She hugged herself with a little shiver of delight when she was left alone again to think her own thoughts. What a surprise it would be to Lady Dudgeon--and, indeed, to everybody! Of course, she would be told that Mr. Pomeroy had only made love to her because she was rich; but in her own heart she knew so much better than that!
All at once it struck her that there were one or two notes she ought to write this morning; so she went to her davenport, and took pen and paper. But, somehow, her thoughts would go wool-gathering, and the notes refused to get themselves written. Then she began to scribble on the sheet before her. She wrote her own name several times over, and then, without knowing it, she found that she had written "John Pomeroy." Really, it looked very nice. Then the question put itself to her--"How should I have to address him in case he were to ask me to write to him?" Then she wrote, "Dear Mr. Pomeroy;" but that would be too formal as between engaged people. Then she tried, "My dear John," and "My darling John"--decided improvements both. Then, with the tip of the pen between her lips, and her head a little on one side, she studied the general effect of what she had written. Not satisfied with that, and being quite sure that she was all alone, she tried the effect of speaking the magic words aloud--though, indeed, it was little more than a timid whisper. Every syllable spoken thus was full of hidden music. Then she took up the pen again, and, hardly conscious of what she was doing, she wrote, "My own dear husband." But this was too much. With a little cry, and a sudden blush, she crumpled up the paper, ran across the room, and dropped it into the fire. Next moment she thought she heard the sound of voices. She went to the door, opened it softly, and listened.
It was as she had thought, Sir Thomas and Mr. Pomeroy were talking together on the floor below. She could not make out what they were talking about--she did not want to do that--all that she wanted was just to hear the sound of Pomeroy's voice. How strangely it thrilled her this morning to hear that voice again, which she could already have singled out from ten thousand others, and to hear which was, for her, to hear a sweeter music than could have been distilled from all the other sounds in the universe!
The last time she had heard that voice was when it spoke to her. What were the words? "If I could only tell you how much I love you!" It was to her those words were spoken--to her, Eleanor Lloyd! But surely it was not yesterday, but long, long years ago that she had heard them! She felt already as if she had loved him all her life.
And then his lips had pressed hers, once--twice--thrice! That, indeed, was something fresh--the revelation of a new life! And then his arms had twined round her--strong, comforting--and had pressed her to his bosom as if she were a little child. And in that one timid glance which she had shot up into his eyes, had she not seen there depths of tenderness and devotion that were to be hers--hers alone--through all the days of her life yet to come? What a happy, happy girl she was this morning!
She was quite startled to hear the clock strike eleven. How quickly the morning had flown! Lady Dudgeon came up to see how she was, but with her came Eleanor's particular friend, Miss Lorrimore, who announced, in the impetuous way usual with her, that she had come to fetch Eleanor away for a couple of days. Eleanor was by no means loth to go. It was as if a door of escape had suddenly opened for her. In half an hour she was ready, Lady Dudgeon's mild opposition being overruled by the two girls without compunction.
Miss Lorrimore's ponies had been waiting all this time. As Eleanor was being driven through the avenue, her quick eyes saw Sir Thomas and Mr. Pomeroy walking together in one of the side paths a little distance away.
"I should like to stop and speak to Sir Thomas," said Miss Lorrimore.
"No, no; don't stop!" said Eleanor; "but drive on faster, if you love me."
The gentlemen raised their hats, Eleanor fluttered her handkerchief for a moment, and that was the last that she and Gerald saw of each other for some time to come.