expectedly,
and ran over to Sutton just on the chance of seeing you. And I have
no objection to tell you all I said to your friend there. I am not
in the habit of saying things behind people's backs that I don't
wish them to hear. All I did was to ask out plainly whether Mrs. M.
was trying to persuade you to have nothing to do with me. She said
she wasn't, and that she didn't wish to interfere one way or
another. I told her that I could ask no more than that. She seemed
to me a sensible sort of woman, and I don't suppose you'll get much
harm from her, though I daresay she thinks more about dress and
amusements, and so on, than is good for her or anyone else. You say
at the end of your letter that I'm to let you know when I think of
coming again, and if you mean by that that you would be glad to see
me, I can only say, thank you. I don't mean to give you up yet, and
I don't believe you want me to say what you will. I don't spy after
you; you're mistaken in that. But I'm pretty much always thinking
about you, and I wish you were nearer to me. I may have to go to
Bristol in a week or two, and perhaps I shall be there for a month
or more, so I must see you before then. Will you tell me what day
would suit you, after seven? If you don't want me to come to the
house, then meet me where you like. And there's only one more thing
I have to say--you must deal honestly with me. I can wait, but I
won't be deceived.'

Louise pondered for a long time, turning now to this part of the
letter, now to that. And the lines of her face, though they made no
approach to smiling, indicated agreeable thoughts. Tears had left
just sufficient trace to give her meditations a semblance of
unwonted seriousness.

About midday she went up to her room and wrote letters. The first
was to Miss Cissy Higgins:--'Dear Ciss,--I dare say you would like
to know that Mr. B. has proposed to me. If you have any objection,
please let me know it by return.--Affectionately yours, L. E.
DERRICK.' This she addressed to Margate, and stamped with a little
thump of the fist. Her next sheet of paper was devoted to Mr.
Bowling, and the letter, though brief, cost her some thought. 'Dear
Mr. Bowling,--Your last is so very nice and kind that I feel I ought
to answer it without delay, but I cannot answer in the way you wish.
I must have a long, long time to think over such a very important
question. I don't blame you in the least for your behaviour to
someone we know of; a