“He laughed!” Mrs. Norton wavered between relief and offence. Then she shook her head. “I have no confidence in country doctors. He would not have laughed if--if he had any real experience--if--if he knew----” “Do not cry,” said Diana. “Pray, pray do not cry. I have come to propose something to you. I want you to go to Italy with the Hunstantons.” Mrs. Norton gave a little shriek. “To Italy! Oh, Diana!” Then she stopped in the first impulse of joy. “You are deceiving me,” she said, trembling. “You think it a great deal more serious than you say.” “I think you are the silliest little woman! and if you make me out to have a hundred meanings I never thought of, I will not speak to you any more. Ask the doctor. Ask a dozen doctors if you please. But look here--if you are proud and hoity-toity, why, then, there must be a general dissolution and breaking up of friendship; and you know, Mrs. Norton, it is a dreadful thing to break off with and alienate a true friend.” “I do, I do! Oh, how could you ever think it of me, Diana? and why do you speak to me so formally? If we were to go away to-morrow and never to come back again, do you think that would make me less grateful to you? And me hoity-toity! was I ever?--could I ever be?--does any one think it possible?” “Do you know what that is?” said Diana. “I found it in my desk to-day.” Mrs. Norton looked at the paper through her tears. She knew very well what it was. Though she was not rich, she prided herself on having travelled abroad in her time, and knowing all about such matters. It was a banker’s letter recommending herself to the correspondents of the firm--one of those documents which make the traveller’s path easy, and are of more use than any passport--as long as they hold out. “Now,” said Diana, with a threatening aspect, “if you make any objections or say anything disagreeable, I am your landlady, and I shall evict you. If you refuse to go I shall take your roof off. I shall turn out all your furniture; and anybody who pleases may take your china. There! the power of threatening can no further go. And now I must hurry home, for I have a great deal to do to-day. Give me some of Sophy’s mignonette. Tell her she is a little goose, and that young Mr. Snodgrass prefers pink to blue; and if you were not very inexorable and unkind, his poor uncle--but of course if you will not listen to him, what does it matter what I say? Sophy, good-bye--I have no time to stay.” “But, Diana, Diana!” said Mrs. Norton, breathless, with the letter in her hand, rushing to the door after the hasty visitor. “I have not another moment--there are people waiting: good-bye till the evening,” cried Diana, half-way across the lawn, with her blue gown over her arm.