"I loved your note," I began; "and I think Lady Merrenden is quite right. I will be here at twelve, and very pleased to see you." I wanted to say I loved him, and thought twelve o'clock a long way off, but of course one could not write such things as that, so I ended with just, "Love from "EVANGELINE." Then I read it over, and it did sound "missish" and silly. However, with the man waiting there in the passage, and Veronique fussing in and out of my bedroom, besides the waiters bringing up my dinner, I could not go tearing up sheets and writing others, it looked so flurried, so it was put into an envelope. Then, in one of the seconds I was alone, I nipped off a violet from a bunch on the table and pushed it in, too. I wonder if he will think it sentimental of me! When I had written the name, I had not an idea where to address it. His was written from Carlton House Terrace, but he was evidently not there now, as his servant had brought it. I felt so nervous and excited, it was too ridiculous--I am very calm as a rule. I called the man, and asked him where was his lordship now? I did not like to say I was ignorant of where he lived. "His Lordship is at Vavasour House, madam," he said, respectfully, but with the faintest shade of surprise that I should not know. "His lordship dines at home this evening with his grace." I scribbled a note to Lady Merrenden. I would be delighted to see her in the morning at whatever time suited her. I would not go out at all, and I thanked her. It was much easier to write sweet things to her than to Robert. When I was alone I could not eat. Veronique came in to try and persuade me. I looked so very pale, she said, she feared I had taken cold. She was in one of her "old-mother" moods, when she drops the third person sometimes, and calls me "_mon enfant_." "Oh, Veronique, I have not got a cold; I am only wildly happy," I said. "Mademoiselle is doubtless fiancee to Mr. Carruthers. _Oh, mon enfant adoree_," she cried, "_que je suis contente!_" "Gracious, no!" I exclaimed. This brought me back to Christopher with a start. What would he say when he heard? "No, Veronique, to some one much nicer--Lord Robert Vavasour." Veronique was frightfully interested. Mr. Carruthers she would have preferred, to me, she admitted, as being more solid, more "_range_," "_plus a la fin de ses betises_," but, no doubt, "milor" was charming too, and for certain one day mademoiselle would be duchess. In the meanwhile what kind of coronet would mademoiselle have on her trousseau? I was obliged to explain that I should not have any, or any trousseau, for an indefinite time, as nothing was settled yet. This damped her a little. "_Un frere de duc, et pas de couronne!_" After seven years in England she was yet unable to understand these strange habitudes, she said.