d. Wrinkles never lined themselves on the fair smooth brow;
proper token of the depth and calm of the character within.

CHAPTER X.

IN SUGAR.

Dinner was over, and talk ceased, for Mrs. Starling went to dress
herself for the sewing society, and presently drove off with Prince.
Diana's motions then became as swift as they were noiseless. Her
kitchen was in a state of perfected order and propriety. She went to
dress herself then; a modest dressing, for business, and kitchen
business, too, must claim her all the afternoon; but it is possible to
combine two effects in one's toilet; and if you had seen Diana that
day, you would have comprehended the proposition. A common print gown,
clean and summery-looking, showed her soft outlines at least as well as
a more modish affair would; and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows
revealed Diana's beautiful arms. I am bound to confess she had chosen a
white apron in defiance of possible fruit stains; and the dark hair
tucked away behind her ears gave the whole fair cheek and temple to
view; fair and delicate in contour, and coloured with the very hues of
a perfect physical condition. I think no man but would like to see his
future wife present such a picture of womanly beauty and housewifely
efficiency as Diana was that day. And the best was, she did not know it.

She went about her work. Doubtless she had a sense that interruptions
might come that afternoon; however, that changed nothing. She had
moulded her bread and put it in the pans and got it out of the way; and
now the berries were brought out of the pantry, and the preserving
kettle went on the fire, and Diana's fingers were soon red with the
ripe wine of the fruit. All the time she had her ears open for the
sound of a horse's hoofs upon the road; it had not come, so that a
quick step outside startled her, and then the figure of Mr. Knowlton in
the doorway took her by surprise. Certainly she had been expecting him
all the afternoon; but now, whether it were the surprise or somewhat
else, Diana's face flushed to the most lovely rose. Yet she went to
meet him with simple frankness.

"I've not a hand to give you!" she said.

"Not a hand!" he echoed. "What a mercy it is that I am independent of
hands. Yesterday I should have been in despair;--to-day"--

"You must not abuse your privileges," said Diana, trying to free
herself. "And O, Mr. Knowlton, I have a great deal of work to do."

"So have I," said he, hold