"How could you do it, Diana? how could you do it, after your heart was mine? _while_ your heart was mine!" "I was dead," she said in the same low, slow, impressive way. "I thought I was dead,--and that it did not matter any more what I did, one way or another. I thought I was dead; and when I found out that there was life in me yet, it was too late." A slight shudder ran over her shoulders, which Evan, however, did not see. "And you doubted me!" said he. "I heard nothing"-- "Of course!--and that was enough to make you think I was nothing but a featherhead!"-- "I thought I was not good enough for you," she said softly. "Not good enough!" cried Evan. "When you are just a pearl of perfection--a diamond of loveliness--more than all I knew you would be--like a queen rather than like a common mortal. And I could have given you a place fit for you; and here you are"-- "Hush!" she said softly, but it stopped him. "_Why_ did you never hear from me? I wrote, and wrote, and O, Diana, how I looked for something from you! I walked miles on the way to meet the waggon that brought our mails; I could hardly do my duty, or eat, or sleep, at last. I would ride then to meet the post-carrier, though it did not help me, for I could not open the bags till they were brought into the post; and then I used to go and gallop thirty miles to ride away from myself. _Why_ did you never write one word?" "I did not know your address," she said faintly. "I gave it you, over and over." "You forget,--I never got the letters." "What became of them?" "I don't know." "What was her motive?" "I suppose--I don't know." "What do you suppose?" "What is the use of talking about it, Evan?" "My poor darling!" said he, looking up in her face again "it has been hard on you too. Oh Di, my Di! I cannot lose you!"-- He was still kneeling before her, and she put her two hands on his head, smoothing or rather pushing back the short locks from his temples on either side, looking as one looks one's last on what one loves. Her eyes were dry, and large with pain which did not allow the eyelids their usual droop; her mouth was in the saddest lines a woman's lips can take, but they did not tremble. "Hush," she said again softly. "I am lost to you. That is over. Now go and do a man's work in the world, and if I hear of you, let me hear good." "Haven't you got one kiss for me?" She bent lower down, and kissed his brow. She kissed it twice; but the manner of the woman was of such high and pure dignity that the young officer, who would else have had no scruple, did not dare presume upon it. He took no more than she gave; bent his head again when she took her hands away, and covered his face, as at first. They were both still awhile. "Evan--you must go," she whispered. "When may I come again?" She did not answer.