sooner or later to let them know the
truth.

That day at Di's, however, they gave me no chance to speak, even if I'd
had strength of mind to snatch it. Tony was safely on his way to
America, travelling in the steerage, having given up his cabin to as
many ladies as it could hold. He was admiringly mentioned, and then
dismissed as a subject of conversation in favour of others more exciting
to his family and closer at hand. Milly, while sewing spasmodically on a
weirdly shaped shirt which could only be got on or off by a weirdly
shaped man, talked about Stefan and produced a letter from him, which
she cherished inside her blouse. He had been wounded, seriously though
not dangerously, in Poland, and invalided home. It was not thought that
he would be able to do any more fighting, and so when he was strong
enough, he hoped to try and reach England in order that they might be
married at once, if Milly would not mind taking an invalid for a
husband. Apparently Milly did not mind in what condition she took her
count provided she was sure of getting him. She was looking forward, if
all went well, to becoming a Russian countess within a few weeks, for
Stefan expected to arrive in a ship from Archangel along a sea route
protected by the British navy. She had so little fear of anything going
wrong that she was "encouraging dressmakers" by starting her trousseau,
and had begun to study the Russian language as a surprise for her
fiance. Mrs. Dalziel talked about Stefan, too, and how she would help
nurse him back to health in a suite at the Savoy, when he and Milly were
married. Meanwhile, mother and daughter were giving themselves up to
good works, it seemed, whenever they had a minute to spare from their
own affairs. Milly went three times a week to the Russian Embassy to sew
for the Russians, and came twice a week to Diana's guild. Mrs. Dalziel
had joined two committees got up by stranded Americans at the Savoy: one
to supply money for moneyless millionaires, and the other to find
clothes for clotheless millionairesses.

Whenever one of Diana's workers collapsed with fatigue, she was given
tea or something to eat, and allowed an interval's repose in Di's
boudoir, which had become the temporary consulting-room of Madame
Mesmerre. The tame clairvoyant was expressly forbidden to foretell
anything depressing; if she could not get visions of husbands, sons, and
lovers coming safely home, it was distinctly understood with Diana (who