lready, and you
wouldn't listen. You should send her to a good school--"

"It's too late for that. She wouldn't go."

"Then you should have some woman to live in your house who would be wise
enough to manage her."

He jerked out the monosyllable, and began, according to his custom when
puzzled or annoyed, to stride up and down the library.

"That is," Miss Lucilla went on, "you wouldn't like it. It would bore
you to see a stranger in the house."

"Naturally."

"And so you would sacrifice Dorothea to your personal convenience."

"I wouldn't, if there was a woman competent to take the place; but there
isn't."

"There is. There's Diane Eveleth."

"Who?"

The dark flush that swept into his face made it clear to Lucilla that
his question was not put for purposes of information. She had remarked
in Derek during the past few weeks a manner of fighting shy of Diane at
variance with his usual method with women. Safety in flight was the
course he commonly adopted; but since Diane appeared on the scene,
Lucilla had noticed that it was flight with a curious tendency to
looking backward.

"I said Diane Eveleth," she replied, in tactful answer to his
superfluous question; "and I assure you she's fully equal to the duties
you would require of her. I suppose you've never noticed her
especially--?"

"I used to know her a little," he said, in an offhand manner. "I've seen
her here. That's all."

"If a woman could have been made on purpose for what you want, it's
she."

"Dear me! You don't say so!"

"It's no use trying to be sarcastic about it, Derek. She's not the one
to suffer by it; it's Dorothea. Though, when it comes to suffering, she
has her share, poor thing."

"I suppose no decent woman who has just lost her husband is expected to
be absolutely hilarious over the event."

"She hasn't _just_ lost him; it's getting on toward a year. And,
besides, it isn't only that. As a matter of fact, I don't believe she
ever loved him as she could love the man to whom she gave her heart. If
grief was her only trouble, I am sure the poor thing could bear it."

"And can't she bear it as it is?"

"The fact that she does bear it shows that she can; but it must be hard
for a woman, who has lived as she has, to be brought to want."

"Want? Isn't that a strong word? One isn't in want unless one is without
food and shelter."

"She has the shelter for the time being; I'm not sure that she always
has the food."

"What? You d