"If he had not, I should not have gone, Mrs. Flandin," Diana said, and with a smile. "Well now, du tell! what good did salt water do ye? The minister said you was gone to salt water somewheres." "It did me more good than I could ever make you understand." "I don't believe it!" said Mrs. Starling harshly. "You mean, it was a clever thing to play lady and sit with your hands before you all summer. It was good there was somebody at home to do the work." "Not your work, Di," said her husband good humouredly; "nor my work. _I_ did that. Come along and see what I have done." He drew her off, into the little front hall or entry; from there, through a side door into the new part of the building. There was a roomy, cool, bright room, lined with the minister's books; curtained and furnished, not expensively, indeed, yet with a thorough air of comfort. Taking the baby from her arms, Basil led the way from this room, up a short stairway, to chambers above which were charmingly neat, light, and cheerful, all in order; everything was done, everything was there that ought to be there. He laid the sleeping child down in its crib, and turned to his wife with a serious face. "How will you stand it, Diana?" "Basil, I was just thinking, how will you?" "We can do what ought to be done," said he, looking into her face. "I know you can. I think I can too--in this. And I think it is right to take care of mother. I am sure it is." "Diana, by the Lord's help we can do right in everything." "Yes, Basil; I know it!" she said, meeting his eyes with a steady look. He turned away, very grave, but with a deep ejaculation of thankfulness. Diana's eyes filled; but she, too, turned away. She could add no more. It was not words, but living, that must speak for her now. And it did--even that same evening. Mrs. Flandin would not go away; it was too good an opportunity of gathering information about various points on which the "town" had been curious and divided. She kept her place till after supper. But all she could see was a fair, quiet demeanour; an unruffled, beautiful face; and an unconscious dignity of carriage which was somewhat provokingly imposing. She saw that Diana was at home, and likely to be mistress in her own sphere; held in too much honour by her husband, and holding him in too much honour, for that a pin's point of malicious curiosity might find an entering place between them. She reported afterwards that the minister was a fool and his wife another, and so they fitted. Mrs. Starling was inclined to be of the same opinion.