“Oh, but indeed he would think it necessary to excuse himself. He has such fine feelings, and he knows all you have been to our darling, Diana. He knows how fond you are of her--taking almost a mother’s interest: and of course he would have been here to show his gratitude, if it had been possible. Every kindness that has ever been shown to my Sophy will be doubly felt by him.” This the little lady said with an expansion of her little person and swelling of her bosom, which, even amid her consciousness that something was in all this more than met the eye, struck Diana with a sense of the ludicrous which she could not control. She laughed in spite of herself. “I am sure Mr. Pandolfini will feel everything he ought to feel,” she said; “but you must not teach him to be grateful when there is no occasion for gratitude. You know it is not a sentiment I care for.” “Yes, I know, dear Diana,” cried Mrs. Norton, kissing her suddenly. “You never will allow any one to thank you. But is it not all owing to you? But for you we never should have come here; and if we had not come here, the chances are we never should have met dear Mr. Pandolfini. So we owe it all to an ever-watchful Providence--and to you.” Diana could not but smile at the conjunction. “It is Providence you must thank,” she said; “I don’t think I counted for much in it. Is Sophy very happy? That is the chief thing to think about.” “She is in a maze of happiness,” said Mrs. Norton, fervently. “She is so humble-minded. She thinks so much more of others than of herself. That he should have thought of a poor little thing like me, she is always saying: and I cannot persuade her that she is good enough for any man, and, indeed, too good for most--as you and I know, Diana--not if I were to talk for a year. We know her value, but she is too innocent to know it. And oh, what a blessing, my dear, what a blessing that one so well fitted to appreciate her should have fallen to Sophy’s share!” “Diana!” cried Mrs. Hunstanton in her ear on the other side, drawing her away; “how can you have the patience to listen to that little---- What is to be done now? Oh! what is to be done? My heart is breaking for that poor man: and it is all Tom’s fault.” “I do not know what you mean,” said Diana. “There is no poor man in question; there is a happy man.” “Diana! how can you insult him by thinking so? Oh, poor Pandolfini! He is being made a sacrifice, a victim--and what can I do? It is all Tom’s fault.” “Indeed, you are doing Mr. Hunstanton wrong. I only blush for myself that ever took up such a foolish fancy. It is far, far better as it is. I told you we had no right to conjecture a man’s feelings; and you see for once I am proved to be right: though you over-persuaded me, and I am ashamed of it,” said Diana, with a blush and a laugh. “However, fortunately there is no harm done.”