By the time Diana finished reading this letter, her hands were trembling.
She hurried to Mrs. Lowell's room. A rather stifled voice bade her enter. Her friend was stooping over the washstand bathing her eyes. Her face, as she looked up through the splashing, showed an April smile.
"I knew it was you," she said. "I recognized the step, and I knew you wouldn't mind discovering that I cry once in a while."
"My dear Mrs. Lowell, I'm sorry for whatever distresses you."
"Oh, it is just that dear talented, wretched boy. I couldn't help weeping a few little weeps; but what happy thing has happened to you, my dear?" she added, catching the excitement in the girl's face. She dried her own finally, and came forward and Diana put the letter into her hands.
They both stood in silence until Mrs. Lowell had finished reading and looked up. Her cheeks were as flushed as Diana's, and they exchanged a radiant gaze and then sat down.
"One always weeps too soon," said Mrs. Lowell at last.
"I was thinking," said Diana, looking off, "that it might be a good plan for me to go to Mr. Loring myself."
"You good girl! Do you know him?"
"Not at all, but any one can go to the Copley-Plaza, and I can tell him I am his cousin."