Edith wrote fluently and well, if not graphically. She could not only seize the salient and characteristic points of a scene, but she could enumerate enough of indiscriminate particular for Margaret to make it out for herself. Captain Lennox and another lately married officer shared a villa, high up on the beautiful precipitous rocks overhanging the sea. Their days, late as it was in the year, seemed spent in boating or land-picnics; all out-of-doors, pleasure-seeking and glad, Edith's life seemed like the deep vault of blue sky above her, free--utterly free from fleck or cloud. Her husband had to attend drill, and she, the most musical officer's wife there, had to copy the new and popular tunes out of the most recent English music, for the benefit of the bandmaster; those seemed their most severe and arduous duties. She expressed an affectionate hope that, if the regiment stopped another year at Corfu, Margaret might come out and pay her a long visit. She asked Margaret if she remembered the day twelve-month on which she, Edith, wrote--how it rained all day long in Harley Street; and how she would not put on her new gown to go to a stupid dinner, and get it all wet and splashed in going to the carriage; and how at that very dinner they had first met Captain Lennox.

Edith wrote fluently and well. Captain Lennox and another lately married officer shared a villa, high up on the beautiful cliffs. Their days seemed spent in boating and picnics, utterly free from any cloud. Edith's husband had to attend drill, and she had to copy out the newest English tunes for the benefit of the bandmaster; those were their most arduous duties. She expressed an affectionate hope that Margaret might come out and pay her a long visit. She asked if Margaret remembered the day a year ago when it rained in Harley Street; and how Edith would not put on her new gown to go to a stupid dinner, and get it all wet; and how at that very dinner they had first met Captain Lennox.
