Her voice,
as she murmured the words, was full of a joyous delight; eagerness and
yearning expressed themselves in her bending attitude, her parted lips
and eyes intent upon the star.
The panelled room behind her was dimly lit by a solitary candle, just
kindled. The faint dawn in front, the flickering candle-light behind,
illumined Diana's tall figure, wrapped in a white dressing-gown, her
small head and slender neck, the tumbling masses of her dark hair, and
the hand holding the curtain. It was a kind and poetic light; but her
youth and grace needed no softening.
After the striking of the quarter, the church bell began to ring, with a
gentle, yet insistent note which gradually filled the hollows of the
village, and echoed along the side of the down. Once or twice the sound
was effaced by the rush and roar of a distant train; and once the call
of an owl from a wood, a call melancholy and prolonged, was raised as
though in rivalry. But the bell held Diana's strained ear throughout its
course, till its mild clangor passed into the deeper note of the clock
striking the hour, and then all sounds alike died into a profound yet
listening silence.
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