CHAPTER VIII.
A LITTLE BELTED EARL.
Feb. 4.
Five wasted days; and nothing more to tell, though some women mightn't
think so; nothing but--another triumph!
I've been to the Charity Ball. I've danced with a Lord--such a little
fellow to be a belted Earl! I have scored over brilliant women of Society.
It isn't the simple country girl of a few weeks ago whom Ned loves, but a
wonderful woman--a Personage; and I am glad, glad, glad! Though no woman
could be good enough for him. I'm not; I am only beautiful enough. And oh,
so feverishly happy, except that waiting is hard, so hard. I'm so restless
that I scarcely know myself.
If I might tell him that I love him--as other Queens do! I am afraid of
his glance when he is here, because he knows. But when he's not here, I
imagine that he does not know, that he will never come again unless he
learns the truth, and I say it over and over: "I love him! I love him!"
and am glad and panic-stricken as if he had heard.
I have never had any other secret, but the Bacillus, I would sooner die
than tell that, to Ned. My love I would cry aloud, but I cannot until he
speaks, and he cannot speak until--has Milly no pride?
I thought--I thought that the very day after the dance--why, I could have
rubbed my eyes, when I went down to a late breakfast, to find Mrs.
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