Lady Lucy, looking at her, and evidently but
half conscious--at first--of what was said, suddenly colored, and
refused--courteously but decidedly.
"Thank you. I want nothing. I shall soon be home. Oliver!"
"I go to Lytchett with Sir James, mother. Miss Mallory begs that you
will let Mrs. Colwood take you home."
"It is very kind, but I prefer to go alone. Is my carriage there?"
She spoke like the stately shadow of her normal self. The carriage was
waiting. Lady Lucy approached Sir James, who was standing apart, and
murmured something in his ear, to the effect that she would come to
Lytchett that evening, and would bring flowers. "Let mine be the first,"
she said, inaudibly to the rest. Sir James assented. Such observances,
he supposed, count for a great deal with women; especially with those
who are conscious of having trifled a little with the weightier matters
of the law.
Then Lady Lucy took her leave; Marsham saw her to her carriage. The two
left behind watched the receding figures--the mother, bent and
tottering, clinging to her son.
"She is terribly shaken," said Sir James; "but she will never give way."
Diana did not reply, and as he glanced at her, he saw that she was
struggling for self-control, her eyes on the ground.
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