Sunday: I slept last night soundly for some strange reason, and woke quite late
on Sunday morning.

One frequently has some sense of depression or some sense of exhaltation
before one is quite conscious, and quite often cannot account for either
state. Presumably Alathea had left me full of contemptuous indifference,
but I awoke with a feeling of joy and satisfaction, which gradually
changed to flatness, when I became fully aware of things.

For indeed what reason had I for great rejoicing? None, except that the
menace of the Suzette bogie may be lifted.

I rang for Burton. It was nine o'clock.

"Has Her Ladyship breakfasted yet, Burton?"

"Her Ladyship breakfasted at eight, and left the house at half-past, Sir
Nicholas."

My heart sank. So I was going to have a lonely morning. She had said she
wanted to go to her mother, I remembered now. I did not hurry to get up.
The doctors were coming with the wonderful artist who is making my new
foot, at twelve o'clock, and I am to have it on to-day for the first
time. This would be a surprise for Alathea when she returned to lunch. I
read my journal in bed, and thought over the whole of our acquaintance.
Yes, certainly she has greatly changed in the last six weeks. And
possibly I am nearer my goal than I could have dared to hope.

Now my method must be to be sweet to her, and not tease her any more.