"I wonder," she said, "if Fanny has written to me."
She asked the way to the post-office. There was time if she walked
quickly.
At the Poste Restante there was a letter for her--more than a letter, a
parcel, apparently a book.
She received it and hurried back to the station.
In the train she amused herself with looking through the leaves of her
new books. Fanny Mere's letter she would read after dinner.
At dinner they actually talked. Lord Harry was excited with the
prospect of going back to the world. He had enjoyed his hermitage, he
said, quite long enough. Give him the society of his fellow-creatures.
"Put me among cannibals," he said, "and I should make friends with
them. But to live alone--it is the devil! To-morrow we begin our new
flight."
After dinner he lit his cigar, and went on chattering about the future.
Iris remembered the packet she had got at the post-office, and opened
it. It contained a small manuscript book filled with writing and a
brief letter. She read the letter, laid it down, and opened the book.