if she had grown ten years older. It went on so all
dinner-time. She talked instead of eating, and all the evening those
bright eyes of hers seemed to be keeping jealous watch that no one
should exchange any words in private.

Nor could we till poor Lady Diana, with a fagged miserable face, came
to my room at night, and I called Dermot in. And then she told us how
the child had "seemed to bear everything most beautifully," and had
never given way. I believe it was from that grain of perversity in
Viola's high-spirited nature, as well as the having grown up without
confidence towards her mother, which forbade her to mourn visibly among
unsympathising watchers; and when her hope was gone led her in her dull
despair to do as they pleased, try to distract her thoughts, let
herself be hunted hither and thither, and laugh at and play with Pigou
St. Glear quite enough to pass for an encouraging flirtation, and to
lead all around her to think their engagement immediately coming on.
The only thing she refused to do was to go to the Farnese Palace, where
was the statue to which there had more than once been comparisons made.
At last, one day, when they were going over the Vatican Galleries,
everyone was startled by a strange peal of laughter, and before a
frieze of the Labours of Hercules stood Pigou, looking pale and
frightened, and trying to get Viola away, as she stood pointing to the
carrying home of the Erymanthian boar, and laughing in this wild forced
way. They got her away at last, but Piggy told his father that he
would have no more to do with her, even if their uncle left her half
his property, though he never would tell what she had said to him.

Since that time she had gone on in this excited state, apparently
scarcely eating or sleeping, talking incessantly, not irrationally, but
altogether at random, mockingly and in contradiction to everyone;
caring chiefly to do the very thing her mother did not wish, never
resting, and apparently with untiring vigour, though her cheeks and
hands were burning, and she was wasting away from day to day.

Lady Diana really thought her mind was going, and by this time would
have given all she had in the world to have been able to call Harold
back to her. Diana Enderby tried reproofs for her flightiness, but
only made her worse; with Dermot she would only make ridiculous
nonsense, and utter those heartrending laughs; and when I tried to
soothe her, and speak low and quietly, she