"When we were alone he sat for five minutes with his arm round my waist, and then he kissed me.

He didn't say much, but then I knew perfectly well that he would be on his guard not to commit himself by words.

But I've got him to promise that he'll write to me, and of course I'll answer in such a way that he must write again.

I know he'll want to see me, and I think I can go very near doing it.

But he's an old stager and knows what he's about: and of course there'll be ever so many people to tell him I'm not the sort of girl he ought to marry.