It came to Anthony, with the force of a blow, that there was no room in the big house for Bettina. Why, that room was Diana's--that room which looked out on Minot's. He had thought of her as inhabiting it. He had never meant that the great light should say, "I love you," to Bettina. For months, even when he felt that he had lost Diana, her spirit had seemed to dwell in the place he had planned for her. Whenever he had entered her room it had not seemed bare, for his imagination had filled it with the furniture which had been his grandmother's wedding set--the big canopied bed, the winged chair on the hearth, the quaint lyre-legged sewing table by the window. And on the other side of the hearth would be another chair--his own. And in that room he had seen Diana, his bride, in the moonlight; his wife, waiting in the winged chair to welcome him after a weary day. And now this pretty child--and Diana banished? What had he done? What dreadful thing had he done? Bettina, unconscious, said pleasant things about the living-room, the library, the great hall, the broad stairway-- As yet there was no connection for lighting, so they carried candles, Anthony holding one aloft for himself and Bettina, and Delia coming after with a taper. Peter, like a flash of flame, slipped ahead of Delia and was lost in the shadows. They went into every room on the second floor before they entered the one which faced Minot's. To him it was the Holy of Holies, but Bettina stepped in boldly. It was a great high-ceiled chamber with its distant corners made darker by the moonlight. Through the wide window which faced the south was a vast expanse of sky and sea. Anthony's house stood near the end of the harbor, so that across the causeway was the open water, a stretch of limitless blue. Bettina shivered. "It's so big and dark." "When it's furnished and the lights are on it will seem different." Delia, arriving at that moment, added her contribution to the conversation. "Miss Diana came over yesterday. Them's her white lilacs on the shelf." The doctor held his candle higher. The flowers, in a great bowl of gray pottery, showed ghostly outlines beneath the flickering flame. To Anthony the air seemed thick and faint with their perfume. "Let us go," he said to Bettina, quickly, and with his hand on her arm he led her away and shut the door. Diana and Sophie, coming home at half-past ten, found the lovers on the porch, and the four talked together until Anthony said "Good-bye." He made a professional call in a side street and found himself, afterward, turning toward the big empty house on the rocks. In that south room Diana's lilacs were wasting their sweetness, and he coveted the subtle suggestion they gave of her presence there. * * * * * Diana, helping Delia to lock up, asked, "Where's Peter?" "Goodness knows," said Delia; "he followed me when we went over to the doctor's house, and I ain't seen him since."