The old doctor's stately pride must have been something to see. It was "Sir Martin" here and "Sir Martin" there, until I could have cried to hear him. I felt just as foolish myself, too, for though I cannot remember that my pulse gave one extra beat when they made me "your ladyship," now that Martin has become. . . . But that's what we women are, you see!
At length Martin's big voice came up clear above the rest, and then the talk was about the visit to Windsor. Christian Ann wanted to know if he wasn't "freckened" to be there, "not being used of Kings," whereupon he cried:
"What! Frightened of another man—and a stunning good one, too!"
And then came a story of how the King had asked if he hadn't been in fear of icebergs, and how he had answered No, you could strike more of them in a day in London (meaning icy-hearted people) than in a life-time in the Antarctic.
I suppose I must have laughed at that, for the next I heard was:
"Hush! Isn't that Mary!"
"Aw, yes, the poor veg veen," said a sad voice. It was Christian Ann's. At the bottom of her heart I shall always be the child who "sang carvals to her door."
What a wonderful day! I shall not sleep a wink to-night, though. To-morrow I must tell him.
JULY 13. I intended to tell Martin this morning, but I really couldn't.