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Updated: September 16, 2025
Her dog's head was on her knees, and one of her slender hands rested on the black and tan. Mrs. Colwood admired the picture. Miss Mallory's sloping shoulders and long waist were well shown by her simple dress of black and closely fitting serge. Her head crowned and piled with curly black hair, carried itself with an amazing self-possession and pride, which was yet all feminine.
I think we ought to be going back." "Would you mind asking Sir James?" Marsham pointed to the upper terrace. "I have something to see to in the garden." Diana said hurriedly that Mrs. Colwood would send the order to the stables, and that she herself would not be long. Alicia took no notice of this remark. She still looked at Oliver. "You'll come back with us, won't you?" Marsham flushed.
Colwood, looking on, could only feel that had they never played their impish part, the winter afternoon for these two companions of hers would have been infinitely less agreeable. For certainly denunication and argument became Diana all the more that she was no "female franzy" who must have all the best of the talk; she listened she evoked she drew on, and drew out. Mrs.
She stood absently by the fire taking off her bracelets and necklace. Mrs. Colwood made a few remarks about the evening and the guests, with little response, and presently wondered why she was detained. At last Diana put up her hands, and smoothed back the hair from her temples with a long sigh. Then she laid a sudden grasp upon Mrs. Colwood, and looked earnestly and imploringly into her face.
Colwood came upon her standing motionless, her finger in an open book, her eyes wandering absently through the casement windows to the distant wall of hill.
Colwood again touched her hair with a hand that trembled. "They are your only relations, aren't they?" she said, pleadingly. "Yes," said Diana, still with the same roused look. "Perhaps it would set them on their feet altogether." The girl gave a puzzled laugh. "Did she Muriel, did she ask you to tell me?" "I think she wanted me to break it to you," said Mrs. Colwood, after a moment.
Ferrier and Lady Lucy were left, looking at each other in anxiety. But before they could put it into words, Marsham reappeared, in evident agitation. He hurried to the bell and rang it. Lady Lucy pointedly made no inquiry. But Ferrier spoke. "No bad news, I hope?" Marsham turned. "She has been told?" he said, hoarsely, "Mrs. Colwood, her companion, speaks of 'shock. I must go down at once."
Fanny Merton hesitated, looked at Mrs. Colwood a moment dubiously, and finally walked up to her. "Oh, I don't care about going out, it's so cold and nasty. And, besides, I I want to talk to you." "Miss Mallory thought you might like to see the old gardens," said Mrs. Colwood. "But if you would rather not venture out, I'm afraid I must go and write some letters."
"No one can ever love it as much as I do!" she said at last "because I have been an exile. That will be my advantage always." "Your compensation perhaps." "Mrs. Colwood puts it that way. Only I don't like having my grievance taken away." "Against whom?" "Ah! not against papa!" she said, hurriedly "against Fate!"
Marsham hurried to the garden and to the spot under the yews, where the death had taken place. Round the garden chairs were signs of trampling feet the feet of the gardeners who had carried the body. A medley of books, opened letters, and working-materials lay on the grass. Marsham looked through them; they all belonged to Diana or Mrs. Colwood.
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