The artist looked after her. "I wonder if she knows that she belongs to the goddess type of the Golden Age," he said, and sighed. It was just at dusk that Diana stepped once more within the borders of the enchanted forest, and sought the warm little hollow beside the pool. In her filmy gown of midnight blue she moved like a shadow among deeper shadows--her neck and shoulders gleaming white. * * * * * About her were all the eerie noises of the dark, the little, little sounds of little, little things. "Good-bye," Diana whispered, "good-bye--dear forest." The sounds seemed to swell triumphantly into a love song--the weird and wonderful song of the night. From bush and branch call answered call, mate invited mate; all the wild things of the wood were voicing their need, each of the other. So the Beautiful Lady left behind her the sheltered hollow in the wood, and turned her face toward the sea with its beating storms, and she turned with gladness. It was late the next afternoon when she came at last to her home on the harbor. Sophie, warned by a telegram, was waiting for her. "Oh, dearest dear," she said, as they embraced each other in the garden, "you beauty! Why, Diana, you don't look a day over twenty." "I'm so happy, Sophie. Happy women are always young. Oh, I've so much to tell you. Your letter came with all the other letters. How silly we have been! That's the way with half the troubles in life. How easy it would be to be happy if only we could look into the minds of other people." Peter Pan, hearing Diana's voice, came to them, tumultuously, leaping above the nasturtium borders and the brilliant flower beds. Diana picked him up. "Think of it, Peter," she said, in her thrilling voice; "you're going to live up the road with me for all the rest of your life--in Anthony's house, and I am going to live there, too." Sophie gasped. "Oh, has it come to that?" "It has come to everything that means happiness," Diana answered. "Let's go up-stairs, Sophie, where we can talk." As they entered the house Delia came to meet them. Her face lacked its usual beaming welcome. "Oh, my dear," she said, "I'm glad to see you so much better, but it is a sad errand which has brought you." "Sad--what do you mean, Delia?" The two women exchanged glances, and Sophie faltered, "Didn't you get my telegram, Diana?" "Telegram--no, I've heard nothing." "It's Justin. He's dreadfully hurt. His air-ship fell, and Anthony has him at Harbor Light." She sketched the details. "Betty is there. Anthony won't let any one see him. But he thinks Betty should be within call." "Oh, Sophie, is it as bad as that----?" "It is about as bad as it can be, Diana." When they had talked it over, it was decided that Diana should call up Anthony and ask to see Betty at Harbor Light; when she had given the telephone number she found herself shivering with expectation. In a moment she would hear his voice!