"My lawyers will send the thousand pounds to Aunt Merton when they have arranged for it," said Diana, quietly. "Is that what you wish?"
A look of relief she could not conceal slipped into Fanny's countenance.
"You're going to give it us--after all?" she said, stumbling over the words.
"I promised to give it you."
Fanny fidgeted, but even her perceptions told her that further thanks would be out of place.
"Mother'll write to you, of course. And you'd better send fifty pounds of it to me. I can't go home under three months, and I shall run short."
"Very well," said Diana.
"Good-bye," said Fanny, coming a little nearer. Then she looked round her, with a first genuine impulse of something like remorse--if the word is not too strong. It was rather, perhaps, a consciousness of having managed her opportunities extremely badly. "I'm sorry you didn't like me." she said, abruptly, "and I didn't mean to be nasty."
"Good-bye." Diana held out her hand; yet trembling involuntarily as she did so. Fanny broke out:
"Diana, why do you look like that? It's all so long ago--you can't do anything--you ought to try and forget it."