she said to her own heart. Words she often used since she knew my Lord Baltimore. She took her pen when alone, and wrote thus to the cousin of her love: “_My Kitty_, I have had a blow that leaves me bewildered. I scarce can tell whether I’m alive or dead. As a man falling from his horse picks himself up stunned and bruised and cannot say at first whether ’tis he or another—so am I. ’Tis either death or a cure, and for the life of me I know not which. When my eyes can see you shall hear. But pity me, my Kitty,—I would ask no pity but yours on whose faithful love I have reposed since I was a child. Love me also, for I am solitary. Fie, this soft self-pity—I loathe it. And I am embarked with Kitty Queensbury in an adventure so odd that sure ’tis one of her oddest, and I know not what your sedately married Ladyship would say to it or to me. Farewell, Kitty, for today. My little painted boat is run on the rocks, and I must try to drag her off and set my idle sail again and salve what I can of the wreck. She was called ‘The Hope’ and I know not whether my heart was the cargo or no. Again, when I know, I will be open with you. “I send you my heart’s love—_that_ love at least I can never doubt of. “From your affectionate humble servant and cousin, “Fanny Armine.” CHAPTER XVIII TWAS a se’nnight later and Diana, recovered but pale enough still, sat in the Duchess’s library and tried to read in a book but could not, so pressing was her own history. For, it had been notified to her by her Grace that the long run of “The Beggar’s Opera” was over. With the three leaders changed it struggled on a few nights as on crutches, but a meeting between the patentees of the playhouse and Mr. Gay had decided it should now be laid on the shelf till the next season. So the walls that had echoed so often to her voice were now unfaithful and echoed as blithely to others and the fickle public laughed, applauded and forgot her. ’Twas a wounding thought. However she might dread certain things the playhouse brought her it had been her grand triumph, and re-made her life into a marvel she herself could scarce understand. Wonderful figures, the Duke, her Grace, my Lady Fanny Armine, and many more now walked in her world familiar and kindly. While she lay abed weak and sad, my Lady Fanny visited her, sometimes alone, sometimes with her friend, brought her posies, rare fruits, talked with her softly, surrounded her with delicate cares, until she won Diana’s heart and her languid eyes brightened when she heard the little high-heeled step come tripping to her door.