Alice had written to him occasionally from Switzerland, and her first two letters had been very charming. They had referred almost exclusively to the tour, and had been made pleasant with some slightly coloured account of George Vavasor's idleness, and of Kate's obedience to her brother's behests. Alice had never written much of love in her love-letters, and Grey was well enough contented with her style, though it was not impassioned. As for doubting her love, it was not in the heart of the man to do so after it had been once assured to him by her word. He could not so slightly respect himself or her as to leave room for such a doubt in his bosom. He was a man who could never have suggested to himself that a woman loved him till the fact was there before him; but who having ascertained, as he might think, the fact, could never suggest to himself that her love would fail him. Her first two letters from Switzerland had been very pleasant; but after that there had seemed to have crept over her a melancholy which she unconsciously transferred to her words, and which he could not but taste in them,--at first unconsciously, also, but soon with so plain a flavour that he recognised it, and made it a matter of mental inquiry. During the three or four last days of the journey, while they were at Basle and on their way home, she had not written. But she did write on the day after her arrival, having then received from Mr. Grey a letter, in which he told her how very much she would add to his happiness if she would now agree that their marriage should not be postponed beyond the end of October. This letter she found in her room on her return, and this she answered at once. 
Alice had written to him occasionally from Switzerland, and her first two letters had been very charming. They had described the tour pleasantly, with some slightly coloured account of George Vavasor's idleness, and of Kate's obedience to her brother. Alice had never written much of love in her love-letters, and Grey was contented. He did not doubt her love. He was a man who could never have suggested to himself that a woman loved him till she accepted him; but after that, he could never think that her love would fail.
After those first two letters, however, there seemed to have crept into them an unconscious melancholy, which he soon recognised and thought much about. During the three or four last days of the journey, while they were on their way home, she had not written.
But on her arrival she received from Mr. Grey a letter which told her how very much she would add to his happiness if she would agree that their marriage should not be postponed beyond October. She answered this letter at once,