Same day, 11 o'clock P.M.
Oh, but I am tired! If
it were not that I had made my diary a duty I should not open it tonight. We had
a lovely walk. Lucy, after a while, was in gay spirits, owing, I think, to some
dear cows who came nosing towards us in a field close to the lighthouse, and frightened
the wits out of us. I believe we forgot everything, except of course, personal
fear, and it seemed to wipe the slate clean and give us a fresh start. We had
a capital 'severe tea' at Robin Hood's Bay in a sweet little old-fashioned inn,
with a bow window right over the seaweed-covered rocks of the strand. I believe
we should have shocked the 'New Woman' with our appetites. Men are more tolerant,
bless them! Then we walked home with some, or rather many, stoppages to rest,
and with our hearts full of a constant dread of wild bulls.
Lucy was really
tired, and we intended to creep off to bed as soon as we could. The young curate
came in, however, and Mrs. Westenra asked him to stay for supper. Lucy and I had
both a fight for it with the dusty miller. I know it was a hard fight on my part,
and I am quite heroic. I think that some day the bishops must get together and
see about breeding up a new class of curates, who don't take supper, no matter
how hard they may be pressed to, and who will know when girls are tired.
is asleep and breathing softly. She has more colour in her cheeks than usual,
and looks, oh so sweet. If Mr. Holmwood fell in love with her seeing her only
in the drawing room, I wonder what he would say if he saw her now. Some of the
'New Women' writers will some day start an idea that men and women should be allowed
to see each other asleep before proposing or accepting. But I suppose the 'New
Woman' won't condescend in future to accept. She will do the proposing herself.
And a nice job she will make of it too! There's some consolation in that. I am
so happy tonight, because dear Lucy seems better. I really believe she has turned
the corner, and that we are over her troubles with dreaming. I should be quite
happy if I only knew if Jonathan . . . God bless and keep him.