ppose'n he asked you to let him show
you the Mississippi--or the Pacific Ocean; couldn't you help that?"

"Mother, I am ashamed!" said poor Diana. "Just think. He is educated,
and has every advantage, and is an officer in the United States army
now; and what am I?"

"Worth three dozen of him," said Mrs. Starling decidedly.

"He wouldn't think so, mother, nor anybody else but you."

"Well, _I_ think so, mind, and that's enough. I ain't a goin' to give
you to him, not if he was fifty officers in the United States army. So
keep my words, Diana, and mind what I say. I never will give you to
him, nor to any other man that calls himself a soldier and looks down
upon folks that are better than he is. I won't let you marry him; so
don't you go and tell him you will."

"He won't ask me, mother. You make me ashamed!" said Diana, with her
cheeks burning; "but I am sure he does not look down upon me."

"Nobody shall marry you that sets himself up above me," said Mrs.
Starling as she closed her door. "Mind!"

And Diana went into her own room, and shut her door, and sat down to
breathe. "Suppose he should ask you to let him show you the
Mississippi, or the Pacific?" And the hot flush rushed over her and she
hid her face, as if even from herself. "He will not. But what if he
should?" Mrs. Starling had raised the question. Diana, in very maidenly
shame, tried to beat it down and stamp the life out of it. But that was
more than she could do.

CHAPTER VII.

BELLES AND BLACKBERRIES.

In the first flush of Diana's distress that night, it had seemed to her
that the sight of Lieut. Knowlton in all time to come could but give
her additional distress. How could she look at him? But the clear
morning light found her nerves quiet again, and her cheeks cool; and a
certain sweet self-respect, in which she held herself always, forbade
any such flutter of vanity or stir even of fancy as could in any wise
ruffle the simple dignity of this country girl's manner. She had no
careful mother's training, or father's watch and safeguard; the
artificial rules of propriety were still less known to her; but innate
purity and modesty, and, as I said, the poise of a true New England
self-respect, stood her in better stead. When Diana saw Mr. Knowlton
the next time, she was conscious of no discomposure; and _he_ was
struck with the placid elegance of manner, formed in no school, which
was the very outgrowth of the truth within her. His own