ar, arranged the
pillows, for she had started half up; and putting her gently back upon
them, said in his calm tones,--"Be quiet, Di; you command here. Mrs.
Starling, shall we go down-stairs?"

Mrs. Starling this time complied without making any objection; but as
she reached the bottom she gave vent to her opinion.

"You are spoiling her!"

"Really--I should like to have the chance."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just the words. I should like to spoil Di. She has never had much of
that sort of bad influence."

"That sounds very weak, to me," said Mrs. Starling.

"To whom should a man show himself weak, if not toward his wife?" said
Basil carelessly.

"Your wife will not thank you for it."

"I will endeavour to retain her respect," said Basil in the same way;
which aggravated Mrs. Starling, beyond bounds. Something about him
always did try her temper, she said to herself.

"Diana is going to have a fever," she spoke abruptly.

"I am afraid of it."

"What's brought it on?"

"I came home two evenings ago and found her on the bed."

"You don't want me, you say. Who do you expect is going to sit up with
her and take care of her?"

"I will try what I can do, for the present."

"You can't manage that and your out-door work too."

"I will manage _that_"--said Basil significantly.

"And let your parish work go? Well, I always thought a minister was
bound to attend to his people."

"Yes. Isn't my wife more one of my people than anybody else? Will you
stay and take a cup of tea, Mrs. Starling?"

"No; if you don't want me, I am going. What will you do if Diana gets
delirious? I think she's out of her head now."

"I'll attend to her," said Basil composedly.

Half suspecting a double meaning in his words, Mrs. Starling took short
leave, and drove off. Not quite easy in her mind, if the truth be told,
and glad to be out of all patience with the minister. Yes, if she had
known how things would turn--if she had known--perhaps, she would not
have thrown that first letter into the fire; which had drawn her on to
throw the second in, and the third. Could any son-in-law, could Evan
Knowlton, at least, have been more untoward for her wishes than the one
she had got? More unmanageable he could not have been; nor more likely
to be spooney about Diana. And now what if Diana really should have a
fever? People talk out in delirium. Well--the minister would keep his
own counsel; she did not care, she said. But all the