of their antique beauty with her young taste, a home began to emerge, stamped with a woman’s character and reflecting her enthusiasms.  As she assisted in the task, Mrs. Colwood learned many things.  She gathered that Miss Mallory read two or three languages, that she was passionately fond of French memoirs and the French classics, that her father had taught her Latin and German, and guided every phase of her education.  Traces indeed of his poetic and scholarly temper were visible throughout his daughter’s possessions—­so plainly, that at last as they came nearly to the end of the books, Diana’s gayety once more disappeared.  She moved soberly and dreamily, as though the past returned upon her; and once or twice Mrs. Colwood came upon her standing motionless, her finger in an open book, her eyes wandering absently through the casement windows to the distant wall of hill.  Sometimes, as she bent over the books and packets she would say little things, or quote stories of her father, which seemed to show a pretty wish on her part to make the lady who was now to be her companion understand something of the feelings and memories on which her life was based.  But there was dignity in it all, and, besides, a fundamental awe and reserve.  Mrs. Colwood seemed to see that there were remembrances connected with her father far too poignant to be touched in speech.

At tea-time Captain Roughsedge appeared.  Mrs. Colwood’s first impression of his good manners and good looks was confirmed.  But his conversation could not be said to flow:  and in endeavoring to entertain him the two ladies fought a rather uphill fight.  Then Diana discovered that he belonged to the Sixtieth Rifles, whereupon the young lady disclosed a knowledge of the British Army, and its organization, which struck her visitor as nothing short of astounding.  He listened to her open-mouthed while she rattled on, mainly to fill up the gaps in his own remarks; and when she paused, he bluntly complimented her on her information.  “Oh, that was papa!” said Diana, with a smile and a sigh.  “He taught me all he could about the Army, though he himself had only been a Volunteer.  There was an old History of the British Army I was brought up on.  It was useful when we went to India—­because I knew so much about the regiments we came across.”

This accomplishment of hers proved indeed a god-send; the young man found his tongue; and the visit ended much better than it began.

As he said good-bye, he looked, round the drawing-room in wonderment.

“How you’ve altered it!  The Vavasours made it hideous.  But I’ve only been in this room twice before, though my people have lived here thirty years.  We were never smart enough for Lady Emily.”

He colored as he spoke, and Diana suspected in him a memory of small past humiliations.  Evidently he was sensitive as well as shy.

“Hard work—­dear young man!” she said, with a smile, and a stretch, as the door closed upon him.  “But after all—­’que j’aime le militaire’! Now, shall we go back to work?”