Diana mounted the stairs. Every line of carving on the dark oak balustrades was dear and was familiar. The clear wintry sun shone through stained glass windows on the first landing, representing Rivers knights, in silver armour, leaning on their shields. One of these, with a red cross upon his breast, his plumed helmet held in his arm, his close-cropped dark head rising firm and strong above his corselet, was not unlike David Rivers. "Ah," said Diana, "if he had but cared a little! Not enough to make him troublesome; but just enough to make him glad to do this thing for me." CHAPTER XIII DAVID'S DECISION Diana found it quite impossible to await in the library, the return of the motor. She moved restlessly to and fro in her own bedroom, from the windows of which she could see far down the avenue. When at last her car came speeding through the trees, it seemed to her a swiftly approaching Nemesis, a relentless hurrying Fate, which she could neither delay nor avoid. It ran beneath the portico; paused for one moment; then glided away towards the garage. She had not seen David alight; but she knew he must now be in the house. She waited a few moments, then passed slowly down the stairs. Oh, lovely and belovèd home of childhood's days! * * * * * White and cold, yet striving bravely after complete self-control, Diana crossed the hall, and turned the handle of the library door. As she entered, David was standing with his back to her, looking up intently at the portrait of Falcon Rivers. He turned as he heard the door close, and came forward, a casual remark upon his lips, expressing the hope that it had not been inconvenient to send the motor so early--then saw Diana's face. Instantly he took her trembling hands in his, saying gently: "It is all right, Miss Rivers. I can do as you wish. I am quite clear about it, to-day. You must forgive me for not having been able to decide yesterday." Diana drew away her hands and clasped them upon her breast. Her eyes dilated. "David? Oh, David! You will? You will! You will----!" Her voice broke. She gazed at him, helplessly--dumbly. David's eyes, as he looked back into hers, were so calmly tender, that it somehow gave her the feeling of being a little child. His voice was very steadfast and unfaltering. He smiled reassuringly at Diana. "I hope to have the honour and privilege, Miss Rivers," he said, "of marrying you on the morning of the day I sail for Central Africa." Diana swayed, for one second; then recovered, and walked over to the mantel-piece. Not for nothing was she a descendant of those old knights in silver armour, in the window on the staircase. She leaned her arms upon the mantel-piece, and laid her head upon them. She stood thus quite still, and quite silent, fighting for self-control.