and Kathleen set to work and scrubbed the dining-room and kitchen floors, while Nellie began to cook the early breakfast.
Delight was drowsy, and as she described soapy arcs with the scrubbing brush, her mind revolved, without arriving at any answer about one question. Should she or should she not meet Bastien that night? If Mrs. Jessop were discharged, how homely it would be to go back to The Duke with Mrs. Bye, and Queenie, and Charley, and Annie, and old Davy, like dear friends around her! She knew they were friendly towards her, for Pearl had told her so. Here none of the women were friendly. There was only Kirke, who would be in a fine rage if she left Beemer's. She didn't care. Let him rage. Old "Fine Nicht."
When she went to her room to put on her black dress for dinner she found an envelope lying on the floor inside. It had been pushed under the door. It was addressed to—
Miss D. Mainprize,
British American Hotel,
Brancepeth.
She could scarcely believe her eyes. Who would be writing to her? It was not Jimmy's neat, firm script but a large scrawl, half printing. She turned it over and over in her large gentle hand, still moist and red from scrubbing, before she opened it with a hairpin. The sheet inside was heavy, with a narrow gilt band. She read:
My dear Miss Mainprize—
Having had dinner at The British American in Fair time and seeing you then and also later on the grounds, i beg to tell you i am desperately in love, i am a wealthy