can't bear
to go back."

"Why?"

"Mr. Masters, mother wants me to"--Diana hesitated--"marry a rich man."

The minister was silent.

"He is there all the while--I mean, very often; he has not spoken out
yet, but mother has; and she favours him all she can."

"You do not?"

"I wish I could never see him again!" sighed Diana.

"You can send him away, I should think."

"I can't, till he asks my leave to stay. And I am so tired. He came to
take me to church this morning; and I ran away before it was time to
go."

"You cannot be disposed of against your will, Miss Diana."

"I seem to have so little will now. Sometimes I am almost ready to be
afraid mother and he together will tire me out. Nothing seems to matter
any more."

"That would be a great mistake."

"Yes!"--said Diana, getting up from her chair and looking out towards
the storm with a despairing face;--"people make mistakes sometimes. Mr.
Masters, you must think me very strange--but I trust you--and I wanted
help so much"--

"And I have not given you any."

"You would if you could."

"And I will if I can. I have thought of more than I have spoken. When
can I see you again, to consult further? It must be alone."

"I don't know. This is my chance. Tell me now. What have you thought
of?"

"I never speak about business on Sunday," said the minister, meeting
Diana's frank eyes with a slight smile which was very far from
merriment.

"Is this business?"

"Partly of that character."

"I don't know, then," said Diana. "We must take our chance. Thank you,
Mr. Masters."

"May I ask what for?"

"For your kindness."

"I should like to be kind to you," said he. "Now the present practical
question, which cannot be put off, Miss Diana, is--how are you going to
get home?"

"And you?"

"That is a secondary matter and easily disposed of. I live
comparatively near by. It is out of the question that you should drive
three miles in this storm."

Both stood and listened to the blast for a few minutes. There was no
denying the truth of his words. In fact, it would be a doubtful thing
for a strong man to venture himself and his beast out in the fury of
the whirling wind and snow; for a woman, it was not to be thought of.
Mr. Masters considered. For him to take Diana, supposing the storm
would let him, to the house of some near neighbour, would be awkward
enough, and give rise to endless and boundless town talk. To carry her
home, three miles, was, as he