Oh, Peltry,—­and oh, Jack,—­and oh, that road back to Stamford!  I am so stiff that I can’t sit upright, and everybody is cross to me, and everything is uncomfortable.  What horrible things women are!  There isn’t one here, not even old Lady Rumpus, who hasn’t an unmarried daughter left in the world, who isn’t jealous of me, because—­because—.  I must leave you to guess why they all hate me so!  And I’m sure if you had given Jack to any other woman I should hate her, though you may give every horse you have to any man that you please.  I wonder whether I shall have another day’s hunting before it is all over.  I suppose not.  It was almost by a miracle that we managed yesterday—­only fancy—­yesterday!  It seems to be an age ago!

Pray, pray, pray write to me at once,—­to the Connop Greens, so that I may get a nice, soft, pleasant word directly I get among those nasty, hard, unpleasant people.  They have lots of money, and plenty of furniture, and I dare say the best things to eat and drink in the world,—­but nothing else.  There will be no Jack; and if there were, alas, alas, no one to show me the way to ride him.

I start to-morrow, and as far as I understand, shall have to make my way into Hampshire all by myself, with only such security as my maid can give me.  I shall make her go in the same carriage and shall have the gratification of looking at her all the way.  I suppose I ought not to say that I will shut my eyes and try to think that somebody else is there.

Good-bye dear, dear, dear R. I shall be dying for a letter from you.  Yours ever with all my heart.  A.

P.S.  I shall write you such a serious epistle when I get to the Greens.

This was not such a letter as she thought that her aunt would approve; but it was, she fancied, such as the Duchess would believe that she would write to her lover.  And if it were allowed to go on its way it would make Lord Rufford feel that she was neither alarmed nor displeased by the suddenness of his departure.  But it was not expected to do much good.  It might produce some short, joking, half-affectionate reply, but would not draw from him that serious word which was so necessary for the success of her scheme.  Therefore she had told him that she intended to prepare a serious missile.  Should this pleasant little message of love miscarry, the serious missile would still be sent, and the miscarriage would occasion no harm.

But then further plans were necessary.  It might be that Lord Rufford would take no notice of the serious missile,—­which she thought very probable.  Or it might be that he would send back a serious reply, in which he would calmly explain to her that she had unfortunately mistaken his sentiments;—­which she believed would be a stretch of manhood beyond his reach.  But in either case she would be prepared with the course which she would follow.  In the first she would begin by forcing her father to write to him a letter which she herself would dictate.