T

o continue with Mr. Acton's letter:

Most days did not contain such strange events, however, and a good deal of the time in those days was spent enjoying the sight of our lovely green-house taking shape from a pile of lumber.

The evening that the roof was finally put in place was a memorable one. I told you that Mrs. Corning was rather overly-fond of me, and while I did not encourage this, I did not know what I could do to discourage her feelings without causing offense. And the sight of our green-house with its whole structure in place (although the building was far from complete) provoked high spirits in me. When the carpenters and assistants left, Betsy and I ran around the little house, and walked in to the bare interior and then out again many times - for no purpose other than we enjoyed it immensely. I said: "Betsy, we should have a little party in here before we bring in all the gardening accoutrements. As soon as the floor is finished, we'll have a dance."

"That's a lovely idea!" she cried. "Yes a green-house dance. I shall hire the band that sometimes performs in the town hall. Perhaps I will commission a piece from them: 'The Green-house Waltz.'"

And she giggled like a little girl, rather fetchingly, I might say. As we gloried in our architectural triumph we fed off each other's high spirits until we were positively giddy.

"May I have this dance, Lady Corning?" I said with a bow. She accepted the invitation by leaping to my side and we waltzed around inside the little house like we had been waltzing together all our lives. It was a silly thing, really, but thinking back on it now, and how happy we were... makes me sad. I have had very mixed feelings about Betsy, but just now, I do feel a twinge of regret.

We finally stopped dancing, out of breath. We stood together panting for a moment. Betsy looked into my eyes, and to my alarm, continued to do so for a long moment. "Oh darling Oliver." she said, voice sodden with deep emotion.

(To be continued...)