"What did Diana say?" asked David, who was waiting outside the door. "Did she understand?"
"Understand? Did you ever know a time when Diana didn't understand?"
I went. Oh, the joy of setting out towards home! That ridiculously small house in Chelsea in which were centered all my hopes. Some word might be there waiting for me. Nannie might have thought nothing of sufficient importance to forward at such a moment. How I hoped that was it, and that it might be there, else all my hopes were shattered.
I opened the door with my latchkey. I looked. No telegram lay on the table; that I saw at a glance. Then Nannie appeared. She was crying.
"Nannie," I said, "don't cry, she is much better, and is going to get quite well; only I had to come home."
How explain to Nannie that I had left Sara and Diana at such a moment!
"Your bat's crooked," said Nannie.
"You ridiculous old person," I said, "what does that matter?" Nannie sniffed. I put my hat straight. "Is that better?"
"Yes, it's better, it'll do," she answered, not quite satisfied, evidently. I wondered why she asked no questions. Why had I come home to this? No wonder David had been surprised at my leaving Diana! What was the use?
Then Nannie said with a startling suddenness, "Some one is waiting for you upstairs."