I am counting the hours when I will be with you. I tried to get up to see you last night, but it was impossible. Lord Eaton’s son, young Albert, was on the steamer coming over, and they are friends of the governor’s and I simply had to be with them. You see, darling, it means a good deal to me in the future, to be in touch with these people. His brother-in-law, whom I met last night, is head cockalorum in the House of Parliament, and as I have often told you, my ambition is to get into politics. It’s the surest road to fame for a Barrister.
Now I hope my foolish little girl will understand and believe me when I say that I am thinking for you as much as for myself.
I am hungry for a kiss, and I feel I cannot wait till tonight.
Your own,
Reggie.”
For the first time in my life I experienced the pangs of jealousy and yet I was jealous of something tangible. It was lurking in my thought, and all sorts of suspicions and fears came into my hot head.
When Reggie came that evening I did not open the door as usual. I heard him say eagerly, when the children let him in:
“Where’s Marion?”
I was peeping over the banister, and I deliberately went back into the bedroom and counted five hundred before I went down to see him.
He was walking excitedly up and down and as I came in he sprang to meet me, his arms outstretched; but I drew back coldly. Oh, how bitter I felt, and vindictive, too!
“How do you do, Mr. Bertie,” I said.