The Hotel del las Casas was a triumph.
Diantha owned it now, and Mrs. Weatherstone built others, in other places, at a large profit.
Mrs. Warden went to live with Cora in the town. Cora had more time to entertain her—as she was the one who profited by her sister-in-law's general services.
Diantha sat in friendly talk with Mrs. Weatherstone one quiet day, and admitted that she had no cause for complaint.
“And yet—?” said her friend.
Young Mrs. Warden smiled. “There's no keeping anything from you, is there? Yes—you're right. I'm not quite satisfied. I suppose I ought not to care—but you see, I love him so! I want him to approve of me!—not just put up with it, and bear it! I want him to feel with me—to care. It is awful to know that all this big life of mine is just a mistake to him—that he condemns it in his heart.”
“But you knew this from the beginning, my dear, didn't you?”
“Yes—I knew it—but it is different now. You know when you are married—”
Mrs. Weatherstone looked far away through the wide window. “I do know,” she said.
Diantha reached a strong hand to clasp her friend's. “I wish I could give it to you,” she said. “You have done so much for me! So much! You have poured out your money like water!”