"Lady Lucy has been ill too?" Diana inquired at last, in the same voice
of constraint.
"Oh, very unwell indeed. A poor, broken thing! And there don't seem to
be anybody to look after them. Mrs. Fotheringham is about as much good
as a broomstick. Every family ought to keep a supply of superfluous
girls. They're like the army--useless in peace and indispensable in war.
Ha! here's Sir James."
Both ladies perceived Sir James, coming briskly up the garden path. As
she saw him a thought struck Diana--a thought which concerned Lady
Niton. It broke down the tension of her look, and there was the gleam of
a smile--sad still, and touching--in the glance she threw at her
companion. She had been asked to tea to meet a couple of guests from
London with whose affairs she was well acquainted; and she too thought
Sir James had been playing Providence.
Sir James, evidently conscious, saw the raillery in her face, pinched
her fingers as she gave him her hand, and Diana, passing him, escaped to
the garden, very certain that she should find the couple in question
somewhere among its shades.
Lady Niton examined Sir James--looked after Diana.
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