ere rare. But no one watching the two on
this February evening could have failed to see in Diana signs of
happiness, of a joyous and growing dependence, of something that refused
to know itself, that masqueraded now as this feeling, now as that, yet
was all the time stealing upon the sources of life, bewitching blood and
brain. Marsham lamented that in ten days he and his mother must be in
town for the Parliamentary season. Diana clearly endeavored to show
nothing more than a polite regret. But in the half-laughing,
half-forlorn requests she made to him for advice in certain practical
matters which must be decided in his absence she betrayed herself; and
Marsham found it amazingly sweet that she should do so. He said eagerly
that he and Lady Lucy must certainly come down to Tallyn every alternate
Sunday, so that the various small matters he had made Diana intrust to
him--the finding of a new gardener; negotiations with the Vavasours,
connected with the cutting of certain trees--or the repairs of a ruinous
gable of the house--should still be carried forward with all possible
care and speed. Whereupon Diana inquired how such things could possibly
engage the time and thought of a politician in the full stream of
Parliament.

"They will be much more interesting to me," said Marsham, in a low
steady voice, "than anything I shall be doing in Parliament."

Diana rose, in sudden vague terror--as though with the roar in her ears
of rapids ahead--murmured some stammering thanks, walked across the
room, lowered a lamp which was flaming, and recovered all her smiling
self-possession. But she talked no more of her own affairs. She asked
him, instead, for news of Miss Vincent.

Marsham answered, with difficulty. If there had been sudden alarm in
her, there had been a sudden tumult of the blood in him. He had almost
lost his hold upon himself; the great words had been almost spoken.

But when the conversation had been once more guided into normal
channels, he felt that he had escaped a risk. No, no, not yet! One false
step--one check--and he might still find himself groping in the dark.
Better let himself be missed a little!--than move too soon. As to
Roughsedge--he had kept his eyes open. There was nothing there.

So he gave what news of Marion Vincent he had to give. She was still in
Bethnal Green working at her inquiry, often very ill, but quite
indomitable. As soon as Parliament began she had promised to do some
secretarial w