My mother is a rather formidable
person--no one who knew her would ever dream of taking her consent to
anything for granted; but this time"--his laugh was merry--"I didn't
even think of asking it!"
"I shall love her--dearly," murmured Diana.
"Yes, because you won't be afraid of her. Her standards are hardly made
for this wicked world. But you'll hold her--you'll manage her. If you'd
said 'No' to me, she would have felt cheated of a daughter."
"I'm afraid Mrs. Fotheringham won't like it," said Diana, ruefully,
letting herself be gathered again into his arms.
"My sister? I don't know what to say about Isabel, dearest--unless I
parody an old saying. She and I have never agreed--except in opinion. We
have been on the same side--and in hot opposition--since our childhood.
No--I dare say she will be thorny! Why did you fight me so well,
little rebel?"
He looked down into her dark eyes, revelling in their sweetness, and in
the bliss of her surrendered beauty. If this was not his first proposal,
it was his first true passion--of that he was certain.
She released herself--rosy--and still thinking of Mrs. Fotheringham.
"Oliver!"--she laid her hand shyly on his--"neither she nor you will
want me to stifle what I think--to deny what I do really believe? I dare
say a woman's politics aren't worth much"--she laughed and sighed.
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