Diana talked herself into the most rose-colored plans for Fanny Merton's
benefit--so voluminous, indeed, that Mrs. Colwood had to leave her in
the middle of them that she might go up-stairs and mend a rent in her
walking-dress. Diana was left alone in the drawing-room, still smiling
and dreaming. In her impulsive generosity she saw herself as the earthly
providence of her cousin, sharing with a dear kinswoman her own unjustly
plentiful well-being.
Then she took up the letter again. It ran thus:
"My dear Diana,--You mustn't think it cheeky my calling you
that, but I am your real cousin, and mother told me to write
to you. I hope too you won't be ashamed of us though we are
poor. Everybody knows us in Barbadoes, though of course
that's not London. I am the eldest of the family, and I got
very tired of living all in a pie, and so I've come home to
England to better myself.--A year ago I was engaged to be
married, but the young man behaved badly. A good riddance,
all my friends told me--but it wasn't a pleasant experience.
Anyway now I want to earn some money, and see the world a
little.
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