letter last
week? But I know how occupied you are, poor angel, and won't scold
you as you deserve. I think of you every moment of the day, and do so
long to be able to help you to bear your heavy burden. How little we
thought when you went home how soon the smiling future would turn into
a frown! We both seem to have left our careless youth far behind, for
I have my own trials too, though nothing to yours, my precious
darling.

"I have heaps to tell you. I decided to have the blue dress, after
all, and the dressmaker has made it sweetly, with dozens of little
tucks. I wore it at an afternoon `At Home' yesterday, and it looked
lovely. Lots of people were there. Wallace took me. He is at home
helping with the practice. Maggie, my darling, I am really writing to
ask you the most awful favour. Would you, could you, come down to
stay with us for a few weeks? I do long for you so. There is no one
on earth but you to whom I can speak my utmost thoughts, and I feel
all bottled up, for there are some things one can't write. I know you
feel this, too, dearest, for there is a change in the tone of your
letters, and I read between the lines that you have lots to tell me.
We could have great sport with Wallace to take us about, and the
people around are very hospitable, and always ask us out when we have
a visitor. Wallace saw your photograph one day, and said you were
`ripping,' and he is quite keen on your coming, though, as a rule, he
doesn't care for girls. Mother will write to Mrs Sackville if you
think there is the slightest chance that you can be spared. Of
course, darling, if you feel it your duty to stay at home I won't
persuade you to come. You remember how we vowed to urge each other to
do our best and noblest, but perhaps if you had a little change you
would go back refreshed and able to help your people better than you
can at present. Anyway, write soon, darling, and put me out of my
suspense. I sha'n't sleep a wink till I hear. Oh, the bliss of
having you all to myself! How we would talk!

"Your own Maggie."

Yes, it would indeed be bliss! I longed for Lorna, but it did not seem
possible to go away and enjoy myself, and leave Vere so helpless and
sad. I decided not to say a word about the invitation, but I couldn't
help thinking about it. Lorna lived in a big town house in the middle
of a street; her father is a busy doctor, an