Colwood, who, in no conventional sense, had been
speeding the parting guest, ran up-stairs again to Diana's room.
"She's gone?" said Diana, faintly. She was standing by the window. As
she spoke the carriage came into view at a bend of the drive and
disappeared into the trees beyond. Mrs. Colwood saw her shiver.
"Did she leave you her address?"
"Yes. Don't think any more about her. I have something to tell you."
Diana's painful start was the measure of her state. Muriel Colwood put
her arms tenderly round the slight form.
"Mr. Marsham will be here directly. He came last night--too late--I
would not let him see you. Ah!" She released Diana, and made a rapid
step to the window. "There he is!--coming by the fields."
Diana sat down, as though her limbs trembled under her.
"Did you send for him?"
"Yes. You forgive me?"
"Then--he hasn't got my letter."
She said it without looking up, as though to herself.
Mrs. Colwood knelt down beside her.
"It is right he should be here," she said, with energy, almost with
command; "it is the right, natural thing."
Diana stooped, mechanically, and kissed her; then sprang up, quivering,
the color rushing into her cheeks.
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