"Mind!" said Diana. "I hate everyone in authority, and I love rows and cocktails and excitement. Still, it might save time to pay."
"It might," said the other "but I'm not going to. There were no second-class seats left, so the onus is on them. Besides"—her creamy face flushed faintly and her eyes became defiant—"I can't afford it."
Diana could very well believe it, for she had seldom seen a girl so badly dressed. However, the deep blue eyes that had all sorts of pansy tints lying dormant in them, and the winging black satin hair that looked as if smoke had been blown through it, could not be obscured even by a shabby hat. Diana's own hair being a violent apricot and her eyes of the same colour as a glass of sherry with the sun on it, she could admire without pain this type so different to her own.
The fact was that they were as striking a pair of girls as any one could hope to meet in a day's march, but the delicate beauty of one was under a cloud which only a connoisseur's eye could see through—badly-cut garments and an unfashionable hat! On the other hand, Lady Diana's highly-coloured and slightly dairymaidish prettiness would have been more attractive in simpler and less costly clothes. While they were coming to these conclusions about each other an inspector of tickets entered the carriage. Diana delightedly braced herself for a row, but there was no need for it. Whether it was the charm of the strange girl's golden voice, or the subtle air of luxury and independence combined with a faint odour of Russian leather and honey that stole from the furs of Lady Diana Vernilands, none can tell, but the inspector behaved like a man under the influence of hypnotism. He listened to the tale of the second-class ticket as to words of Holy Writ, and departed like a man in a dream without having uttered a single protest, and at Lady Diana's behest, carefully locking the door behind him. A moment later whistles, shouts, and the clicking of hundreds of farewell kisses signalled the train's immediate departure. The devoted Marney, carrying what appeared to be a bridal bouquet of white lilies and roses, dashed up just in time to make a last attempt to accompany her mistress. But the door was unyielding, and the worst she could do was to claw at the window as she panted alongside the now moving train, crying:
"You'd better let me come with you, now, Miss Diana your Ladyship. . . ."
The latter only waved her hand in kind but firm dismissal.
"Go home and look after papa, Marney, and don't worry about me. I shall be back soon." As the train took a jump and finally fled from the station, leaving Marney far behind, she added thoughtfully, "I don't think!" and burst out laughing.
"Just as though I would hurry back to frowsy old England the first time
I've ever managed to get away from it on my own!"
The other girl looked at her with deep, reflective eyes.
"If you had been on your own as much as I have you wouldn't think it such a catch," she remarked, with a little dry smile.