The baby went off to sleep, and was laid away in its crib, and the mother stood alone at the window wrestling with her pain. She felt helpless in the grasp of it as almost never before. Danger was looming up and threatening dark in the distance; there might be a whirlwind coming out of that storm quarter, and how was she going to stand in the whirlwind? Beyond the wordless cry which meant "Lord help me!"--Diana could hardly pray at all at this moment; and the feeling grew that she must have human help. "Tell Basil"--a whisper said in her heart. She had shunned that thought always; she had judged it no use; now she was driven to it. He must know the whole. Perhaps then he could tell her what to do. As soon as Diana's mind through all its tossings and turnings had fixed upon this point, she went immediately from thought to action. It was twilight now, or almost. Basil would not come home in time for a talk before supper; supper must be ready, so as to have no needless delay. She could wait, now she knew what she would do; though there was a fire burning at heart and brain. She went down-stairs and ordered something to be got ready for supper; finished the arrangement of the tea-table, which her husband liked to have very dainty; picked a rose for his plate, though it seemed dreadful mockery; and as soon as she heard his step at the door she made the tea. What an atmosphere of sweet, calm brightness he brought in with him, and always brought. It struck Diana now with the kind of a shiver which a person in a fever feels at the touch of fresh air. Yet she recognised the beauty of it, and it fortified her in her resolve. She would be true to this man, though she died for it! There was nothing but truth in him. She got through the meal-time as she could; swallowed tea, and even ate bread, without knowing how it tasted, and heard Basil talk without knowing what he said. As soon as she could she went up-stairs to the baby, and waited till her husband should come too. But when he came, he came to her, and did not go to his study. "Basil I want to speak to you--will you come into the other room?" she said huskily. "Won't this room do to talk in?" "No. It is over the kitchen." "Jemima knows I never quarrel"--said Basil lightly; however, he led the way into the study. He set a chair for Diana and took another himself, but she remained standing. "Basil--is God good?" she said. "Yes. Inexpressibly good." "Then why does he let such things happen?" "Sit down, Di. You are not strong enough to talk standing. Such things? What things?" "Why does he let people be tempted above what they can bear?" "He never does--his children--if that is what you mean. He always provides a way of escape." "Where?" "At Christ's feet." "Basil, how can I get there?" she said with a sob.