ike," said Diana, also
rising. "Basil won't want me all the morning." But she was eager to
hear what he had to say to her, and hurried after him. He had seemed to
her more than usually preoccupied.

"I do think," she remarked as she reached the study, "the Society eat
more cake than--their work is worth."

"Heresy," said Basil, smiling.

"They don't do much sewing, Basil."

"They do something else. Never mind; let them come and have a good
time. It won't hurt anybody much."

Diana looked at him and smiled, and then waited anxiously. She longed
for some words from Basil different from those he had spoken last
night. Could he not see, that if her passion for Evan was broken, there
was nothing left for him to look grave about? And ought he not to be
jubilant over the confession she had just made to her mother? Diana was
jubilant over it herself; she had set that matter clear at last. It is
true, Basil had not heard the confession, but ought he not to divine
it, when it was the truth? "If I do not just _love_ him," said Diana to
herself, "at least he is the only one I care for in all the world. That
would have made him glad once. And he don't look glad. Does he expect
me to speak out and tell him all that?"

Basil did not look as if he expected her to do any such thing. He was
rather graver than usual, and did not at once say anything. Through the
open window came the air, still damp with dew, laden with the scent of
honeysuckle and roses, jocund with the shouts of birds; and for one
instant Diana's thoughts swept back away to years ago, with a wondering
recognition of the change in herself since _those_ June days. Then her
husband began to speak.

"I have had a call, Diana."

"A call? You have a good many of them always, Basil. What was this?"

"Of a different sort. A call for me--not a call upon me."

"Well, there have always been calls _for_ you too, in plenty, ever
since I have known you. What do you mean?"

"This is a call to me to leave Pleasant Valley," said Basil, watching
her, yet without seeming to do so. Diana looked bewildered.

"To leave Pleasant Valley? Why? And where would you go, Basil?"

"I am called, because the people want somebody and have pitched upon
me. The place is a manufacturing town, not very far from Boston."

"Are you going?"

"That is the point upon which I desire to have your opinion."

"But, Basil, the people here want you too."

"Grant that."

"Then what does it signif