I like that story. It matches the
picture and the tapestry.
Our day stopped at Chichester, and my letter must stop, too, for all
this I tell you of was only yesterday. We arrived last evening, and now
it's nearly midnight of the next day. I began to write just after
dinner, sitting in my dear old-fashioned room, and if I don't soon say
good-night I shan't get much beauty sleep. To-morrow morning, at
half-past nine, we're going on; but before we start I'll scribble a
Chichester postscript. So you see, I must be up bright and early,
especially as I mean to fly out for one more glimpse of the
cathedral--though I spent most of this afternoon in it.
I wonder if you are sparing a few minutes to-night to dream of
Your Audrie?
P. S.--Eight-twenty in the morning, and I've been up for two hours.
You'd like Chichester immensely. I don't say "love," for it hasn't
engaged my affections, somehow; but I do love the beautiful jewel of a
market cross, and some of the tombs in the cathedral. The cross is quite
a baby compared with lots of others, it seems, being only just born at
the time Henry VIII. was cutting off pretty ladies' heads when he had
tired of their hearts.
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