They talked a little together, and Leonora found it easy to lead the conversation to the plans she was making for the amusement of her sister-in-law.
"By the bye," said she, "I ought to tell you. Mr. Julius Batiscombe is staying here this week. I suppose you know him?"
Leonora had no idea of anything having existed in former times in the way of sentiment between Diana and Julius. She was sent to convey a piece of information, and she did it as well as she could, not even looking at Diana as she spoke. Had she suspected anything she would have watched her, and she could have seen the least possible trembling of the eyelids, and the lightest imaginable shade of annoyance on her guest's fair face.
"Oh yes," she said calmly, "I know him. I have known him a long time. So he is staying with you?"
"Yes. He is so very agreeable, and Marcantonio wished it. He has been in Sorrento some time, and he took us to Castellamare to see that ironclad launched. He is so very clever."
"Because he took you in his boat?" laughed Diana. "Yes, my dear, a man is clever indeed who can get such charming company."
Leonora was pleased with the little speech,—it sounded kindly, and as Diana spoke she laid her hand softly on Leonora's.
"How cold your hands are," said Diana. And indeed they were chilled through, though it was a very hot day in July. "'Cold hands, warm heart,' you know, as the proverb says."
Leonora blushed a little. It seemed so odd to be talking about Julius Batiscombe to a stranger that it frightened her a little, and she was conscious that her heart beat faster. Nevertheless she wondered vaguely why she felt the blood rise to her cheek. He was only her friend, and the remark about the heart could have nothing to do with him.
But Diana supposed she changed colour because she was thinking of Marcantonio. It was natural for a young bride to blush at the mention of her heart, of course, and altogether charming. She patted the cold little hand sympathetically and talked of something else. It is so easy to misunderstand a blush. But Leonora felt as though she were being patronised, which is the thing people of her stamp most bitterly resent of all others; and accordingly there sprang up in her breast a little breeze of opposition, which might by and by blow a gale.