"Can you tell me your mother's name?"
"It was an old Staffordshire family. But she and papa met in America,
and they married there. Her father died not long afterward, I think. And
I have never heard of any relations but the one sister, Mrs. Merton. Her
name was Wentworth. Oh!" It was an involuntary cry of physical pain.
"Diana!--Did I hurt your hand? my darling!"
The sudden tightness of his grip had crushed her fingers. She smiled at
him, as he kissed them, in hasty remorse.
"And her Christian name?" he asked, in a low voice.
"Juliet."
There was a pause. They had turned back, and were walking toward the
house. The air had grown much colder; frosty stars were twinkling, and
a chilly wind was blowing light clouds across the moon. The two figures
moved slowly in and out of the bands of light and shadow which crossed
the avenue.
Diana stopped suddenly.
"If there were something terrible to know!"--she said,
trembling--"something which would make you ashamed of me!--"
Her tall slenderness bent toward him--she held out her hands piteously.
Marsham's manhood asserted itself. He encircled her again with his
strong arm, and she hid her face against him.
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