rried upstairs, as soon as dinner
was over, saying I had letters to write. To-morrow, early, we start for
Sidmouth, in Devonshire, going by way of Weymouth and Dorchester. As I
write, looking from my window, across which I haven't drawn the
curtains, I can see Sir Lionel and Mrs. Senter strolling out of the
hotel, toward the beach. There's a lovely blue dusk, which the sunset
struck into a million glorious sparks, and then let fade again into a
dull glow, like ashes of roses. They look a romantic couple walking
together. I wonder if they are talking about each other, to each other,
or--about _Dick and me_? I feel as if I should have to scream--"Sir
Lionel, don't believe it. It isn't true!" But of course, I can't. I
think I shall go to bed, and then I won't be tempted to look out of the
window.

Always your own loving

Audrie.

Please write at once, and address Poste Restante, Torquay.

XIV

SIR LIONEL PENDRAGON TO COLONEL PATRICK O'HAGAN

_Knoll Park Hotel, Sidmouth, Devon_,
_August 2nd. Evening_

My Dear Pat: I am a fool. By this time you will soon be
receiving my first letter, and saying to yourself, "He is on the way to
being a fool." Well, I am already that fool. I didn't see where I was
drifting, but I see now that it had begun then; and of course you, a
spectator, won't be dense as I was at first. You will know.

I didn't suppose this thing could happen to me again. I thought I was
safe. But at forty, it's worse with me than when I was twenty-one.

I don't need to explain. Yet I will say in self-defence that, fool as I
am, I am not going to let anyone but you know that I'm a fool.
Especially the girl. She would be thunderstruck. Not that girls of
nineteen haven't married men of forty, and perhaps cared for them. But
this girl has been brought up since her babyhood to think of me as her
guardian, and an elderly person beyond the pale where love or even
flirtation is concerned. Imagine a daughter and namesake of Ellaline de
Nesville being in the society of a man, and not trying to flirt with
him! It's almost inconceivable. But Ellaline the second shows not the
slightest inclination to flirt with me. She is gentle, sweet, charming,
even obedient; perhaps I might say daughterly, if I were willing to hurt
my own feelings. Therefore, even without Mr. Dick Burden's oppressive
respect for me, I must suppose that I am regarded as a generation
behind.

By the way, that young beast made me a present of