But she had been brought up in a school of reticence, and her loyalty to
her father and mother sealed her lips. That anxiety, that burden, nobody
must share with her but Oliver--and perhaps his mother; his mother, so
soon to be hers.

Muriel Colwood, watching her face, could hardly restrain herself. But
the moment for which her whole being was waiting in a tension scarcely
to be borne had not yet come. She chastened and rebuked her own dread.

They talked a little of the future. Diana, in a blessed fatigue, threw
herself back in her chair, and chattered softly, listening now and then
for the sounds of the piano in the room below, and evidently relieved
whenever, after a silence, fresh fragments from some comic opera of the
day, much belied in the playing, penetrated to the upper floor.
Meanwhile, neither of them spoke of Fanny Merton. Diana, with a laugh,
repeated Marsham's proposal for a six weeks' engagement. That was
absurd! But, after all, it could not be very long. She hoped Oliver
would be content to keep Beechcote. They could, of course, always spend
a good deal of time with Lady Lucy.

And in mentioning that name she showed not the smallest misgiving, not
a trace of uneasiness, while every time it was uttered it pricked the
shrinking sense of her companion. Mrs. Colwood had not watched and
listened during her Tallyn visit for nothing.

At last a clock struck down-stairs, and a door opened. Diana sprang up.

"Time to dress! And I've left Fanny alone all this while!"

She hurried toward the door; then turned back.

"Please!--I'm not going to tell Fanny just yet. Neither Fanny nor any
one--till Lady Lucy knows. What happened after we went away? Was
Fanny amused?"

"Very much, I should say."

"She made friends with Miss Drake?"

"They were inseparable, till Miss Drake departed."

Diana laughed.

"How odd! That I should never have prophesied. And Mr. Birch? I needn't
have him to lunch again, need I?"

"Miss Merton invited him to tea--on Saturday."

Diana reddened.

"Must I--!" she said, impetuously; then stopped herself, and opened the
door.

Outside, Fanny Merton was just mounting the stairs, a candle in her
hand. She stopped in astonishment at the sight of Diana.

"Diana! where have you been all this time?"

"Only talking to Muriel. We heard you playing; so we thought you weren't
dull," said Diana, rather penitently.

"I was only playing till you came in," was the sharp reply. "When did
M