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Updated: June 25, 2025
I was so excited that I forgot the Lethbridge episode, and was on the point of exclaiming to Sir Lionel "How interesting to come on father's ancestral home!" I wonder what would have happened if I had? I should have had to try and blunder out of the scrape somehow, with Dick's eyes on me, sparkling with mischief, and Mrs. Senter critical.
Some things are too strange not to be true; and I suppose this infatuation of Ellaline's, if it exists, is one of them. And it must exist. There can be no doubt of it, since Mrs. Senter has it from the boy who apparently has it from the girl. What to make of it, however, that she told me only about ten days ago, she didn't like him? Yet I am forgetting.
I believe they would; and the enchantment would take the form of a sea mist. To-morrow we are to leave Cornwall for Bideford. I had got as far as that, when Mrs. Senter knocked at my door, and asked if she might come in for a few minutes; so I had to say yes, and "smile full well in counterfeited glee."
Of course, I'd forgotten my number, as I always do. I wouldn't consider myself a normal girl if I didn't. There were the boots, not taken away yet looking abject, as boots do in such situations but I was pleased to see that they compared favourably in size with the gray alligator-skin and patent leather eccentricities of Mrs. Senter, reposing on an adjacent doormat.
Sir Lionel and I started together, somehow, but the minute we were in the ruins Mrs. Senter called him to ask a question about the tombs that break the soft green carpet of grass in the long aisles. Instantly Dick pounced on me, just as his aunt did in the cave the other day, and I could only have got away from him by showing that I'd rather be with Sir Lionel which, of course, I wouldn't do.
It was nice sitting there in the comfortable dining-room, listening to the climbing stories, while the wind roared and couldn't get at us, and the whole valley was full of marching rain! Now I am writing in my bedroom, close to a gossipy little fire, which is a delightful companion, although August has still a day to run. Mrs. Senter is having her beauty sleep, I suppose; and I should think Mrs.
Senter flirts, flickering her eyelashes, saying smart things as if to amuse him alone, and hang everyone else! but just looking at him, with gorgeous, starry eyes; asking a question now and then, and listening with all her soul. I'm not sure it isn't an equally effective way, especially when done in a diamond tiara by a countess under twenty-five.
This he evidently thought old-fashioned and over-scrupulous, but when I admitted being both, he ceased to protest, only saying that he wished to write to his mother first. I suggested talking with his aunt, also, and he did not object to the idea, so Mrs. Senter and I have already had a short conversation concerning her nephew's love affair.
I shouldn't have stirred if he hadn't spoken. I should have awaited orders; but the others were moving before we stopped, and Mrs. Senter fell down and bumped her knee. That made her hair come partly undone, and, to my horror, a bunch of the dearest little curls, which I always thought lived there, were loosened.
The other two were inclined to be frivolous; and Mrs. Senter noticed the new ring, which I had forgotten to take off my finger. Nothing ever escapes her eyes! I saw them light, and linger, but of course she didn't refer to the ring, and naturally I didn't.
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