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Updated: June 16, 2025
Eustace strode down the long room looking neither to right nor left, moving with a free, British arrogance that served to emphasize somewhat cruelly the meagreness and infirmity of the man behind him. Yet it was upon the latter's slight, halting figure that Dinah's eyes dwelt till it finally limped out of sight, and in her look were wonder and a vagrant admiration.
But the humble cottage rooms had been beautified and transformed by hers and Dinah's thoughtful care for the invalid, and one comfort after another had found their way from the Wood House.
Hetty sat quite still; she felt no response within herself to Dinah's anxious affection; but Dinah's words uttered with solemn pathetic distinctness, affected her with a chill fear. Her flush had died away almost to paleness; she had the timidity of a luxurious pleasure-seeking nature, which shrinks from the hint of pain.
"And now how many may I have? All the waltzes?" Dinah's laugh rang so gaily that several heads were turned in her direction, and she smothered it in alarm. "I can only give you one," she said, with a great effort at sobriety. "What? Oh, nonsense!" he protested, his blue eyes dominating hers. "You couldn't be so shabby as that!" Dinah's chin pointed merrily upwards. The situation had its humour.
"A woman is different! If she gives her heart where it is not wanted, that is her affair alone." He did not pursue his advantage; he liked her for the blush. "Isn't it rather an unprofitable discussion?" he said gently. "Suppose we get to our game of Patience!" And Rose acquiesced in silence. A long, curling wave ran up the shingle and broke in a snow-white sheet of foam just below Dinah's feet.
With a loud bark and a rush he burst from his cage of chairs, intent on playing with Snoop, for he and the cat were great friends. Just at that moment fat Dinah, the colored cook, came into the room to ask Mrs. Bobbsey something. Snoop, seeing the open door, and being tired of doing tricks for the children, made a dash to get out, darting under Dinah's skirts.
"You mustn't bother about me," he said, and the sudden rapture had all gone out of his voice; it had the flatness of utter weariness. "I shall be all right." But Dinah's hands yet clung to his shoulders. Those moments of yielding had revealed to her more than any subsequent word or action could belie. Her eyes, shining with a great light, looked straight into his. "Dear Scott!
But it was Scott who succeeded with the utmost gentleness in discovering the trouble. He came in late in the morning and sat down beside her for a few minutes. "I have been writing letters for my brother," he said in his quiet way, "or I should have called for news of you sooner. Isabel tells me you have had a bad night." Dinah's face was flushed and her eyes very bright.
"I couldn't sleep last night, and he came into my room, and we had a long talk. He is one of the best, Dinah; one of the best. I'm afraid you've made rather a poor exchange." Something in his tone banished the last of Dinah's shyness. She gave him her basket of china and prepared to descend. He stretched up a courteous hand to help her, but she would have none of it.
God alone knows how many will see His hand in this great judgment, and will turn to Him in fear if not in love!" Before many minutes had passed affrighted servants began peeping and then crowding into the room, as though they felt more assurance in presence of Dinah's quiet steadfastness and courage. The faces of the maids were pale with apprehension.
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