Diana was led into her parlour, and what could be done was done.

Her corsage was loosened, water drawn from the well and brought her to drink and bathe her brow.
She sat back languidly, her head lolling sideways against one of the wings of the great chair, and languidly assured them she would be better soon if she were but allowed to rest awhile.

Ruth drew up a stool to sit beside her, for all that her soul fretted at this delay.

What if in consequence she should reach Zoyland Chase too late--to find that Mr.Wilding had gone forth already?
But even as she was about to sit, it seemed that the same thought had of a sudden come to Diana.

The girl leaned forward, thrusting--as if by an effort--some of her faintness from her.
"Do not wait for me, Ruth," she begged.
"I must, child." "You must not;" the other insisted.