Reluctantly leaving her hiding place, Vivian went to the door and let Jane into the library. She, dressed in her new, freshly pressed uniform, smiled happily and handed Vivian two letters.

– Your mail, Mrs. Wington! – The maid held out the letters to her friend, but when she saw Vivian's tired face and the circles under her eyes, she frowned. – Are you having insomnia again? You look as if you'd been up all night!

'That's precisely what it was, Jane… I don't belong to myself at night… As well as during the day,' Vivian thought, but forced herself to smile softly and reply:

– 'I beg you, in private, call me what you used to call me, Miss Vivian. Yes, insomnia again-I got up incredibly early. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd read a good novel," she lied, taking the letters from Jane, and glancing at the sender's address, grinned ironically. – A letter from Anthony… I wonder how he reacted when he found out I'd married his best friend?

– If he did, Miss Vivian," Jane put in. – He's so far away! Up north!

– Of course he found out, silly! – Vivian laughed softly as she unsealed a letter from her cousin. – All births, deaths and marriages are reported in many newspapers, and the Cranfords always get at least three different fresh papers every morning. I think Anthony has learnt of my wedding late, but, my dear, he, and my dear good Aunt Beatrice, must be extremely glad of the news. Especially my aunt-she has been trying so hard to pass me off as old man Darbinell! I hope she is biting her elbows now, knowing that her poor niece has become the wife of a man much richer than herself. – Grinning to herself, the girl ran her eyes over the lines Anthony had written and smiled broadly: "Well, there! I was right! Listen to what my cousin writes! "My dear Viviane, this news, I confess, has astonished me to the very depths of my soul, but this astonishment was a feeling of pleasure, for now, knowing that you have achieved your purpose, I am calm for you and your Richard…"

– Who is Richard, Miss Vivian? – Jane enquired. She went to the fireplace, took the poker and stirred the still smouldering embers. – Shall I get some more wood?

– Who is Richard? – Vivian repeated thoughtfully, biting her lip as she considered whether to tell Jane about Richard.

– Yes, who is he? – The maid asked again, turning to her friend. She was very curious about this mysterious man.

– I hope I shall soon introduce you to him," said Vivian, instead of answering. – But listen to this: "I know that Jeremy does not and probably never will capture your heart, but I know his soul and I assure you that he will be a good spouse, a reliable man and a good father to your future children…" She hesitated and wrinkled her nose.

"Ah, my naive cousin! I don't think you know the man you call your best friend that well! You are convinced that you know his soul, and that it is beautiful, but how wrong you are! And how wrong I was when I thought I could keep him under my thumb! – ran through the girl's mind, and the desire to read this letter full of joy was gone. – No, no, I can't read it! And Jeremy must not see these lines either! If he found out about Richard that way, he would kill me… kill me with his jealousy."

– Put some wood in the fire, Jane," said Vivian quietly, crumpling up the letter.

– As you say, Miss Vivian," she said, but was surprised at the sudden change in her friend's mood. She did not ask any more questions, but simply lighted the fire in the fireplace.

When the flames were dancing their merry dance again, Vivian went to the fireplace and threw a crumpled ball of paper into its hot heart.

– Miss Vivian? Is something wrong? – A worried Jane asked quietly. – Has your cousin written you something hurtful?

– No, Jane… He's happy for me. But my husband mustn't find out about Richard. He will. Later. Not today. – Vivian sighed heavily and hid her face in her hands. – 'But we must go… Jeremy is expecting me for breakfast… .

– We have to get you cleaned up first! – Jane said firmly. – I promise I'll have you dressed and combed in half an hour. You know I can work miracles, don't you?

– I know, darling, I know. – Vivian took her palms away from her face and looked at her maid friend and smiled broadly.

How good it was to have Jane by her side again! Fortunately, Jeremy had not refused his wife's request to take this girl into the house and even pay her double what Lady Cranford paid her.

– How is your mother? I hope she is better? – Vivian asked as the girls walked slowly down the corridor, now brightly lit by the sunlight.

– Much better! Thank you for that! – Shining like a polished coin, Jane replied. – What about your jewellery? Have you bought them back yet?

– My goodness, Jane, how good of you to remind me of that! I had forgotten all about them! – Vivian exclaimed with the palm pressed to her heart. – I shall go for them today!

Half an hour later, as faithful Jane had promised, Vivian was dressed in one of her beautiful morning dresses, and her hair was arranged in a high style. There was no trace left of the girl who barefooted, with her hair loose, and wearing a dressing-gown over her night-dress, had been hiding from her own husband in the darkness of the library. Mrs. Wington, who had taken her place at the table in the bright, large dining-room, looked like a goddess descending from the heights of Olympus to the world of mortals. And Mr. Wington, her husband, dressed in an elegant morning suit, kept his eyes on her, while she smiled at him and kept up their uncomplicated and intimate conversation in an affectionate tone.

– We have been sent invitations again. Three to be exact," said the landlord. – But I have no desire to attend another ball. I'm tired of them.

– Very well, my dear. Let's stay at home and make the most of our time," said his wife, who had also had enough of balls and soirees.

– What post have you received, my love? – Jeremy asked, kissing his wife's white, graceful neck with a possessive look.

– A letter from Anthony. He congratulated us on our marriage and wished us well," Vivian replied briefly, carefully spreading a tiny amount of butter on half a small bun.

– Did he write when he would return to London?

– 'I can't remember, my dear. His niece is still bedridden.

– And the second letter?

"Is he checking my post?" – Vivian was unpleasantly surprised, but dared not say it aloud.

– It's from Casterbridge," she answered in an even tone. – But I haven't opened it yet.

– I want to read it," Jeremy said with a smile.

– I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm not going to let you read my private correspondence," Mrs. Wington said calmly.

– What are you afraid of? – Jeremy narrowed his eyes.

– 'I'm not afraid of anything, my dear. It's just a letter from my father. I think he's asking you for money again.

– If it's a letter from your father, why won't you show it to me? – Mr. Wington insisted again with a smile, but with a cold glint in his eyes.

– 'Because this letter is meant for me and not for you, my love. – Fortunately, Vivian was perfectly in control of herself and did not let her emotions take over. – But, my dear, do you suspect me of something?

– Not at all, my angel. Well, tell your father he won't get more than a thousand pounds this time. What's he already spent what you sent him a little while ago?

– He's trying to rebuild his print shop and needs to buy new equipment. – Vivian nonchalantly continued to butter her bun. – But, my dear, you must not send him money. Not yet. I think he realises he's asking for too much.

– When is he going to visit you and meet your husband? – Jeremy wiped his lips with his napkin and threw it on the empty plate.