"Well, I'm off," she said, flushing. "I dare say you won't want to see _me_ again." Diana came feebly forward, clinging to the chairs. "It wasn't your fault. I must have known--some time." Fanny looked at her uneasily. "Well, of course, that's true. But I dare say I--well I'm no good at beating about the bush, never was! And I was in a temper, too--that was at the bottom of it." Diana made no reply. Her eyes, magnified by exhaustion and pallor, seemed to be keeping a pitiful shrinking watch lest she should be hurt again--past bearing. It was like the shrinking of a child that has been tortured, from its tormentor. "You are going to London?" "Yes. You remember those Devonshire people I went to stay with? One of the girls is up in London with her aunt. I'm going to board with them a bit." "My lawyers will send the thousand pounds to Aunt Merton when they have arranged for it," said Diana, quietly. "Is that what you wish?" A look of relief she could not conceal slipped into Fanny's countenance. "You're going to give it us--after all?" she said, stumbling over the words. "I promised to give it you." Fanny fidgeted, but even her perceptions told her that further thanks would be out of place. "Mother'll write to you, of course. And you'd better send fifty pounds of it to me. I can't go home under three months, and I shall run short." "Very well," said Diana. "Good-bye," said Fanny, coming a little nearer. Then she looked round her, with a first genuine impulse of something like remorse--if the word is not too strong. It was rather, perhaps, a consciousness of having managed her opportunities extremely badly. "I'm sorry you didn't like me." she said, abruptly, "and I didn't mean to be nasty." "Good-bye." Diana held out her hand; yet trembling involuntarily as she did so. Fanny broke out: "Diana, why do you look like that? It's all so long ago--you can't do anything--you ought to try and forget it." "No, I can't do anything," said Diana, withdrawing her right hand from her cousin, and clasping both on her breast. "I can only--" But the word died on her lips; she turned abruptly away, adding, hurriedly, in another tone: "If you ever want anything, you know we're always here--Mrs. Colwood and I. Please give us your address." "Thanks." Fanny retreated; but could not forbear, as she reached the door, from letting loose the thought which burned her inner mind. She turned round deliberately. "Mr. Marsham'll cheer you up, Diana!--you'll see. Of course, he'll behave like a gentleman. It won't make a bit of difference to you. I'll just ask Mrs. Colwood to tell me when it's all fixed up." Diana said nothing. She was hanging over the fire, and her face was hidden. Fanny waited a moment, then opened the door and went. * * * * *