"Yes, that will be best," she said, and it was settled that she should come in again and fetch me in an hour, when Robert should leave to go to Vavasour House. He went with her to the lift, and then he came back. No--even in this locked book I am not going to write of that hour--it was too divine. If I had thought just sitting in the park was heaven, I now know there are degrees of heaven, and that Robert is teaching me up towards the seventh. _Monday afternoon._ (Continued.) I forgot to say a note came from Christopher by this morning's post--it made me laugh when I read it, then it went out of my head; but when Lady Merrenden returned for me, and we were more or less sane again--Robert and I--I thought of it; so apparently did he. "Did you by chance hear from Christopher, whether he got your note last night or no?" he said. I went and fetched it from my bedroom when I put on my hat. Robert read it aloud: "TRAVELLER'S CLUB "_Sunday night._ "'_Souvent femme varie--fol qui se fie!_' Hope you found your variation worth while! C. C." "What dam cheek!" he said, in his old way. He hasn't used any "ornaments to conversation" since we have been--oh, I want to say it--engaged! Then his eyes flashed. "Christopher had better be careful of himself! He will have to be answerable to me now." "Do be prudent, Evangeline dear," Lady Merrenden said, gayly, "or you will have Robert breaking the head of every man in the street who even glances at you. He is frantically jealous." "Yes, I know I am," said Robert, rearranging the tie on my blouse with that air of _sans gene_ and possession that pleases me so. I belong to him now, and if my tie isn't as he likes he has a perfect right to retie it, no matter who is there. That is his attitude--not the _least_ ceremony or stuff, everything perfectly simple and natural. It does make things agreeable. When I was, "Miss Travers" and he "Lord Robert," he was always respectful and unfamiliar--except that one night when rage made him pinch my finger. But now that I am _his_ Evangeline and he is _my_ Robert (thus he explained it to me in our paradise hour), I am his queen and his darling, but at the same time his possession and belonging, just the same as his watch or his coat--I adore it--and it does not make me the least "uppish," as one might have thought. "Come, come, children," Lady Merrenden said at last, "we shall all be late."