She crossed the room to where Mrs. Eveleth appeared on the threshold, and, taking her by the hand, led her to the chair which Pruyn placed for her.
"I'd better go, Diane dear," Miss Lucilla whispered, tremblingly.
"Please don't," Diane insisted. "I'd much rather have you stay. I've no secrets from Miss Lucilla," she added, speaking to Derek. "I need a woman friend; and I've found one."
"You couldn't find a better," Pruyn murmured, while Miss Lucilla slipped her arm around Diane's waist, rather to steady herself than to support her friend.
"Miss Lucilla knows everything that you know, petite mère," Diane continued, turning to where her mother-in-law sat, slightly bowed, her extended hand resting on her cane, like some graceful Sibyl. "She knows everything that you know, and she knows one thing more. She knows what some cruel people say was the way in which—George died."
Diane uttered the last two words in a kind of sob, and Mrs. Eveleth looked up, startled.
"George—died?" she questioned, slowly, with a look of wonder.
Diane nodded, unable, for the minute, to speak.
"But we know how—he died."
"Mr. Pruyn tells me that we don't."