"Come, my dear Diana, dry your tears, do not trouble yourself so; only tell me your feelings during the last few days."
"Alas! my kind mother," the girl replied, smiling through her tears, "I understand nothing myself, and suffer without knowing why; I am restless, languid; everything disgusts and wearies me, and yet I fancy there has been no change in my life."
"You are mistaken, child," Mrs. Black answered, gravely, "your heart has spoken without your knowledge; thus, instead of the careless, laughing girl you were, you have become a woman, you have thought, your forehead has turned pale, and you suffer."
"Alas!" Diana murmured.
"Come, how long have you been so sad?"
"I know not, mother."
"Think again."
"I fancy it is—."
Mrs. Black, understanding her daughter's hesitation, finished the sentence for her.
"Since the day after our arrival here, is it not?"