Chapter 1 - Page 2

Percival to think that we ought to have changed the
date of a matter so important to ourselves, simply in order that he
should be present. I am sure that on second thoughts your mother and
yourself will see the thing in this light. I must say, however, that
in one point I think you both show great judgment. It would
certainly be invidious to be married IMMEDIATELY before his arrival.
I really think that he would have some cause for complaint if we did
that. To prevent any chance of hurting his feelings, I think that it
would be far best, if your mother and you agree with me, that we
should be married upon July 7th. I see that it is a Thursday, and in
every way suitable. When I read your last letter . . . (The
remainder is unimportant.)

St. Albans, June 1st.

Dearest Frank,--I am sure that you are right in thinking that it
would be as well not to have the ceremony too near the date of Uncle
Percival's arrival in England. We should be so sorry to hurt his
feelings in any way. Mother has been down to Madame Mortimer's about
the dresses, and she thinks that everything could be hurried up so as
to be ready by July 7th. She is so obliging, and her skirts DO hang
so beautifully. O Frank, it is only a few weeks' time, and then . .
.

Woking, June 3rd.

My Own Darling Maude,--How good you are--and your mother also--in
falling in with my suggestions! Please, please don't bother your
dear self about dresses. You only want the one travelling-dress to
be married in, and the rest we can pick up as we go. I am sure that
white dress with the black stripe--the one you were playing tennis
with at the Arlingtons'--would do splendidly. You looked simply
splendid that day. I am inclined to think that it is my favourite of
all your dresses, with the exception of the dark one with the light-
green front. That shows off your figure so splendidly. I am very
fond also of the grey Quaker-like alpaca dress. What a little dove
you do look in it! I think those dresses, and of course your satin
evening-dress, are my favourites. On second thoughts, they are the
only dresses I have ever seen you in. But I like the grey best,
because you wore it the first time I ever--you remember! You must
NEVER get rid of those dresses. They are too full of associations.
I want to see you in them for years, and years, and years.

What I wanted to say was that you have so many charming dresses, that
we may consider ourselves independent of Madame Mortimer. If her
things should be late, they will come in very usefully afterwards. I
don't want to be selfish or inconsiderate, my own dearest girlie, but
it would be rather too much if we allowed my tailor or your
dressmaker to be obstacles to our union. I just want you--your