So Diana saw them off—­the shabby, handsome man, with his lean, proud, sincere face, and the woman, so frail and white, yet so indomitable.  They carried various bags and parcels, mostly tied up with string, which represented all their luggage; they travelled with the peasants, fraternizing with them where they could; and it was useless, as Diana saw, to press luxuries on either of them.  Many heads turned to look at them, in the streets or on the railway platform.  There was something tragic in their aspect; yet not a trace of abjectness; nothing that asked for pity.  When Diana last caught sight of them, Marion had a contadino’s child on her knee, in the corner of a third-class carriage, and Frobisher opposite—­he spoke a fluent Italian—­was laughing and jesting with the father.  Marion, smiling, waved her hand, and the train bore them away.

* * * * *

The others moved to Perugia, and the hours they spent together in the high and beautiful town were for all of them hours of well-being.  Diana was the centre of the group.  In the eyes of the three men her story invested her with a peculiar and touching interest.  Their knowledge of it, and her silent acceptance of their knowledge, made a bond between her and them which showed itself in a hundred ways.  Neither Ferrier, nor Chide, nor young Forbes could ever do too much for her, or think for her too loyally.  And, on the other hand, it was her inevitable perception of their unspoken thoughts which gave her courage toward them—­a kind of freedom which it is very difficult for women to feel or exercise in the ordinary circumstances of life.  She gave them each—­gratefully—­a bit of her heart, in different ways.

Bobbie had adopted her as elder sister, having none of his own; and by now she knew all about his engagement, his distaste for the Foreign Office, his lack of prospects there, and his determination to change it for some less expensive and more remunerative calling.  But Lady Niton was the dragon in the path.  She had all sorts of ambitious projects for him, none of which, according to Forbes, ever came off, there being always some better fellow to be had.  Diplomacy, in her eyes, was the natural sphere of a young man of parts and family, and as for the money, if he would only show the smallest signs of getting on, she would find it.  But in the service of his country Bobbie showed no signs whatever of “getting on.”  He hinted uncomfortably, in his conversations with Diana, at the long list of his obligations to Lady Niton—­money lent, influence exerted, services of many kinds—­spread over four or five years, ever since, after a chance meeting in a country-house, she had appointed herself his earthly, providence, and he—­an orphan of good family, with a small income and extravagant tastes—­had weakly accepted her bounties.