was wakened up to die. Nature
herself, which had been so kind a year ago, brought her now the
irrevocable message. A whole year had gone by, a year of silence; it
was merely impossible that Evan could be true to her. If he had been
true, he would have overleaped all barriers, rather than let this
silence last; but indeed he had no barriers to overleap; he had only to
write; and he had plenty of time for it. _She_ might have overleaped
barriers, earlier in the year, if she could have known the case was so
desperate; and yet, Diana reflected, she could not and would not, even
so. It was well she had not tried. For if Evan needed to be held, she
would not put out a finger to hold him.

Of this change in Diana's mood it is safe to say that nothing was
visible. Feeling as if every nerve and sense were become an avenue of
living pain, dying mentally a slow death, she showed nothing of it to
others. Mind and body were so sound and strong, and the poise of her
nature was matched with such a sweet dignity, that she was able to go
through her usual round of duties in quite her usual way; "die and make
no sign." Nothing was neglected in any wise, nothing was slurred or
hurried over; thoroughly, diligently, punctually, she did the work from
which all heart was gone out, and even Mrs. Starling, keen enough to
see anything if only she had a clue to it, watched and saw nothing. For
Diana's cheek had been pale for a good while now, and she had never
been a talkative person, lately less than ever; so the fact that in
these days she never talked at all did not strike her mother. But such
power of self-containing is a dangerous gift for a woman.

No doubt the extreme bustle and variety of the autumn and early winter
work helped Mrs. Starling to shut her eyes to what she did not want to
see; helped Diana too. Fall ploughing and sowing were to be attended
to; laying down the winter's butter, storing the vegetables, disposing
of the grain, fatting cattle, wood cutting and hauling, and repairing
of fences, which Mrs. Starling always had done punctually in the fall
as soon as the ploughs were put up. For nothing under Mrs. Starling's
care was ever left at loose ends; there was not a better farmer in
Pleasant Valley than she. Then the winter closed in, early in those
rather high latitudes; and pork-killing time came, when for some time
nothing was even thought of in the house but pork in its various
forms,--lard, sausage, bacon, and hams, with