GRAYSMILL, February 24th.
I showed some parts of your letter to Gabriel, and we laughed very
much. What a bird she is, my Constance! He is ever so much taller
than I. We compared our height with the utmost care, this morning,
for your especial benefit. Do you remember--what should I do to you,
by the way, if you didn't?--that when your head is on my shoulder,
my chin just makes a little roof for your curls, so that you always
used to say, "How nicely we _fit_!" Well, there is just about the
same difference between Gabriel and me, as between me and you. I
call that very nice.
Now, as to the rest of the world. My two old dears are very sweet to
me, and to Gabriel also. Indeed, every one is pleasant to us, and if
it does come to my ears that I am looked upon by Graysmill generally
in the light of a harmless lunatic, why, what of that? I take joy in
the thought that none but myself knows the value of the treasure
that is mine. One good soul said to me yesterday: "We think it very
nice of you, very nice and modest. Such a rich young lady as you
are, you might have had any one you pleased!"
We went on Sunday to pay a formal visit to Uncle George. That was a
terrible ordeal, but we got some fun out of it.
I went to fetch Gabriel, for Uncle George lives just beyond
Miltonhoe. I found him in the study, sitting with his head in his
hands, a picture of misery.
"Emilia," said he, "you dare not be so cruel as to expect this of
me. I cannot go and see your uncle, indeed, I cannot."
"You must," said I; "I am very good to you on the whole; this is the
only call I expect you to pay, but this one must be. Up with you,
and make yourself look respectable."
So off he went, with despair in his eye, and Jane and I waited for
him in the kitchen. At the end of half an hour he reappeared. He had
merely put on a horrible black coat; for the rest, I could see no
improvement.
There he stood, without hat or gloves.
"I am ready," said he.
"You imp!" I cried; "you've been playing about! What have you been
at all this time? Do you suppose I can present such a scarecrow to
my relations?"
"Emilia," answered the poor dear, very solemnly, "I have washed!"
There was nothing for it but to make him fetch the clothes-brush,
and other implements of torture. Jane and I marched him out into the
hall, and there we prepared the victim. We brushed his clothes, and
straightened his necktie. Even Richard Norton was so excited by the
scene that he fetched the blacking-bottle and polished Gabriel's
boots, whilst Jane acted hairdresser and I held him down by both
hands. This in the midst of so much laughter that the tears stood in
our eyes.
When at last we turned him round for inspection, smooth-haired and
stiff with the consciousness of his respectability, I could have
wept at my own handiwork.
"You poor dear!" I cried. "Oh, Jane, doesn't he look horrible!"
But Gabriel went into the parlour to look at himself in the mirror,
and declared that he pleased himself mightily.
The visit itself was comparatively uneventful. They have asked us to
dine next Friday, but I doubt whether we shall go. Gabriel suggests
that we should get married at once and fly from such terrors.
Good-bye now, my sweet one.
Yours more than ever, in spite of all,