The light was pure and wan--the resting earth shone through it gently yet austerely; only the great woods darkly massed on the horizon gave an accent of mysterious power to a scene in which Nature otherwise showed herself the tamed and homely servant of men.

Below were the trees of Beechcote, the gray walls, and the windows touched with a last festal gleam.
Suddenly Marsham dropped down beside her.
"I see it all with new eyes," he said, passionately.

"I have lived in this country from my childhood; and I never saw it before! Diana!--" He raised her hand, which only faintly resisted; he looked into her eyes.

She had grown very pale--enchantingly pale.

There was in her the dim sense of a great fulfilment; the fulfilment of Nature's promise to her; implicit in her woman's lot from the beginning.
"Diana!--" the low voice searched her heart--"You know--what I have come to say?
I meant to have waited a little longer--I was afraid!--but I couldn't wait--it was beyond my strength.