A gentleman—­sweet vision!—­shot by to the editor’s door, without even looking cursorily.  He knocked.  Mr. Tonans appeared and took him by the arm, dictating at a great rate; perceived Danvers, frowned at the female, and requested him to wait in the room, which the gentleman did, not once casting eye upon a woman.  At last her mistress returned to her, escorted so far by Mr. Tonans, and he refreshingly bent his back to bow over her hand:  so we have the satisfaction of knowing that we are not such poor creatures after all!  Suffering in person, Danvers was revived by the little show of homage to her sex.

They descended the stairs.

’You are not an Editor of a paper, but you may boast that you have been near the nest of one,’ Diana said, when they resumed their seats in the cab.  She breathed deeply from time to time, as if under a weight, or relieved of it, but she seemed animated, and she dropped now and again a funny observation of the kind that tickled Danvers and caused the maid to boast of her everywhere as better than a Play.

At home, Danvers busied her hands to supply her mistress a cup of refreshing tea and a plate of biscuits.

Diana had stunned herself with the strange weight of the expedition, and had not a thought.  In spite of tea at that hour, she slept soundly through the remainder of the night, dreamlessly till late into the morning.

CHAPTER XXXIII

EXHIBITS THE SPRINGING OF A MINE IN A NEWSPAPER ARTICLE

The powers of harmony would seem to be tried to their shrewdest pitch when Politics and Love are planted together in a human breast.  This apparently opposite couple can nevertheless chant a very sweet accord, as was shown by Dacier on his homeward walk from Diana’s house.  Let Love lead, the God will make music of any chamber-comrade.  He was able to think of affairs of State while feeling the satisfied thirst of the lover whose pride, irritated by confidential wild eulogies of the beautiful woman, had recently clamoured for proofs of his commandership.  The impression she stamped on him at Copsley remained, but it could not occupy the foreground for ever.  He did not object to play second to her sprightly wits in converse, if he had some warm testimony to his mastery over her blood.  For the world had given her to him, enthusiastic friends had congratulated him:  she had exalted him for true knightliness; and he considered the proofs well earned, though he did not value them low.  They were little by comparison.  They lighted, instead of staining, her unparalleled high character.