A servant was sent into Dunscombe, five miles off; and
meanwhile Ferrier bore the blunder with equanimity. His letters of the
morning, fresh from the heart of things, made newspapers a mere
superfluity. They could tell him nothing that he did not know already.
And as for opinions, those might wait.
He proposed, indeed, before the return of the servant from Dunscombe, to
walk over to Beechcote. The road lay through woods, two miles of shade.
He pined for exercise; Diana and her young sympathy acted as a magnet
both on him and on Sir James; and it was to be presumed she took a daily
paper, being, as Ferrier recalled, "a terrible little Tory."
In less than an hour they were at Beechcote. They found Diana and Mrs.
Colwood on the lawn of the old house, reading and working in the shade
of a yew hedge planted by that Topham Beauclerk who was a friend of
Johnson. The scent of roses and limes; the hum of bees; the beauty of
slow-sailing clouds, and of the shadows they flung on the mellowed
color of the house; combined with the figure of Diana in white, her
eager eyes, her smile, and her unquenchable interest in all that
concerned the two friends, of whose devotion to her she was so
gratefully and simply proud--these things put the last touch to
Ferrier's enjoyment.
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