"Yes, they are mine," said Diana gravely. "Even this pond of a cove with the green banks and woods rising all about it. This is a picture that I love, too."
"Bert was quite troubled because he thought you seemed sad at leaving."
"Good little sympathetic fellow," said Diana. "I don't want to believe, Mrs. Lowell, that this is good-bye for us."
"I hope it is not. New York and Philadelphia are not far apart, but you will begin to be absorbed in other interests as soon as this yacht leaves the cove."
Diana shook her head. "My memory is not so short."
Mrs. Lowell looked at her with thoughtful affection. "I hope they won't spoil you, my dear," she said wistfully. "It is very remarkable that you have come along so far with 'a heart at leisure from itself.'"
"Oh, do you think I have that?" returned Diana, looking up with seeking eyes.
"I do, my dear. The key note of happy usefulness is unselfishness. I have been surprised by your unselfishness, Diana—under circumstances that usually make for the other thing."
"But, Mrs. Lowell, I am frightfully selfish!" exclaimed the girl. "You don't know!"
Her friend smiled. "Well, if you see it, that is half the battle. The other half is putting it down—destroying it."