"I do, most emphatically!"
"Oh, I see what 'tis! You cannot hoodwink me. 'Twas never thus with you before that fellow came!"
"Mr. Bettison, I am entirely at a loss, but I desire you to leave this room before you say aught you may afterwards regret."
He disregarded her.
"You are infatuated by that over-dressed popinjay-that insufferable Carr, who, from all I hear, is but a shady fellow, and who-"
With a sweeping movement Diana had risen and walked to the bell-rope. She now pulled it with such vigour that a great peal sounded throughout the house.
She stood perfectly still, a statue of Disdain, tall, beautiful and furious, with compressed lips and head held high. Mr. Bettison broke off and mopped his brow, glaring at her Startled Thomas appeared at the door.
"Did you ring, madam?"
"Show Mr. Bettison out," was the proud answer.
The Squire got up awkwardly.
"I am sure I apologise if I said aught that was untrue," he mumbled. "I hope you will not take my words amiss-"
"I shall try to forget your insults, sir," she replied. "The door, Thomas!"
Mr. Bettison went out, and his step had lost some of its self-confident swagger.
For a full minute after the great front door had shut behind him, Diana stood where she was, and then the colour suddenly flamed in her cheeks, and she turned and ran out of the room, up the stairs, to her own chamber, where she indulged in a luxurious fit of crying. From this enjoyable occupation she was interrupted by a rap on the door, and Miss Betty's voice desiring to know if she was within.
She instantly started up and with hasty fingers straightened her tumbled curls.
"Pray enter!" she called, trying to sound jaunty. To complete the illusion, she started to hum. Her aunt entered.
"I came to see if you had my broidery. I cannot find it, and I am sure 'twas you brought it in from the garden this morning."
"Yes-oh, yes-I am so sorry! 'Tis in that corner on the chair, I think," replied Diana, keeping her face averted.
Miss Betty cast a shrewd glance at her, and sat down on the sofa with the air of one who means to stay.
"What is it, my love?" she demanded.
Diana pretended to search for something in a cupboard.
"Nothing, aunt! What should there be?"
"I do not know. 'Tis what I want to find out," answered Miss Betty placidly.
"There is nought amiss, I assure you!" To prove the truth of this statement, Diana essayed a laugh. It was a poor attempt, and wavered pitifully into a sob.