Yet surely in time--in time! That was the inner clamor of the mind, as
he bid her good-bye, after twenty minutes' disjointed talk, in which,
finally, neither dared to go beyond commonplace. Only at the last, as he
held her hand, he asked her:
"I may write to you from Nigeria?"
Rather shyly, she assented; adding, with a smile:
"But I am a bad letter-writer!"
"You are an angel!" he said, hoarsely, lifted her hand, kissed it, and
rushed away.
She was shaken by the scene, and had hardly composed herself again to a
weary grappling with business when the front door bell rang once more,
and the butler appeared.
"Mr. Lavery wishes to know, miss, if you will see him."
The Vicar! Diana's heart sank. Must she? But some deep instinct--some
yearning--interfered, and she bade him be admitted.
Then she stood waiting, dreading some onslaught on the secrets of her
mind and heart--some presumption in the name of religion.
The tall form entered, in the close-buttoned coat, the gaunt oblong of
the face poked forward, between the large protruding ears, the
spectacled eyes blinking.
"May I come in? I will only keep you a few minutes.
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