Certainly until he could receive letters and read them himself, she must wait.
Cheiron would, of course, inform her when that time came.

A doubt of John Derringham's loyalty to her never even cast its shadow upon her soul, nor a suspicion that he could doubt her either.
All these things were the frosts and rains of their winter, but the springtime would come and the glorious sun and flowers.
She was growing accustomed to London and the life of continual bustle, and was almost grateful for it all as it kept her from thinking.
Her stepfather and his wife mixed in a rising half-set of society where many people who were not fools came, and a number who were, but to Halcyone they all seemed a weariness.

No one appeared to see anything straightly, and they seemed to be taken up with pursuits that could not divert or interest a cat.

She saw quite a number of young men at dinners and was taken to the theater and suppers at the fashionable restaurants, and these entertainments she loathed.

She was too desperately unhappy underneath to get even youth's exhilaration out of them, and when she had been in London for nearly three weeks and Cheiron was preparing to return to his cottage, having delayed his departure much beyond his ordinary time, she felt she could endure the martyrdom no more.
She had stilled every voice which had whispered to her that it was indeed time that she heard some word from her lover.