Diana treasured up every word of this.
Presently the old woman, finding her guest was not conversationally inclined, went out again, and Diana was left alone.
The sun set, and darkness began to gather rapidly when she went out, and after going a little way down the street, returned, and sought the side door of Harkaway's house.
She turned the handle softly and entered.
There was no one in the kitchen where she found herself, but the subdued noise of knives and forks in another apartment convinced her that they were at dinner or some other meal.
Diana, as soon as she had ascertained that fact, glided like a spectre up the stairs, and noiselessly examined various bedchambers.
At length she decided on hiding herself in one which seemed better furnished than the others.
"This must be it," she thought.
And she was right.
It was the apartment of Mrs. Harkaway.