For Lady Lucy that which runs--"Judge Not!"-- had never been alive.
Her emphatic reference to Marsham had brought the ready color to Diana's cheeks.
"Yes--there seems no chance!--" she said, shyly, and regretfully, as the rain beat on the window.
"Oh, dear me, yes!" said a voice behind them.

"The glass is going up.
It'll be a fine afternoon--and we'll go and meet them at Holme Copse.
Sha'n't we, Lady Lucy ?" Mr.Ferrier appeared, coming up from the library laden with papers.

The three stood chatting together on the broad gallery which ran round the hall.

The kindness of the two elders was so marked that Diana's spirits returned; she was not to be quite a pariah it seemed! As she walked away toward her room, Mr.Ferrier's eyes pursued her--the slim round figure, the young loveliness of her head and neck.
"Well!--what are you thinking about her ?" he said, eagerly, turning to the mistress of the house.
Lady Lucy smiled.
"I should prefer it if she didn't talk politics," she said, with the slightest possible stiffness, "But she seems a very charming girl." "She talks politics, my dear lady, because living alone with her father and with her books, she has had nothing else to talk about but politics and books.

Would you rather she talked scandal--or Monte Carlo ?" The Quaker in Lady Lucy laughed.
"Of course if she married Oliver, she would subordinate her opinions to his." "Would she!" said Mr.Ferrier--"I'm not so sure!" Lady Lucy replied that if not, it would be calamitous.