Diane made no reply. In the ensuing silence she turned to the mantel and, lifting down the vase, began to wipe a little dust from the elaborate design at its mouth. It was quite a long time before she replaced it.
XIII
Diane’s engagement created a stir of pleasure and pride in Mapleton, but very little surprise. It was said on all sides that it had been expected. New York and Washington would find it news, and it might do to cable to London and Paris, where Faunce was already recognized; but Mapleton had been anticipating it for weeks. Of course, both young people were overwhelmed with felicitations. Faunce, flushed with a new kind of pride and a joy that disguised his secret pain, appeared even more winning than usual, while Diane, if her happiness was more subdued, was equally charming.
As soon as Judge Herford’s lumbago relaxed its grip, he gave a little dinner to announce his daughter’s engagement, and it proved a great success. Even Fanny Price, pretty and studiously gay, helped to keep the ball rolling, while Diane, in a simple gown that exactly suited her, had never looked more lovely. No one could blame Faunce for the infatuation that he was at no pains to conceal. Their happiness found a response in nearly every heart, recalling the ancient apothegm that “all the world loves a lover.”
Almost immediately after this occasion, too, there began to be a report that the marriage would take place within a few weeks, for Arthur Faunce, in spite of his recent engagement and Judge Herford’s political dreams, had accepted the command of the new antarctic expedition. He was to succeed not only to Overton’s work, but to Overton’s honors.
If it seemed strange that he should elect to leave his prospective bride so soon, all gossip was silenced by Diane’s own enthusiasm. It was her wish, she said, that Arthur should complete the great task that he had undertaken, and should carry the expedition through to a final triumph. She believed in it. Her soul seemed to rise above fear and doubt, and her beautiful eyes were fixed on the visionary glory of a finished achievement.
It was an open secret that her father had consistently opposed the expedition, and had tried to induce his future son-in-law to enter politics; but Diane had overruled him, people whispered, and it was her inspiration that had fired Faunce to renewed effort. It was an open secret, too, that she was planning to accompany him for at least part of the journey. They would be married just before the ship sailed, and she would go with her husband, sharing his hardships and his dangers as far as a woman could follow in the perilous path of the explorers.
“I can’t bear to let her go,” the irate judge told Dr. Gerry; “but she’s set her heart on it, and I’ve told Arthur that it’s up to him to see that she’s kept out of danger. We can do that without her finding us out until the last moment. When he comes back”—the judge smiled grimly—“then comes my turn—politics and a safe road to fame!”
Dr. Gerry refrained from comment. He was the only one who had not expressed enthusiastic approval. All the other neighbors and old friends seemed to consider it an occasion for great rejoicing, an honor and distinction to Mapleton, since Faunce was already an international character, and was so soon to lead another important expedition.
It remained for the dean, however, to disturb Mrs. Price’s satisfaction in an engagement so poetic and distinguished, as she herself described it.