With an effort Lady Elizabeth turned, "Is the dance over?" she said.
Henry's words followed close: "Have we been gone very long?"
"Oh no—but you see they have stopped bridge, and the men want to talk to you about the Fund. They are all so proud of our extraordinary result. They want a statement published so that they can gloat over the envy of the other regiments.
"Published—a statement!" but Diana, who was bending over some roses, hardly noticed the strained speech, and Lady Elizabeth motioned him to restrain his agitation.
"First, I believe," Diana continued as she seated herself, "there is a committee or somebody to go over the accounts and what do they call it—?"
"Audit them," Henry found himself mechanically saying.
"Yes, that's it. They want to know when it will be convenient to-morrow for you, Henry."
Quite vaguely he said, "Oh yes—for me."
In his work for the Yeomanry and his characteristic British loyalty to his men, Diana found one great virtue to be proud of in Henry. She realized this as she heard the men discussing his efforts. For several days a growing feeling of pity for his misspent life had taken hold of her as she saw what he really could do when he willed.
"You are a great man with the Tenth, Henry," she said. "To hear them talk, one would think you carried the regiment in your pocket. And the dear mother there—to see her listen to your praises! Oh, well, it's very beautiful—you both had better go and glory in some more. The taste for adulation will grow insatiable after this—won't it?" As she spoke she lifted her long, slender hands and fastened them across her brows. Henry came to her. She was very beautiful; an unusual pallor gave her face a delicate spirituality. In the dim light her soft white draperies, the fluttering scarf ends, and the wreath of green leaves made her seem half a sprite.