"Yes, and in you, I hope?"
"Certainly. At your service. A big responsibility awaits that youngster. Let us hope he will grow up to be as clean-cut and simply honest as young Barrison."
"You do like him, don't you?" said Mrs. Lowell with her direct look.
"Very much, so far. I don't know how he may carry sail in the prosperity before him, but so far he seems to be all to the good."
The small boat was summoned for the guest. Bill Lindsay had gone off in the dory that brought him. Diana went alone with her friend to the head of the awninged stairway.
Mrs. Lowell saw the marks of distress in the young face, and she held the girl's hand for a minute. "God bless you," she said, and kissed her lovingly. "Trust Him, my dear," she added meaningly. "He is taking care of you. Claim it and know it. Good-bye."
Diana watched the boat glide toward the shore. "This awful day is nearly over," she thought. "I feel as if my good angel was going away in that boat."
Mrs. Wilbur did not arise for dinner. Diana and her father ate it alone in state. Keen to do her duty and grateful to him for his attitude toward the man whom she must henceforth forget, she had dressed herself in her prettiest gown. At twenty, pensive eyes with shadows about them are not unbecoming, and her father looked across at her admiringly.
"The Count de No-Account or some other titles, should be here to-night, my dear. The moon-goddess is too lovely to beam upon no one more thrilling than her humdrum old daddy."
"As if any one could come up to him," rejoined Diana affectionately. "You remind me of the way Mamma was talking this afternoon, of all the possibilities money opens to a girl, abroad and at home. She did not stop to think what a standard she had set up by marrying you."