he might have seen it without her telling; but if he did
not, then she must speak. He had a right to so much comfort as she
could give him, and he ought to be told that she was not now wishing to
be in another presence and society than his. If she could tell him
without his thinking too much--she watched till the letter was written
and he was folding it up. And then Diana's tongue hesitated
unaccountably.

"Basil," she began, obliging herself to speak,--"I can smell the roses
again."

He looked up instantly with keen eyes.

"You know--there was a long while--a long while--in which I could not
feel that anything was sweet."

"And now?"--

"Now I can. I knew you ought to know. You would be glad. I am like a
person who has been in a brain fever--or dead--and awaked to life and
soundness again. You cannot think what it is to me to see the sky."
Diana's eyes filled.

"What did you use to see?"

"The vault of my prison. What signified whether it were blue or brazen?
But now"--

"Well?--Now, Diana?"

"I can see through."

Perhaps this was not very intelligible, for manifestly it was not easy
for Diana to explain herself; but Basil this time did not speak, and
she presently began again.

"I mean,--there is no prison vault, nor any prison any more; the walls
that seemed to shut me in are dissolved, and I am free again."

"And you can see through?"--Basil repeated.

"Yes. Where my eyes were met by something harder than fate,--it is all
broken up, and light, and clear, and I can see through."

"I never used to think you were a fanciful woman," said the minister,
eyeing her intently, "but this time I do not quite follow you, Di. I am
afraid to take your words for all they may mean."

"But you may."

"What may I?"

"They mean all I say."

"I am sure of that," said he, smiling, though he looked anxious; "but,
you see, there is the very point of my difficulty."

"I mean, Basil, that I am out of my bondage,--which I thought never
could be broken in this world."

"Out of what bondage, my love?"

Diana paused.

"When I went down to Clifton, to Mrs. Sutphen's, do you know, I could
think of nothing but--Evan Knowlton?"

Diana's colour stirred, but she looked her husband steadily in the face.

"I suspected it."

"For a long time I could not, Basil. Night and day I could think of
nothing else. Wasn't that bondage?"

"Depends on how you take it," said the minister.

"But it was _wrong_, Basil."

"I fo