Philippa by Mary Louisa Molesworth — Read

So, after all, the hobgoblin of a visit to Merle melted into thin air, as often happens with the things we dread the most. Not that, in this case, there was do element of disappointment to Philippa mingled with the very relief she was so grateful for. She had a distinct curiosity about Evelyn's hero, and a decided wish to see him again, and when, some two months or so later, a letter with the date of "Merle-in-the-Wold," reached her in her wanderings with her father, she felt it undoubtedly regrettable that she could not, without misgiving, look forward to joining the Headforts in their next visit there, as her sister alluded to.

"You cannot think what a _perfect_ place this is," wrote Evelyn. "Duke was not very eager to come, so soon after arriving and before he had settled down at all, he said. He _is_ such an old bachelor; he has fallen back into all his fussy methodical ways with being two years away from scatter-brained me. But now he is quite as much in love with it all as I am, and is talking of looking out for a little house somewhere hereabouts, if he decides on leaving his regiment. And he likes Mr Gresham very much; at least he says, as everybody must, what a charming host he is, though I don't know that he appreciates him _quite_ as much as I do. But he likes talking to him about Wyverston and the Headforts. And oh, by-the-by, the old squire has written _so_ cordially to Duke, as soon as he heard of his arrival. We are to go up there for a week whenever the worst of the winter is over, etc, etc."