“Oh, Diana, here I am back again a poor old lonely woman. And--I could not be in England without first coming to see you; and I feel as if I had nobody but you----” “What is the matter?” cried Diana, in alarm. “Sophy----?” “Oh, Sophy is very well; indeed there is nothing the matter. I--I got homesick I suppose. I--wanted my own country. She has her baby now, Diana, she has her friends: she is fond of her own way: and--oh, she does not want me any more!” “Well,” said Diana, cheerfully, “and so you have come home? How sensible that was!--the very wisest and best thing you could do.” “Oh, do you think so, Diana?” The little lady brightened under these words of commendation. “But I have no right to presume upon coming _home_ after all this long time,” she said, wistfully. “And I know, dear, it was Sophy you cared for. How could it be me? I was always g-glad to think that it was S-Sophy that was cared for. But now she has her baby, Diana, and I am only a trouble to her. She does not want me. Oh, Diana, she would not be so frivolous if he did not leave her so much! No, no, I am not blaming him; he was always kind, you know, but he did not understand us,--he never made a companion of her. And now she has so many friends, and talks Italian like a native (she always was clever at languages), and they chatter and chatter, and I do not understand a word, and then she calls me cross. _Me_ cross, Diana! And such strange ways with the baby, as if I knew nothing about babies. She even told me so, that I never had one, and how could I know? And so strange altogether--a strange man, and a strange house, and no pleasant fires, and such strange food! Oh, my dear, what could I do? He was very kind, and asked me to stay, but she--she!--never asked me. She didn’t w-want me--oh, Diana! I think it will b-break my h-heart!” “Hush! here is Jervis,” said Diana. Mrs. Norton stopped short in the midst of her sob. She gave herself a rapid shake, raised her shoulders, cut short the heave of her little bosom. No other check could have told so effectually. It is one thing to break your heart, but to give way before the servants is quite another thing. She was not capable of such a breakdown. What Jervis saw when he came in was a little figure very erect upon the sofa, with shoulders squared and bonnet straightened, and a smile upon her face. “Oh yes, Diana, the Countess is quite well, and the baby is a darling,” said the deceitful little woman. She did not think it was deceitfulness, but only a proper pride.