It made another woman out of Diane Sampson.

I could scarcely comprehend that she was asking me, almost beseechingly, for further assurance of Steele's love.

I knew nothing of women, but this seemed strange.

Then a thought sent the blood chilling back to my heart.
Had Diane Sampson guessed the guilt of her father?
Was it more for his sake than for her own that she hoped--for surely she hoped--that Steele loved her?
Here was more mystery, more food for reflection.

Only a powerful motive or a self-leveling love could have made a woman of Diane Sampson's pride ask such a question.