Will you meet me by the river near Fisher’s Lock to-morrow afternoon at three o’clock? Will you wear a red carnation and I will wear a red rose as gages of our love? I want to tell you how much I love you, though I am sure you know. Let us be married next Monday afternoon. Do not speak to me of this letter but just come wearing a red carnation and I will come wearing a red rose as gages of our love. I hope you will love my little brother William too. He is very fond of caramels.
Yours with love
Ethel Brown (soon I hope to be March).”
The reference to William had been the subject of much discussion, but William had overborne Joan’s objections.
“I reely only want it put because it makes it seem more nat’ral. It’s only nat’ral she should want him to be kind to her brother. I mean, not knowin’ Ethel as well as I do, he’ll think it nat’ral.”
The stage managing of the actual encounter was the most difficult part of all. Ethel’s reception of her swain’s supposed compliments had not been such as to make William feel that a request to meet him at Fisher’s Lock would be favourably received. He was feeling just a little doubtful about the working of Joan’s love charm in the case of Ethel but with his usual optimism he was hoping for the best.
“Ethel,” he said at lunch. “Gladys Barker wants to see you this afternoon. I met her this morning.”
“Did she say any time?” said Ethel.
“Soon after three,” said William.
“Why on earth didn’t you tell me sooner?” said Ethel.
The road to Gladys Barker’s house lay by the river past Fisher’s Lock.