She was still looking straight before her, but her lip trembled.
Diana bent forward impetuously.
"Fanny!" she said, laying her hand on her cousin's, "do go home!"
Fanny's lip continued to tremble.
"I tell you I'm engaged," she repeated, in a muffled voice.
"Don't marry him!" cried Diana, imploringly. "He's not--he's not a good man."
"What do you know about it? He's well enough, though I dare say he's not your sort. He'd be all right if somebody would just lend a hand--help him with the debts, and put him on his feet again. He suits me, anyway. I'm not so thin-skinned."
Diana stiffened. Fanny's manner--as of old--was almost incredible, considered as the manner of one in difficulties asking for help. The sneering insolence of it inevitably provoked the person addressed.
"Have you told Aunt Bertha?" she said, coldly--"asked her consent?"
"Mother? Oh, I've told her I'm engaged. She knows very well that I manage my own business."