stitching, so as to avoid the necessity for
further greeting. "I suppose you wonder what I'm doing," she pursued,
when he had seated himself.

"I'm not wondering at that so much as whether you ought to be doing it."

"I can relieve your mind on that score. It's a case, too, in which duty
and pleasure jump together; for the delight of handling beautiful linen
is like nothing else in the world."

"It seems to me like servants' work," he said, bluntly.

"Possibly; but I can do servants' work at a pinch--especially when I
like it."

"I don't," he declared.

"But then you don't have to do it."

"I mean that I don't like it for you."

"Even so, you wouldn't forbid my doing it, would you?"

"I wish I had the right to. I've come here this afternoon to ask you
again if you won't give it to me."

For a few minutes she stitched in silence. When she spoke it was without
stopping her work or lifting her head.

"I'm sorry that you should raise that question again. I thought it was
settled."

"Supposing it was, it can be reopened--if there's a reason."

"But there is none."

"That's all you know about it. There's a very important reason."

"Since--when?"

"Since Lakefield."

"Do you mean anything that Monsieur de Bienville may have said?"

"I do."

"That wouldn't be a reason--for me."

"But you don't know--"

"I can imagine. Monsieur de Bienville has already done me all the harm
he can. It's beyond his power to hurt me any more."

"But, Diane, you don't know what you're saying. You don't know what he's
doing. He's--he's--I hardly know how to put it--He's destroying your
reputation."

She glanced up with a smile, ceasing for an instant to sew.

"You mean, he's destroying what's left of it. Well, he's welcome! There
was so little of it--"

"For God's sake, Diane, don't say that; it breaks my heart. You must
consider the position that you put me in. After you've rendered me one
the greatest services one person can do another, do you think I can sit
quietly by while you are being robbed of the dearest thing in life, just
because you did it?"

"I should be sorry to think the opinion other people hold of me to be
the dearest thing in life; but, even if it were, I'd willingly give it
up for--Dorothea."

"It isn't for Dorothea; it's for me."

"Well, wouldn't you let me do it--for you? I'm not of much use in the
world, but it would make me a little happier to think I could do any one
a good turn without