GLOUCESTER, _June_ 10
The Bell.
Nothing accomplished yet. Her aunt is a Van Tyck, and a stiff one, too.
I am a Copley, and that delays matters. Much depends upon the manner of
approach. A false move would be fatal. We have six more towns (as per
itinerary), and if their thirst for cathedrals isn't slaked when these
are finished we have the entire continent to do. If I could only succeed
in making an impression on the retina of aunt Celia's eye! Though I have
been under her feet for ten days, she never yet has observed me. This
absent-mindedness of hers serves me ill now, but it may prove a blessing
later on.