December 21
Red Hair, or The Vicissitudes of Evangeline
Author:Elinor Glyn


Oh, it is three weeks since I wrote, but I have been too busy and too happy for journals. I have been here ever since, getting my trousseau, and Véronique is becoming used to the fact that I can have no coronet on my lingerie.

It is the loveliest thing in the world being engaged to Robert.

He has ways! Well, even if I really were as bad as I suppose I look, I could never want any one else. He worships me, and lets me order him about, and then he orders me about, and that makes me have the loveliest thrills. And if any one even looks at me in the street--which of course they always do--he flashes blue fire at them, and I feel--oh, I feel, all the time!

Lady Merrenden continues her sweet kindness to us, and her tact is beyond words, and now I often do what I used to wish to--that is, touch Robert's eyelashes with the tips of my fingers.

It is perfectly lovely.

Oh, what in the world is the good of anything else in life but being frantically in love as we are!

It all seems, to look back upon, as if it were like having porridge for breakfast, and nothing else every day, before I met Robert.

Perhaps it is because he is going to be very grand in the future, but every one has discovered I am a beauty, and intelligent. It is much nicer to be thought that than just to be a red-haired adventuress.

Lady Katherine, even, has sent me a cairngorm brooch and a cordial letter. (I should now adorn her circle!) But oh, what do they all matter--what does anything matter but Robert! All day long I know I am learning the meaning of "to dance and to sing and to laugh and to live."

The duke and I are great friends. He has ferreted out about mamma's mother, and it appears she was a Venetian music-mistress of the name of Tonquini, or something like that, who taught Lord de Brandreth's sisters--so perhaps Lady Ver was right after all, and far, far back in some other life I was the friend of a Doge.

Poor, dear Lady Ver! She has taken it very well after the first spiteful letter, and now I don't think there is even a tear at the corner of her eye.

Lady Merrenden says it is just the time of the year when she usually gets a new one, so perhaps she has now, and so that is all right.

The diamond serpent she has given me has emerald eyes--and such a pointed tongue.

"It is like you, snake-girl," she said; "so wear it at your wedding."

The three angels are to be my only bridesmaids.

Robert loads me with gifts, and the duke is going to let me wear all the Torquilstone jewels when I am married, besides the emeralds he has given me himself. I really love him.

Christopher sent me this characteristic note with the earrings which are his gift, great big emeralds set with diamonds: "So sorry I shall not see you on the happy day, but Paris, I am fortunate enough to discover, still has joys for me.

"C. C.

"Wear them; they will match your eyes."

And to-morrow is my wedding-day, and I am going away on a honeymoon with Robert--away into the seventh heaven. And oh, and oh, I am certain, sure, neither of us will yawn!