Diana bent down to her in all meekness. "Not continuously, Mamma," she said. "They will very soon blanch again." "You're coming right home with me after this sad, sad affair, of course," continued Mrs. Wilbur. "How strange that you happened to be in Boston, and fortunate, too. Your father would have liked us to show this attention." By this time they were in Mrs. Wilbur's suite in the hotel, and she turned to Mrs. Lowell. "I am grateful to you for taking care of this child of mine," she said. "I don't like to tell her how well she looks, for it encourages her in such a prank as this island summer." "It has proved a good plan for her, I'm sure," responded Mrs. Lowell. "But enough is enough," said Mrs. Wilbur. "She is rested now and our friends are always asking for her. No more island." "Dear Mamma, do not be so determined, for Mrs. Lowell and I just came here for a few days and I shall have to return and gather my belongings together at least." "Very well, then I will go with you and look at it myself." Mrs. Lowell could with difficulty repress a smile at the way Diana's eyes enlarged with apprehension. "You would not like it, dear, you would not like it," she said earnestly. "Then why do you?" responded her mother defiantly. "Because I like roughing it. I like camping." "Well," sighed Mrs. Wilbur, "I am so near, I may as well look at it." "What would you do in a house without a bathroom?" asked Diana. The blank, incredulous look with which Mrs. Wilbur met her daughter's question made Mrs. Lowell expect her parted lips to utter: "There ain't no such animal." But the lady merely said, reproachfully: "How can you like it there, Diana?" "My ancestors had no bathtubs," replied the girl. "Then, besides, we have the ocean." "Well," sighed Mrs. Wilbur, "the funeral comes first. I suppose Mr. Loring was confined to his room so you couldn't happen to see him about the hotel." Diana cast a glance at Mrs. Lowell before she replied: "I did see him, though, Mamma." The girl felt very certain that the episode could never be finished without this fact transpiring. "You did?" Mrs. Wilbur sat up with great interest. "That explains why you have seemed to me a little sad ever since I came. You saw the poor man. How did it happen?" "I wrote him a note and asked him if I could call. I reminded him that we were related--" She hesitated. "Why, Diana Wilbur, I never heard of anything so extraordinary! You dear lamb, how pleased your father will be! Mrs. Lowell," she turned to that lady, "do you wonder I'm proud of this child? Do you believe that one young girl in a thousand would take the trouble to pay such an attention to an elderly relative whom she had never seen?" Mrs. Lowell was saved from the embarrassment of replying, for Diana spoke hurriedly: "It isn't what you think, Mamma. I went to him on an errand--some one else's errand." Mrs. Wilbur put up her lorgnette the better to view her daughter's crimsoning cheeks and quivering lips.