"I shall let four full days go by before I answer," she decided. But ere that time had passed, a third very lengthy epistle had arrived, which concluded with the gentlest of reproaches for her unkind negligence in not replying sooner. Thus, when she did sit down after supper one evening to write her first letter to Geoffrey, many pages covered with his handwriting were spread out before her gaze. The correspondence thus commenced rapidly developed into the most engrossing, enthralling, and delightful feature in the existence of these two. They exchanged ideas, sympathies, experiences, hopes and fears; and their uttermost frankness on any and every subject but served to show with increased emphasis how harmonious were their innermost natures, how naturally their minds trod the same paths. Both wrote well and easily, although for some time Evarne, with true feminine discretion, retained a firm grip upon the too frank display of the strength of her affection for Geoffrey. But the days in which she forbade her written words to adequately express what she felt were very speedily left behind. As to the young man himself, all his cautious scruples had exhausted themselves in leading him out of England. From the first he was troubled by few restrictions, and within a month he was avowedly writing love letters. He had never made any abrupt and startling declaration of his feelings, let alone of his intentions. It was just a case of swift yet easy drifting. He appeared to deem it a matter of course that Evarne knew and recognised the fact that he loved her, and that all else was to be taken for granted. She was both amused and attracted by this simple and unobtrusive change in their correspondence from comparative formality to tender truth. She expressed no surprise, but took it all quietly and without comment. Indeed, it seemed really but a natural and ordinary thing that she and Geoffrey should acknowledge their love. It was a continuance of a pretence of mere friendship between them that would have seemed extraordinary. To abandon any disguise was not only easy and comforting--it was instinctive. Thus all those fresh vague thoughts, those dominating and ardent emotions that love brings into being, and which suppression causes to torture the brain wherein they are conceived, were granted free scope and outlet in the heart-to-heart letters that they wrote so gladly one to another. And their love grew and strengthened steadily from this use and outgiving. It had been some time before Evarne had got to the point of responding with equal frankness to Geoff's ardent epistles, but she did arrive at last.