August 15th.

It is three weeks since the moonlight picnic, and so many things have happened since then, such awful, terrible things, that I don’t know how to begin to tell them. I didn’t think when I began this diary how thrilling it was going to be before I’d got half way through; but you never know what is going to happen in this world. It’s awful how suddenly things come. I don’t think I can ever again feel confident and easy-going, as I used to do. You read in books sometimes, “She was no longer a girl, she was a woman,” and it is like that with me. Everything seems different and more solemn, and I don’t think I can ever frivol again in quite the same whole-hearted way.

To begin at the beginning: we had a very lively time for the next week, and I grew quite fond of Vere’s friends, even Lady Mary, whom I hated at first, and they all made a fuss of me, and made me sing every night till I felt quite proud. I invited Rachel over and over again, but she would never accept our invitations; but Will came often, either to dinner or lunch, or for an odd call, and Vere neglected everyone for him, and was so fascinating that I was in terror all the time. He admired her, of course; he would have been blind if he hadn’t, but I could not decide if he liked her or not. Sometimes I saw him smiling to himself in the queer, half-scornful way he had done when they first met, and then I was sure he did not; but at other times he would watch her about the room, following every movement as if he couldn’t help himself, and that’s a bad sign. Lorna has a sister who is married, and she knew the man was going to propose, because he looked like that. Somehow I never had a chance of a quiet talk, when I could have given him a hint, and it was thinking about that and wondering how I could see him alone which made me suddenly remember that it was a whole week and more since I had been a walk with father. I went hot all over at the thought. It was ghastly to remember how I had planned and promised to be his companion, and to care for him first of all, and then to realise how I had forsaken him at the very first temptation! He was so sweet about it, too, never complaining or seeming a bit vexed. Parents are really angels. It must be awful to have a child, and take such trouble with it all its life, and then to be neglected for strangers. I hadn’t the heart to write in my diary that night. I was too ashamed. I was worse than Vere, for I had posed as being so good and dutiful. I won’t make any more vows, but I confess here with that I am a selfish pig, and I am ashamed of myself.

The next morning I could hardly wait until breakfast was over, I was so anxious to be off. I got my cap and ran down to the stable and slipped my arm in father’s as he stood talking to Vixen. He gave a little start of surprise—it hurt me, that start!—looked down at me and said, smiling—

“Well, dear, what is it?”

“Nothing. I’m coming with you!” I said, and he squeezed my hand against his side.

“Thank you, dear, but I’m going a long round. I won’t be back until lunch. Better not leave your friends for so long.”

“Vere is with them, father. I want to come.”

“What’s the matter? Not had a quarrel, have you? Has Vere been—”

“No, no, she hasn’t! Nothing is the matter, except that I want you, and nobody else. Oh, father, don’t be so horribly kind! Scold me—call me a selfish wretch! I know I have neglected you, dear. There was always something to do, and I—forgot, but really and truly I remembered all the time. It isn’t nonsense, father, it’s true. Can you understand?”

“I’ve been nineteen myself, Babs; I understand. Don’t worry, darling. I missed you, but I was glad that you were happy, and I knew your heart was in the right place. We won’t say anything more about it, but have a jolly walk and enjoy ourselves.”

Oh, it is good to have someone who understands! If he had scolded or been reproachful I should have felt inclined to make excuses, but when he was so sweet and good I just loved him with all my heart, and prayed to be a better daughter to him all my life.

We had lovely walks after that, and on the third morning we met Will Dudley, and once again he and I sat on a log waiting for father while he interviewed a tenant. My heart quite thumped with agitation as I thought that now was the time to lead the conversation skilfully round to Vere, and insinuate delicately that she had a mania for making people fall in love with her, and that it didn’t always mean as much as it seemed when she was sweet and gushing. It wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do, but you can’t be a guardian angel without a little trouble.

“So you have torn yourself away from your friends this morning,” he said at last. “How is it that you were allowed to escape? What is the special campaign for killing time to-day, if one may ask?”

“You may ask, but it’s rude to be sarcastic. You are often lazy yourself, though in a different fashion. You love to lie on your back on the grass and do nothing but browse and stare up at the sky. You have told me so many times.”

“Ah, but what of my thoughts? Under a semblance of ease I am in reality working out the most abstruse problems. I did not mean to be sarcastic; I inquired in all seriousness how your valuable company could be spared.”

“For the best of all reasons—because nobody wanted it! Captain Grantly wants Lady Mary, Lady Mary wants Captain Grantly. Miss Talbot wants someone she can’t get, but it doesn’t happen to be me; the rest all want Vere, and have no thought for anyone else. Men always do want to be with Vere. Wherever she goes they fall in love with her and follow her about. She is so lovely, and she&mdash............