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Updated: June 16, 2025
Colwood only said: "I suppose she would not have come over if things had not been very bad." "Why didn't she give me some warning?" cried Diana "instead of talking about French lessons! But am I bound do you think I am bound? to give the Mertons a thousand pounds? I know papa got tired of giving them money. I wonder if it's right!" She frowned. Her voice was a little stern. Her eyes flashed. Mrs.
"I wonder whether that was what she came home for?" Mrs. Colwood moved uneasily. "I suppose if you are in those straits you don't really think of anything else though you may wish to." "Did she tell you how much they want?" said Diana, quickly. "She named a thousand pounds!" Muriel might have been describing her own embarrassments, so scarlet had she become.
She merely asked the messenger to say that "there was no answer." Yet, as they crossed London her heart fluttered within her. One moment her eyes were at the window scanning the bustle of the streets; the next she would force herself to talk and smile with Muriel Colwood. Mrs. Colwood insisted on dinner at the Charing Cross Hotel. Diana submitted.
"Oh, come! come back at once!" Marsham was already in the carriage. The horse galloped forward. Diana and Lady Lucy ran toward the house. "In the garden," said Diana, breathlessly; and, taking Lady Lucy's hand, she guided her. Beside the dying man stood Sir James Chide, Muriel Colwood, and the old butler. Sir James looked up, started at the sight of Lady Lucy, and went to meet her.
Colwood found her own mind invincibly recalled to that name on the box of papers, which still haunted her, still brought with it a vague sense of something painful and harrowing a breath of desolation, in strange harmony, it often seemed, with certain looks and moods of Diana. But Mrs. Colwood searched her memory in vain.
Colwood thought that Diana's manner to the young soldier could not have been easily bettered. It was frank and gay with just that tinge of old-fashioned reserve which might be thought natural in a girl of gentle breeding, brought up alone by a fastidious father.
Wasn't it rather plain?" Mrs. Colwood laughed. "Sit down there, and tell me all about it." She pushed Diana into a chair and sat down at her feet. Diana, with some difficulty, her hand over her eyes, told all that could be told of a moment the heart of which no true lover betrays. Muriel Colwood listened with her face against the girl's dress, sometimes pressing her lips to the hand beside her.
Colwood, who had an errand there, and it was true that he had talked much to her out of earshot of his parents, and had taken a warm farewell of her at the end. "Why am I to be 'Henry'-ed?" inquired the doctor, beginning on his cigarette.
Diana crossed the floor, and put her arm round the little gentle woman, whose breath was still shaken by the quiet sobs she was trying desperately to repress. "Muriel, dear! what is it?" Mrs. Colwood found her voice, and her composure. "Nothing! I was foolish it doesn't matter." Diana was sure she understood.
Colwood saw her shiver. "Did she leave you her address?" "Yes. Don't think any more about her. I have something to tell you." Diana's painful start was the measure of her state. Muriel Colwood put her arms tenderly round the slight form. "Mr. Marsham will be here directly. He came last night too late I would not let him see you. Ah!" She released Diana, and made a rapid step to the window.
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