_Monday morning._
I wonder how I lived before I met Robert. I wonder what use were the days.
Oh, and I wonder, I wonder, if the duke continues to be obdurate about me,
if I shall ever have the strength of mind to part from him so as not to
spoil his future.
Such a short time ago--not yet four weeks--since I was still at Branches,
and wondering what made the clock go round, the great, big clock of life.
Oh, now I know. It is being in love--frightfully in love, as we are. I
must try and keep my head, though, and remember all the remarks of Lady
Ver about things and men. Fighters all of them, and they must never feel
quite sure. It will be dreadfully difficult to tease Robert, because he is
so direct and simple, but I must try, I suppose. Perhaps being so very
pretty as I am, and having all the male creatures looking at me with
interest, will do, and be enough to keep him worried, and I won't have to
be tiresome myself. I hope so, because I really do love him so extremely,
I would like to let myself go, and be as sweet as I want to.
I am doing all the things I thought perfectly silly to hear of before. I
kissed his letter, and slept with it on the pillow beside me, and this
morning woke at six, and turned on the electric light to read it again.
The part where the "darlings" come is quite blurry, I see, in
daylight--that is where I kissed most, I know.
I seem to be numb to everything else. Whether Lady Ver is angry or not
does not bother me. I did play fair. She could not expect me to go on
pretending when Robert had said straight out he loved me. But I am sure
she will be angry, though, and probably rather spiteful about it.
I will write her the simple truth in a day or two, when we see how things
go. She will guess by Robert not going to Sedgwick.