***

Despite the rain, the mistress of Wington Hall was full of life: dear Charlotte made her glow with joy. How long had it been since the friends had spent time together! Yesterday's meeting, which had lasted little more than an hour, did not count, for today they could spend a long day together, just the two of them, without Anthony, without Jeremy.

Vivian was again wearing a long-sleeved dress, and her neck was still adorned with a silk scarf.

– What an interesting style you have chosen for yourself! – Miss Salton admired. – I didn't know that such beautiful light scarves were in fashion in London! I think it is time I had one.

– I don't know whether it is fashionable to wear such a scarf, but I like it," said Vivian, with a smile on her face and bitterness in her heart. – But tell me, my dear, have your parents still not sent you a single letter?

– Oh, yes! How good of you to remind me of that! – Charlotte thought of it. – Just this morning I received a long-awaited letter from Denmark! The parents were so busy trying to keep their holdings in Norway that they had forgotten all about their daughter! – She laughed softly. – But I'm not offended with them, not in the least!

– And what do they write? – Vivian asked. – 'I hope they will soon return to London?

– Exactly! I think they are on their way! – Charlotte glowed. – And they even managed not to lose their Norwegian possessions! They have to pay double tax to Sweden… But it's better than nothing.

– I'm glad to hear that. It must be terrible for them, being so far away from their only daughter… More tea? – smiled the hostess of the house.

The girls were sitting in the huge, cosy drawing room, in front of the late Mr. Wington's favourite fireplace, drinking tea and sweets.

– Yes, I suppose so. Your father must miss you very much too," Charlotte said softly. – But when shall I get to meet him? He must be a very honourable man.

– When is he coming? – Vivian raised an eyebrow and handed her friend a cup full of fresh tea. – Alas, he doesn't know that himself. In every letter he writes only about his print shop. That print shop is his life, you know. It was that damned print shop that ruined us. But now that I'm a rich lady, the Cowell family business will be revived. Fortunately, Jeremy lets me send quite a lot of money to Casterbridge.

– That's truly kind of him… – Miss Salton tasted her tea and then, looked round and said quietly: – Please tell me your husband didn't scold you yesterday. I can't bear the thought of it.

– Don't worry, my dear, he didn't," Vivian replied calmly, thinking she had been wise to hide her swollen palms under her lace gloves.

And she was telling the truth: Jeremy hadn't raised his voice at her. He raised his whip at her. But Charlotte will never know that, of course.

– He's so strange, your husband," Charlotte grumbled. – Honestly, I'm afraid of him! He's got you locked up in a golden cage, the very best kind of pretender. I can't even find the right words to express my displeasure!

– You are right about that, my dear Charlotte," said Vivian quietly. She held her cup of tea in the palms of her hands, as if trying to warm them. – But let's not talk about him. He is not worthy of us spending even a minute of our time together on him. My husband is out hunting now, and I hope he will not return until late at night. – 'And so tired that he will leave me alone,' mentally added the girl.

– That's even better! – Charlotte said confidently. – They say the Duke of Nightingale and Miss Beckley's engagement ball is in the very midst of preparations, and some say that London has never seen such a splendid ball! That the Prince Regent himself will be there! – she chattered, forgetting Mr. Wington's unfortunate presence. – But poor Miss Beckley! You will outshine her with your beauty on such an important evening!

– I'm not sure I'll be able to go to the ball," Vivian confessed frankly. – Do you remember when I said I wouldn't be disappointed to see the Duke lead his bride to dance? I lied.

– Oh, no, poor thing… You still love him! – Charlotte gasped.

– Do I? – her friend asked thoughtfully. – I don't know if it's love… I don't know if I can love a man after all the horrors of marriage… But the thought that if he were my husband, my life would be full of colour… And there wouldn't be… How can I define it softer… There wouldn't be this hatred… At this thought I feel hurt and sad.. – But then Vivian smiled broadly, set her cup aside and threw two small logs into the fireplace. – The damp is getting to my bones. This house is so big that I can't keep warm, even in my warm dresses. Even my favourite shawl doesn't keep me warm. Jeremy reproaches me for not carrying our first-born child. He wants so much to be a father… I think I would like motherhood… Just think: a little ball of happiness, yours, dear, warm… But I'm afraid. I'm afraid that the baby will tie me to Jeremy so tightly that I'll never be able to leave him, even if I wanted to.

– Give up those thoughts, my dear," Charlotte said affectionately. – This child will bring you happiness.

– Either happiness or sorrow," Vivian replied sadly. – 'But I love children. I love them very much. And Jeremy is so anxious for an heir!

– My dear, God will give you a child when He sees fit. Then it's not time yet. – Charlotte finished her tea quickly and announced triumphantly: – "Now take me to the piano! I've learnt a new English ballad!

The girls spent the whole afternoon together. After a rather late dinner Charlotte went home, as she was tired and did not want to meet the master of the house, who, fortunately, had not yet arrived from hunting. It was hard to part, but Vivian promised to come to Lillehus tomorrow after lunch.