en or
Waterloo blue cloth for glistening white satin, and be stepping into the
carriage with Gervase to be present at one of their wedding parties.

There was something positively great in the intentness with which
the woman pursued her end of the man's salvation; the vigilance with
which she ever kept sight of the wounded quarry she was to rescue
and to restore. The neighbourhood watched the struggle with
interest, admiration, hostile criticism, not very delicate
diversion. Only to John Fitzwilliam Baring the struggle was a
matter of indifference--rather of repugnance. He would have liked
Die to be more feminine and more helpless.

Would Die slacken in her energy and devotion? Would Gervase be able to
bear his cure much longer?

Beyond the honeymoon, and with the feeling decidedly growing, Gervase
Norgate was gratified by his wife's sacrifice of herself in every
respect, and long before he grew accustomed to it and felt easy under
it, he was touched by it. He liked her company too, for he was fond of
society, and had been lonely since his father and mother died. She was
an observant, intelligent woman, high-minded and pure-hearted, and
vastly superior to his late satellites. She was eager to suit herself to
him, and made herself as free with him as she could be, as far as he
knew, with any one. At this season Gervase Norgate was attracted to
something warmer, sweeter, more intimate in their intercourse. He
enjoyed her quick remarks and shrewd conclusions. He was pleased with,
and proud of the new blossoming of her beauty under the combined
influences of an open-air life, constant occupation, and a powerful
object. He was willing to wait till more tender feelings should awaken
between them. It looked as if Gervase Norgate had turned over a new
leaf: his cheek lost its dull, engrained red, or its pallor; his lips
grew firmer; his eyes clearer and cooler; he raised his head, and threw
off something of the slouch of his shoulders and the swing and
uncertainty of his walk.

"How well you look in that pretty dress, Diana!" he would say; "I
declare you are as brave a figure as any in my Lord's picture-gallery.
Let me fetch you a cluster of monthly roses, though I am not fit to hold
the candle to you." Or, "Come, Die, let us have a stroll and a smoke in
the garden." Or, "Sit still for another game, will you? My hand is just
in and my luck beginning. I know you are never tired. Mrs. Gervase, you
are a trump--the ace of tru