Something in the tense, pathetic face forced back Diana’s words of opposition. Perhaps she was wrong, There was no tangible reason for this rebellion that her perplexed mind could grasp. Her father, so gentle, so wise, so loving, could not be doubted. Sir Charles watched her eagerly. He loved her, but in his short-sighted desire for her happiness he failed to see the depths of her troubled heart. Almost convinced that her frightened instinct was wrong, Diana rose, and, with a gentle pressure of her father’s hand, yielded to his importunities. Tactfully, and in silence, Sir Charles accepted her consent. A strained pause followed. Sir Charles reflectively sank into the cushions of his high-backed chair. He was sure that Diana’s outburst was mere nervousness; it was often so with young, inexperienced girls before marriage. The excitement of the London life was a great fatigue to him. Even the muffled, vibrating roar that half penetrated into the dwellings of Mayfair, told on his sensitive nature. He closed his eyes. Diana’s girlhood had been singularly isolated from the world. Shortly after Jim’s departure for India, she had been sent abroad to a school on the Continent. She had usually spent the summers with her father at some peaceful, out of the way corner. Her education completed, she had returned during the April previous, to the quiet life of her father’s home. There followed the lonely weeks with her awakening womanhood crying out for comprehension. Then one day Henry Wynnegate returned to the Towers. She had only a vague memory of the subsequent days of amusement that passed so quickly. All that her youth and gayety had so long desired was given her. She was unconsciously swept on by the passion of Henry’s love and could hardly recall when she promised to be his wife. That was in the autumn. At the beginning of the season she was presented at court. Her youth and beauty made a sensation, and her marriage was arranged to take place within a month. Eager to grasp the bloom of the fresh flower he had plucked, Henry would tolerate no delay. Backed by the dominant influence of his mother, who in Diana saw not only the gratification of Henry’s desires, but a gracious bearer of his name, and, with the persuasion of Sir Charles, Diana acquiesced to an early marriage. She was in love with love, not with the man, and her loveliness and the purity of her fresh young soul made her idealize the best of Henry’s shifting, many-sided nature. Sir Charles dozed peacefully. Diana, with feverish cheeks and burning eyes, longed to escape from the warm room. Through the closed windows she could see that the rain had ceased. She wanted to be alone, to calm the battling emotions of the past hour. As she tiptoed to the door, it was thrown open, and the Countess of Kerhill and Lady Mabel Wynnegate were announced. Sir Charles aroused, rose quickly from his chair to greet the visitors.