"Yes. I had no notion you would be here--this week-end."
"Nor had I--till last night. Then an appointment broken down--and--me voici!"
"You stay over to-morrow?"
"Of course! But it is absurd that the Feltons should be five miles away!"
She stammered:
"It is a charming ride."
"But too long!--One does not want to lose time."
She was now sitting; and he beside her. Mechanically she had taken up some embroidery--to shield her eyes. He examined the reds and blues of the pattern, the white fingers, the bending cheek. Suddenly, like Sir James Chide or Hugh Roughsedge, he was struck with a sense of change. The Dian look which matched her name, the proud gayety and frankness of it, were somehow muffled and softened. And altogether her aspect was a little frail and weary. The perception brought with it an appeal to the protective strength of the man. What were her cares? Trifling, womanish things! He would make her confess them; and then conjure them away!
"You have your cousin with you?"
"Yes."