or letter from you
meanwhile suggests some miraculous, agreeable, honourable alternative);
but sufficient for the day is the evil thereof--and the Dick thereof.

This day and several days to come are free from both; for my albatross
can't arrange the details of its partnership, sell out some investments
in order to pay the money down, and join us again before Chester. There
I shall certainly hear from you; and I have such infinite faith in your
dove-like serpentineness, that I let myself cling to the ragged edge of
hope. Meanwhile, I shall enjoy myself as much as I possibly can, so
that, at worst, I shall have more good days to remember when bad days
come. For the days will be very bad indeed if I have to bear Sir
Lionel's silent scorn, and still remain with him, awaiting release from
Ellaline.

I felt like a different human being after Dick had gone, and would have
written you at once, but he had delayed me so long that I had to finish
dressing at top speed, because we were to make an earlier start than
usual. There was Chepstow Castle to see (quite near, and a shame to have
missed it), as well as a hundred-and-fifty-mile run to Tenby.

Chepstow was splendidly picturesque and striking; but the country
through which we had to pass on the way to Tenby would not have been
particularly interesting if it weren't for the legends and history with
which it is as full as it is of ruined castles. It is largely coal
country now, and after the lovely, winding Wye, playing hide-and-seek
with its guardian hills, we might have found the road unattractive as we
ran through Newport, Cardiff, Neath, Swansea, and Carmarthen. But it
made all the difference in the world to know that Carmarthen was
Merlin's birthplace; that stories of Arthur's exploits and knightly
deeds leave golden landmarks everywhere; and that it seems quite an
ordinary, reasonable thing to the people to name railway engines after
Sir Lancelot. Isn't it charming of them? Yet what would Elaine, the Lily
Maid of Astolat, say to such a liberty, I wonder?

We arrived in Tenby too late for anything save an impression, last
evening; but it was one of those enchanting, mysterious impressions
which one can only have after dusk, when each old ivied wall is purple
with romance, and each lamp in a high window is a lovelight.

My first thought as we came in and found Tenby on fire with sunset, was
that the place looked like a foreign town set down in England; and so of
course