My millionaire shall ask you to dinner at my house in Park-lane; and you shall play _ecarte_ with him, if you like--papa's kind of _ecarte_." "Don't talk of those things, Di," said Mr.Hawkehurst, with something that was almost a shudder; "let us forget that we ever led that kind of life." "Yes," replied Diana, "let us forget it--if we can." The bitterness of her tone struck him painfully.

He sat for some minutes watching her silently, and pitying her fate.

What a sad fate it seemed, and how hopeless! For him there was always some chance of redemption.

He could go out into the world, and cut his way through the forest of difficulty with the axe of the conqueror.

But what could a woman do who found herself in the midst of that dismal forest?
She could only sit at the door of her lonesome hut, looking out with weary eyes for the prince who was to come and rescue her.