"I suppose he did not go either?"
"N—no, he didn't."
"That would have been awkward if you had not intended to accept him."
Madeleine looked into the fire.
"It was a very painful time," she went on, after a pause. "And it was so embarrassing at luncheon—only him and me, and that old General Hanbury. Every one else had gone."
"Even your mother?"
"Yes; she was the chaperone of the party, as Mrs. Mildmay had a headache. But I did not want her to stay. She did not know till it was all settled. I could not have talked about it to her; mamma and I feel so differently. You know she always remembers how much she cared for poor papa. I was dreadfully perplexed what I ought to do, but"—in a lowered voice—"I took it where I take all my troubles, Di. I prayed over it; I laid it all before——"
Madeleine stopped short as Di suddenly hid her face in her hands. The white nape of her neck was crimson.
"And then?" she asked, after a moment's silence, with her face still hidden.
"Then it all seemed to become clear," murmured Madeleine, gratified by Di's evident envy. "And I saw it was meant. You know, Di, I believe those things are decided for one. And I felt quite peaceful, and I went out for a little bit in the garden, and the sun was setting—I always care so much for sunsets, they mean so much to me, and it was all so beautiful and calm; and—I suppose he had seen me go out—and——"