"What does she mean by that?" said Diana, a little startled.
"I don't know! Aunt Sutphen has her own notions respecting behaviour. I did not inquire, Diana; knowing that, whatever her meaning might be, it was the same thing so far as you are concerned."
"Basil—you are very good!" Diana said after a pause and with a trembling lip.
"I can take compliments from Aunt Sutphen," he said with a bit of his old dry humorous manner, "but from you I don't know what to do with them. Come to supper, Di; we must take the first boat for Clifton to-morrow morning, if we can, to let me get back on my way to Pleasant Valley."
The first boat was very early. The city, however, had long begun its accustomed roar, so that the change was noticeable and pleasant as soon as the breadth of a few furlongs was put between the boat and the wharf. Stillness fell, only excepting the noise made by the dash of the paddle-wheels and the breathing and groaning of the engine; and that seemed quietness to Diana, in contrast with the restless hum and roar of the living multitude. The bay and its shores sparkled in the early sunlight; the sultry, heated atmosphere of the city was most refreshingly replaced by the cool air from the salt sea. Diana breathed it in, filling her lungs with it.
"How good this is!" she said. "Basil, I should think it was dreadful to live in such a place as that."
"Makes less difference than you would think, when you once get accustomed to it."
"O, do you think so! It seems to me there is nothing pleasant there to see or to hear."
"Ay, you are a true wood-thrush," said her husband. "But there is plenty to do in a city, Diana; and that is the main thing."
"So there is in the country."