The waltz tune, with its enticing beat, grew louder and louder, and soon the garden was deserted by all save Sir Charles, who remained there absorbed in his thoughts. Diana, having seen her guests dancing, and fearful that her father might remain too long in the garden, hurriedly returned to him. She stood in the open window and tenderly watched the closely wrapped figure. The moonlight intensified his pallor; it had been an event that he should come to them that night. She saw him smile. "Well, father," she said, "are you having a happy time?" He rose and drew her close to him. "My dear child, I can’t tell you how much this has pleased me. It is a great joy to me to know that my daughter is married to the distinguished head of one of our great families, a man so loved, so honored—a pillar of society, and a bulwark of the empire." Never for a moment had he suspected the misery of Diana’s marriage. Not a quiver of emotion showed on her calm face as she drew her arm into his and said, quietly, "Yes, father." "I haven’t forgotten your opposition to this match," but Charles continued, "although I dare say you have, my dear, and I am naturally pleased that events have vindicated me. Your husband cuts a noble figure in the world, and I am grateful beyond words to see you so happy." As Diana gradually led Sir Charles from his seat to the house, she again answered, "Yes, father." During the past months her life had grown more dreary. If it had not been for Jim—dear Jim—what would she have done? Her fragrant mind had never been disloyal to Henry. Often she had longed to go to her father, but her solicitude for him prevented her from bringing disaster to him. As they reached the door Lady Elizabeth called: "Have you seen Jim, Diana?" Jim had been down in the park doing some service for a sick trooper; Diana explained this to Lady Elizabeth. He had promised to return in time for the dancing. "By-the-way, my dear," Lady Elizabeth began, "if you get an opportunity, I wish you would say a judicious word in praise of Mrs. Hobart Chichester Chichester Jones. Jim, you know, sets such an extraordinary value on your opinion." A quick feeling of dislike filled Diana—why, she could not explain. "What do you wish me to do?" she said. "Praise her American accent or her American money?" Before she had finished the sentence she was ashamed. She really liked Sadie Jones; the sneer had been unworthy. She was about to retract her words when Jim hurriedly came up the garden-walk. As she entered the library with Sir Charles he called: "Don’t forget our waltz, Diana." "I won’t, Jim." Lady Elizabeth sank on to the stone bench. She watched Jim, whose eyes were still following Diana’s receding figure. This was the moment in which she might serve Henry. In the music-room Sadie Jones was singing: "Tout lasse, tout passé—" Jim began humming the tune; he crossed to Lady Elizabeth and lightly put his arm about her as he said: