As the bridesmaid sat down rather wearily in her own room, and unfastened the diamond monogram brooch--"the gift of the bridegroom"--the tears that had been in her heart all day came into her eyes; Di's slow, difficult tears. What a mass of illusions are torn from us by the first applauded mercenary marriage that comes very near to us in our youth! Death, when he draws nigh for the first time, at least leaves us our illusions; but this voluntary death in life, from which there is no resurrection, filled Di's soul with loathing compassion. She bowed her fair head on her hands and wept over the girl who had never been her friend, but whose fate might at one time have been her own. CHAPTER VII. "Broad his shoulders are and strong; And his eye is scornful, Threatening and young." EMERSON. There was the usual crush at the Speaker's, the usual sprinkling of stars and orders, and splendid uniforms. If it made Di feel limp to look at other people's diamonds, she would be very limp to-night. Two men with their backs to the wall, somewhat withdrawn from the moving pressure of the crowd, were commenting in the absolute privacy of a large gathering on the stream of arrivals. "Who is that old parchment face and the eyeglass?" asked the younger man, whose bleached eyes and moustache betokened foreign service. "Which?" "Coming in now; looks as if he had seen a thing or two. There--he is talking to one of the Arden twins." "That man? That is Lord Frederick Fane, an old reprobate. See, he has buttonholed Hemsworth. I should like to hear what he is saying to him. Look how his eye twinkles. He is one of our instructors of youth." "Hemsworth has been standing there for the last half-hour." "He is waiting; anybody can see that. So am I, though not for the same person." "Whom are you looking out for?" "Do you see that dark man with the high nose, talking to the Post Office? There--the Duchess of Southark has just spoken to him, and is introducing her daughter." "Do you mean that ugly beggar with the clean-shaved face and heavy jaw?" "I don't see that he is so ugly. He has got a head on his shoulders, and his face means something, which is more than you can say of many. There is no lack of ability there. He is one of the men of the future, and people are beginning to find it out. He has not taken any line in politics yet, but he is bound to soon. Both sides want him, of course. He is one of our most promising Commoners, Tempest of Overleigh." The younger man glanced at the square-shouldered erect figure and strong dark face with deep interest. "Is he the man about whom there was a lawsuit when his father died?" "Yes; Colonel Tempest brought an action, but he lost it. There was no evidence forthcoming, though there was very little doubt how matters really stood." "He is not like the Tempests."