"Lady Lucy has been ill too?" Diana inquired at last, in the same voice of constraint.
"Oh, very unwell indeed. A poor, broken thing! And there don't seem to be anybody to look after them. Mrs. Fotheringham is about as much good as a broomstick. Every family ought to keep a supply of superfluous girls. They're like the army--useless in peace and indispensable in war. Ha! here's Sir James."
Both ladies perceived Sir James, coming briskly up the garden path. As she saw him a thought struck Diana--a thought which concerned Lady Niton. It broke down the tension of her look, and there was the gleam of a smile--sad still, and touching--in the glance she threw at her companion. She had been asked to tea to meet a couple of guests from London with whose affairs she was well acquainted; and she too thought Sir James had been playing Providence.
Sir James, evidently conscious, saw the raillery in her face, pinched her fingers as she gave him her hand, and Diana, passing him, escaped to the garden, very certain that she should find the couple in question somewhere among its shades.
Lady Niton examined Sir James--looked after Diana.
"Look here!" she said, abruptly; "what's up? You two understand something I don't. Out with it!"
Sir James, who could always blush like a girl, blushed.
"I vow that I am as innocent as a babe unborn!"
"What of?" The tone of the demand was like that of a sword in the drawing.
"I have some guests here to-day."