"No. I am never awake at six—I love to be lazy."
"Don't tell that to Dr. Anthony or he'll set you to weaving. You know what I told you; he said that idleness leads to weakness or wickedness——"
"I haven't had time to see what it leads to," Bettina informed him. "I've always been so busy. I'm going to play for a while."
"Will you play with me?" Justin challenged her.
Shining eyes met shining eyes—youth responded to youth.
"It will be glorious," said Bettina, meeting his mood.
They laughed together, the care-free laughter of their golden age. Diana, catching the echo of it, waked from a reverie which had to do with Anthony back there in a big, bare room, contending with skilful and steady hands against the evil forces which sought to destroy; saving a life, giving to a little unknown girl a future of hope and of health.
Every breath that she had drawn since she had left him had been a prayer that his hand might not fail, that his nerves might be like steel—she felt as if her heart were beating with his to uphold him, as if she could bear him on the wings of love and be his talisman against harm.
Yet in front of her was the girl he was to marry, laughing lightly up into the eyes of a boy, unconscious of her lover's need, unconscious of everything except that she was young and free from care—and that the morning world was beautiful!