"They are my only relations in the world--that I know of--that papa ever
spoke to me about. Mamma's sister married Mr. Merton. He was a planter
in Barbadoes. He died about three years ago, but his widow and daughters
have lived on there. They were very poor and couldn't afford to come
home. Fanny is the eldest--I think she must be about twenty."
Diana paced up and down, with her hands behind her, wondering when her
telegram would reach her cousin, who was staying at a London
boarding-house, when she might be expected at Beechcote, how long she
could be persuaded to stay--speculations, in fact, innumerable. Her
agitation was pathetic in Mrs. Colwood's eyes. It testified to the
girl's secret sense of forlornness, to her natural hunger for the ties
and relationships other girls possessed in such abundance.
Mrs. Colwood inquired if it was long since she had had news of her
cousins.
"Oh, some years!" said Diana, vaguely. "I remember a letter
coming--before we went to the East--and papa reading it. I know"--she
hesitated--"I know he didn't like Mr. Merton."
She stood still a moment, thinking. The lights and shadows of reviving
memory crossed her face, and presently her thought emerged, with very
little hint to her companion of the course it had been taking out
of sight.
Pages:
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120