"Yes." Her head drooped. "But I want Lady Lucy to let me come and stay here--a little."
"No one ought to stay here," he said, abruptly, two spots of feverish color appearing on his cheeks. "Sir James would advise you not. So do I."
She looked up softly.
"Your mother is so tired; she wants help. Won't you let me?"
Their eyes met. His hand trembled violently in hers.
"Why did you come?" he said, suddenly, breathing fast.
She found no words, only tears. She had relinquished his hand, but he stretched it out again and touched her bent head.
"There's no time left," he said, impatiently, "to--to fence in. Look here! I can't stand this pain many minutes more." He moved with a stifled groan. "They'll give me morphia--it's the only thing. But I want you to know. I was engaged to Alicia Drake--after--we broke it off. And I never loved her--not for a moment--and she knew it. Then, as soon as this happened she left us. There was poetic justice, wasn't it? Who can blame her? I don't. I want you to know--what sort of a fellow I am."
Diana had recovered her strength. She raised his hand, and leaned her face upon it.
"Let me stay," she repeated--"let me stay!"