At these words, Emily stared blankly at Julia.
A moment later, she drew a deep breath and crossed herself.
"Lord, forgive Miss Julia," Emily said, her voice heavy with pity. "She's simply a little envious of our lady."
"What...?"
Julia, not comprehending what she'd heard, flushed crimson—then went pale an instant later.
In a single stroke, she had become a woman who spouted nonsense out of jealousy.
"You—you *dare*! You think I'm lying?"
Emily, rather than answering, crossed herself again.
*Precisely.*
"You! Insolent girl!"
Julia, unable to bear it any longer, stormed forward with her hand raised to strike—
But Mrs. Ogilvy's voice rang out from down the street, calling her daughter's name.
A moment later, Mrs. Ogilvy appeared at the end of the lane.
Julia clicked her tongue and turned away, walking toward her mother.
Though she longed to slap this impudent maid right now, doing so would certainly invite her mother's wrath.
Nothing good would come of that. Mrs. Ogilvy had been cheerful lately—but also volatile.
And little wonder. Abigail, whom she had assumed would remain by her side forever, had secured a match. A *good* match. No—an *excellent* one.
At first, Mrs. Ogilvy had been skeptical.
What could a man like Sergeant Philip Osborne possibly lack, that he would involve himself with *her* daughter?
She had deliberately questioned Richard and Ryan—did Philip carry large debts? Was he prone to gambling?
But no. From their conversations, Richard emerged as the most dissolute of the three, and Ryan the most reckless.
Between them, Philip served as something of a secretary—the one who reconciled their disputes and solved their problems.
But that didn't mean he lacked masculine strength.
During the village restoration, a quarrel had erupted between the engineering corps and a resident who demanded his house be repaired first.
In that tense atmosphere, with fists about to fly, Philip resolved the situation in an instant.
He called out to the engineering corps in a voice so commanding that those standing nearby felt their ears ring.
His sudden order—delivered with an authority that froze everyone in place—caused the soldiers to snap to attention. The villager who had been raising his voice lowered his head, instantly subdued.
Witnessing this, Mrs. Ogilvy cast aside all her reservations about Philip.
Courageous. Capable. And so gentle with her daughter. Nothing to criticize.
In any case, Philip had proposed to Abigail. Abigail, staring at him in shock, had burst into tears—but a smile shone through them.
Mrs. Ogilvy had chided her affectionately, warning that such a face might make Mr. Osborne reconsider.
But Philip, gazing at Abigail, had shed tears of his own.
She had already suffered many wounds because of her weakness.
So although she had initially accepted his kindness, she maintained her distance. This made Philip suffer all the more. But he, summoning the patience that was considered his greatest virtue, held firm.
He remained always at Abigail's side, offering his hand. Showing her that he could always serve as her support.
At first, she insisted she could manage alone—that she didn't want his help. But over time, she began taking his hand. Eventually, she even leaned on him without hesitation.
Perhaps their marriage had already been decided then.
In any case, joy had come to the Ogilvy household. And Julia was bitter that she wasn't its heroine.
*She* was supposed to be the one receiving congratulations. *She* was supposed to be preparing for a wedding. But something always went wrong. It seemed only those around her flourished.
When she had cautiously confided her feelings to her mother—asking if a suitable match might be found for her—Mrs. Ogilvy had scolded her with unprecedented severity.
**"Your thoughts are exactly why you have no partner! Go and honestly confess your wickedness to God and beg His forgiveness!"**
And that wasn't all. Fearing Julia might say something foolish during Abigail's wedding preparations, Mrs. Ogilvy watched her constantly, eyes sharp as flint.
Today was no different. If her mother discovered that Julia had been meddling in another girl's affairs—spreading such talk—she would scold her to tears.
Or worse. She might send Julia to distant relatives before the wedding preparations were complete.
In the worst case, she might not invite her to the wedding at all.
This had to be avoided.
*Mr. Osborne's friends will surely attend.*
Richard would certainly come. Perhaps Ryan would return as well. Or Philip might bring even more eligible soldiers.
So until the wedding, Julia had to avoid anything that might displease her mother.
Thinking this, she turned away and curled her lip.
Last year, things hadn't been like this. Her mother had attended to her moods each morning. Her sister had considered her opinions. But now she felt like a burden in her own home.
Besides, Eloise irritated her.
All summer, she had made such a show of growing close to Sergeant Thornton!
*But that's all it was.*
Unlike Abigail, who had received a proposal, Eloise hadn't even obtained official permission to begin a courtship.
*Sergeant Thornton must have simply been using her.*
Julia was already certain of this in her heart.
*He left after receiving a letter from a woman named Sylvia, didn't he?*
She had heard it with her own ears. The letter Richard had delivered. The serious tones in which the two men spoke.
*Sylvia... return home... because of that man.*
The fragments she'd overheard set Julia's imagination ablaze. Besides, that smug Sergeant Thornton had departed for the capital the instant he heard Sylvia's summons.
*Perhaps she isn't merely a lover... but already a wife.*
There had been recent scandals about retired military men concealing existing wives while pursuing multiple women.
*Sergeant Thornton is exactly that sort.*
Julia's imagination ran wild.
Yes. That was how it should be. There should be someone more miserable than herself. Then she wouldn't feel so pathetic.
Besides, Eloise had always occupied that position.
And what if Sergeant Thornton and Eloise actually married? What if Eloise remained in Blissbury?
All summer, Julia had boasted that things would work out splendidly between herself and Sergeant Thornton. When it became clear that her words were empty, how the village girls had laughed as she passed.
The reason she had begged her mother to let her stay in Blissbury as long as possible after her recovery—that, too, was fear of returning to the village and becoming a laughingstock.
*Just wait.*
When Abigail's wedding arrived, if Sergeant Thornton failed to appear...
Then she would tell Eloise this sad truth without hesitation.
---
"*Ptah!*"
Emily spat after Julia's retreating figure.
"There's a limit to impudence! What does she think she's doing?"
Emily's eyes blazed. If Mrs. Ogilvy hadn't appeared, she would have seized Julia by the hair—neighbor's daughter or not.
After spitting several more times for good measure, Emily hurried toward Eloise.
Fortunately, her ladyship was sitting on the bench at the village entrance, exactly as expected.
"My lady!"
At Emily's call, Eloise started and quickly closed her book.
"Emily? What's the matter?"
"What do you mean, *what*? The wind has grown terribly cold, and you came out dressed so lightly again. I've brought a thick shawl."
Emily draped the shawl over Eloise's shoulders, casting a reproachful glance toward the sky in the direction of the capital.
*Damn Ryan Thornton. I hope you catch your death of cold!*
While Emily was mentally cursing him, a figure appeared in the distance, approaching Feltham.
Looking closer, she recognized William the postman.
He pedaled his bicycle energetically. Spotting Eloise and Emily on the bench, he waved cheerfully.
"Hello, Miss Eloise! And Emily too! There was just mail for Mr. Severton's house—good thing I met you here."
He handed Eloise a letter.
Eloise accepted it eagerly, her fingers trembling slightly. Emily craned her neck to see who had sent it.
And soon, disappointment settled over both their faces.
On the envelope—addressed in Eloise's own handwriting to *Sergeant Ryan Thornton, 57th Infantry Battalion*—was stamped in large red letters:
**[RETURN TO SENDER: ADDRESSEE NOT FOUND]**