The letter was a great contrast to Mrs.
Gordon's. It was a girl's love letter, a gushing, impulsive thing,
full of vows and endearments; but the only part of it with which
we are concerned ran in this way:--
And so the heiress has arrived at last--and you saved her life!
When you swam with her, didn't you feel that you had the weight
of a hundred thousand sovereigns on your back? For oh, Gavan dear,
she is nice, but she is very stolid! And so you saved her--what luck
for you! But you always have luck, don't you? And don't you think
that my love is the best bit of luck you have ever had! Everyone
says you are making a fortune--hurry up and make it, for I am so
anxious to get away out of this place, and we can have our trip
round the world together.
And now I am waiting for next Saturday. Fancy having you in the
house all day long and in the evening! We must slip away somewhere
for just a little while, so that we can have each other all to
ourselves. Hugh is still worrying about some sheep that he thinks
are stolen. He is always worrying about something or other, and
now that she has come I suppose he will be worse than ever. Now
goodnight, dearest...
Blake read the letter, and threw it down carelessly on the table;
then, leaning back in his chair, cut up a pipeful of tobacco.
Pages:
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102