in that clumsy way a man
has with any sort of headgear, the wheel of braided hair Diana wore,
wound over each ear in the Eastern fashion that came from "Kismet," was
loosened, and a thick plait with an engaging wave at the end fell down
on either side of her face. Standing, but supported in Father's arms,
her head lay on his shoulder, her eyes closed, long curling lashes
resting on marble cheeks. I had never seen her half so beautiful, and
Captain March gazed at her as if he would gladly give his life for a
reassuring smile.

"Shall I fetch a doctor?" he asked miserably. "There's sure to be one,
somewhere around."

Before Father could answer, Di opened her eyes, and Captain March got
the smile without paying the price.

"I--I'm all right," she breathed. "So sorry! I wasn't afraid, you know.
It was my _heart_. It seemed to stop."

"Of course you weren't afraid," Eagle encouraged her. "I can never
forgive myself for making you suffer."

Diana's smile graciously forgave the brutal fellow for his blundering,
and she extricated herself from Father's arms, the colour slowly
stealing back to her lips and cheeks. She shook her head a little, and
the two braids, stuck full of tiny tortoise-shell hairpins, tumbled over
her breast. Captain March nearly ate her up with his eyes, and then,
through their windows, his soul might be seen worshipping, and begging
the goddess's pardon on its knees.

"She's not strong," Father apologized. "It's my fault for letting her go
up; I ought to have remembered her heart."

It's a great asset, a weak heart, for a person who has just made an
exhibition of cowardice. Like charity, it covers a multitude of sins.
I'd never before heard of Di's heart being weak; and at home, if there
were a ball anywhere within twenty miles, she could always dance at it
till morning. However, I was glad she'd thought of her heart in time,
and saved the situation. It was an accommodating heart, for it came up
smiling, when the petting Di got had satisfied her that she wasn't to be
blamed for the fiasco.

"I think flying must be a wonderful experience for any one whose heart
is quite right," she consoled Captain March. "It's a pity, for the
credit of the family, you didn't take Peggy up first."

"I suppose she won't feel like going, after what has happened to you?"
said he, remembering my existence.

"Oh, I do feel like it, more than ever," I exclaimed, "that is, if you
don't mind risking another of us."