CHAPTER IX.
Marsham's first feeling, as he advanced into the room, and, looking round him, saw that Diana was alone, was one of acute physical pleasure.
The old room with its mingling of color, at once dim and rich; the sunlit garden through the casement windows; the scent of the logs burning on the hearth, and of the hyacinths and narcissus with which the warm air was perfumed; the signs everywhere of a woman's life and charm; all these first impressions leaped upon him, aiding the remembered spell which had recalled him--hot-foot and eager--from London, to this place, on the very first opportunity.
And if her surroundings were poetic, how much more so was the girl-figure itself!--the slender form, the dark head, and that shrinking joy which spoke in her gesture, in the movement she made toward him across the room.

She checked it at once, but not before a certain wildness in it had let loose upon him a rush of delight.
"Sir James explained ?" he said, as he took her hand.
"Yes.

I had no notion you would be here--this week-end." "Nor had I--till last night.

Then an appointment broken down--and--_me voici_!" "You stay over to-morrow ?" "Of course! But it is absurd that the Feltons should be five miles away!" She stammered: "It is a charming ride." "But too long!--One does not want to lose time." She was now sitting; and he beside her.

Mechanically she had taken up some embroidery--to shield her eyes.