ibe. I greatly admired the pulpit, which is
supported by five pillars sunk into the backs of squashed lions; but
Mr. Copley, when I asked him the period, said, 'Pure Brummagem!'

There is a nice old cell for refractory monks, that we agreed will be a
lovely place for Mrs. Benedict if we can lose her in it. She arrives as
soon as they can find room for her at the Three Tuns.

Memoranda:--Casual remark for breakfast-table or perhaps for
luncheon--it is a trifle heavy for breakfast: _'Since the sixteenth
century, and despite the work of Inigo Jones and the great Wren_ (not
Jenny Wren: Christopher), _architecture has had, in England especially,
no legitimate development.' This is the only cathedral with a Bishop's
Throne or a Sanctuary Knocker._

* * * * *

_He_

Durham, _July 19_.

O child of fortune, thy name is J. Q. Copley! How did it happen to be
election time? Why did the inns chance to be full? How did Aunt Celia
relax sufficiently to allow me to find her a lodging? Why did she fall
in love with the lodging when found? I do not know. I only know Fate
smiles; that Kitty and I eat our morning bacon and eggs together; that I
carve Kitty's cold beef and pour Kitty's sparkling ale at luncheon; that
I go to matins with Kitty, and dine with Kitty, and walk in the gloaming
with Kitty--and Aunt Celia. And after a day of heaven like this, like
Lorna Doone's lover--ay, and like every other lover, I suppose--I go to
sleep, and the roof above me swarms with angels, having Kitty under it.

She was so beautiful on Sunday. She has been wearing her favourite
browns and primroses through the week, but on Sunday she blossomed into
blue and white, topped by a wonderful hat, whose brim was laden with
hyacinths. She sat on the end of a seat in the nave, and there was a
capped and gowned crowd of university students in the transept. I
watched them and they watched her. She has the fullest, whitest eyelids,
and the loveliest lashes. When she looks down I wish she might never
look up, and when she looks up I am never ready for her to look down. If
it had been a secular occasion, and she had dropped her handkerchief,
seven-eighths of the students would have started to pick it up--but I
should have got there first! Well, all this is but a useless prelude,
for there are facts to be considered--delightful, warm, breathing facts!

We were coming home from evensong, Kitty and I. (I am anticipating, fo