The dark flush that swept into his face made it clear to Lucilla that his question was not put for purposes of information. She had remarked in Derek during the past few weeks a manner of fighting shy of Diane at variance with his usual method with women. Safety in flight was the course he commonly adopted; but since Diane appeared on the scene, Lucilla had noticed that it was flight with a curious tendency to looking backward.
"I said Diane Eveleth," she replied, in tactful answer to his superfluous question; "and I assure you she's fully equal to the duties you would require of her. I suppose you've never noticed her especially—?"
"I used to know her a little," he said, in an offhand manner. "I've seen her here. That's all."
"If a woman could have been made on purpose for what you want, it's she."
"Dear me! You don't say so!"
"It's no use trying to be sarcastic about it, Derek. She's not the one to suffer by it; it's Dorothea. Though, when it comes to suffering, she has her share, poor thing."
"I suppose no decent woman who has just lost her husband is expected to be absolutely hilarious over the event."
"She hasn't just lost him; it's getting on toward a year. And, besides, it isn't only that. As a matter of fact, I don't believe she ever loved him as she could love the man to whom she gave her heart. If grief was her only trouble, I am sure the poor thing could bear it."
"And can't she bear it as it is?"
"The fact that she does bear it shows that she can; but it must be hard for a woman, who has lived as she has, to be brought to want."