She had omitted to think that she was dealing with a lover a man of smothered fire, who would be electrically alive to the act through a coat-sleeve.  Redworth had his impulse.  He kept it under,—­she felt the big breath he drew in.  Imagination began busily building a nest for him, and enthusiasm was not sluggish to make a home of it.  The impulse of each had wedded; in expression and repression; her sensibility told her of the stronger.

She rose on the morning of her marriage day with his favourite Planxty Kelly at her lips, a natural bubble of the notes.  Emma drove down to the cottage to breakfast and superintend her bride’s adornment, as to which, Diana had spoken slightingly; as well as of the ceremony, and the institution, and this life itself:—­she would be married out of her cottage, a widow, a cottager, a woman under a cloud; yes, a sober person taking at last a right practical step, to please her two best friends.  The change was marked.  She wished to hide it, wished to confide it.  Emma was asked:  ‘How is he this morning?’ and at the answer, describing his fresh and spirited looks, and his kind ways with Arthur Rhodes, and his fun with Sullivan Smith, and the satisfaction with the bridegroom declared by Lord Larrian (invalided from his Rock and unexpectingly informed of the wedding), Diana forgot that she had kissed her, and this time pressed her lips, in a manner to convey the secret bridally.

‘He has a lovely day.’

‘And bride,’ said Emma.

’If you two think so!  I should like to agree with my dear old lord and bless him for the prize he takes, though it feels itself at present rather like a Christmas bon-bon—­a piece of sugar in the wrap of a rhymed motto.  He is kind to Arthur, you say?’

‘Like a cordial elder brother.’

’Dear love, I have it at heart that I was harsh upon Mary Paynham for her letter.  She meant well—­and I fear she suffers.  And it may have been a bit my fault.  Blind that I was!  When you say “cordial elder brother,” you make him appear beautiful to me.  The worst of that is, one becomes aware of the inability to match him.’

‘Read with his eyes when you meet him this morning, my Tony.’

The secret was being clearly perceived by Emma, whose pride in assisting to dress the beautiful creature for her marriage—­with the man of men had a tinge from the hymenaeal brand, exulting over Dacier, and in the compensation coming to her beloved for her first luckless footing on this road.

‘How does he go down to the church?’ said Diana.

’He walks down.  Lukin and his Chief drive.  He walks, with your Arthur and Mr. Sullivan Smith.  He is on his way now.’

Diana looked through the window in the direction of the hill.  ’That is so like him, to walk to his wedding!’