Carew saw the news in a paper he got at Kimberley, so that when he stepped out upon Johannesburg station, from a difficult, perplexing, somewhat equivocal situation he found himself suddenly and unexpectedly with a clear course.
He had responded to Diana's urgent summons with alacrity, although it left him entirely in the dark as to what had transpired; his action had in fact something of the daring which had led to the sending of the telegram. Wearied out physically and mentally with the struggle, he seized swiftly the chance of a solution the message suggested, and trusting to Diana's resourcefulness let himself go with the tide. It was as though after sixteen years some spirit of the past suddenly re-entered him; some of that old reckless, dare-devil spirit that had distinguished him in his regiment long ago.
Without doubt the news that he would some day inherit the Marquisate of Toxeter, if he outlived the present owner, had worked a wonderful change in him. He still hated Meryl's fortune, when he dared to let himself think of a future they might possibly share, but at least he could now offer her a position that might one day be among the highest in England. And all that it meant to him after his long exile and lonely life, apart from all the friends and delights of his youth, lit a new light in his eyes. And when he saw the paragraph in the paper, and realised Diana had indeed not sent for him for nothing, he seemed to let many years slip from his shoulders. Only a week earlier he had felt middle-aged, and looked every year of his forty-two. The man who strode down the platform on Johannesburg station, drawing all eyes after his upright, distinguished form, looked at the very prime of manhood, and the grey on his temples only enhanced whatever it was that caused those eyes to turn in his direction.
Diana, waiting for his message in no small trepidation, went off at once to the hotel. Nothing was to be gained by hanging back, and she felt more sure of herself generally if she dashed headlong into a delicate situation.
So she walked boldly up to the door of his private sitting-room, gave a little sharp knock, and entered.
He was standing with his back to the door, looking idly from the window, but when he heard the door open he turned round and faced her.
Diana closed the door and walked into the room, glancing about her.
"What a nice den!..." she said. "I'm sure you could only growl prettily here."
He came towards her with outstretched hand, and she was instantly struck with the change in his eyes. The steadiness was still there, the expression of unflinching purpose, but behind it all was that new light now: the light she had never seen in Carew's eyes before.
"You look very well," she told him, warming swiftly to their old friendship and forgetting her moments of trepidation. "You ... really ... you almost look as if you might have come into a kingdom!..."