What Diantha Did | Page 7

and her hand ached for a moment.
"Wouldn't you let me work--to help you, Ross?"
"My dearest girl, you've got something far harder than that to do for me,
and that's wait."
His face darkened again, and he passed his hand over his forehead.
"Sometimes I feel as if I ought not to hold you at all!" he burst out,
bitterly. "You ought to be free to marry a better man."
"There aren't any!" said Diantha, shaking her head slowly from side to
side. "And if there were--millions--I wouldn't marry any of 'em. I love
_you,"_ she firmly concluded.
"Then we'll just _wait,"_ said he, setting his teeth on the word, as if he
would crush it. "It won't be hard with you to help. You're better worth it
than Rachael and Leah together." They walked a few steps silently.
"But how about science?" she asked him.
"I don't let myself think of it. I'll take that up later. We're young enough,
both of us, to wait for our happiness."
"And have you any idea--we might as well face the worst--how many
years do you think that will be, dearest?"
He was a little annoyed at her persistence. Also, though he would not
admit the thought, it did not seem quite the thing for her to ask. A

woman should not seek too definite a period of waiting. She ought to
trust--to just wait on general principles.
"I can face a thing better if I know just what I'm facing," said the girl,
quietly, "and I'd wait for you, if I had to, all my life. Will it be twenty
years, do you think?"
He looked relieved. "Why, no, indeed, darling. It oughtn't to be at the
outside more than five. Or six," he added, honest though reluctant.
"You see, father had no time to settle anything; there were outstanding
accounts, and the funeral expenses, and the mortgages. But the business
is good; and I can carry it; I can build it up." He shook his broad
shoulders determinedly. "I should think it might be within five, perhaps
even less. Good things happen sometimes--such as you, my heart's
delight."
They were at her gate now, and she stood a little while to say
good-night. A step inside there was a seat, walled in by evergreen,
roofed over by the wide acacia boughs. Many a long good-night had
they exchanged there, under the large, brilliant California moon. They
sat there, silent, now.
Diantha's heart was full of love for him, and pride and confidence in
him; but it was full of other feelings, too, which he could not fathom.
His trouble was clearer to her than to him; as heavy to bear. To her
mind, trained in all the minutiae of domestic economy, the Warden
family lived in careless wastefulness. That five women--for Dora was
older than she had been when she began to do housework--should
require servants, seemed to this New England-born girl mere laziness
and pride. That two voting women over twenty should prefer being
supported by their brother to supporting themselves, she condemned
even more sharply. Moreover, she felt well assured that with a different
family to "support," Mr. Warden would never have broken down so
suddenly and irrecoverably. Even that funeral--her face hardened as she
thought of the conspicuous "lot," the continual flowers, the monument
(not wholly paid for yet, that monument, though this she did not
know)--all that expenditure to do honor to the man they had worked to

death (thus brutally Diantha put it) was probably enough to put off their
happiness for a whole year.
She rose at last, her hand still held in his. "I'm sorry, but I've got to get
supper, dear," she said, "and you must go. Good-night for the present;
you'll be round by and by?"
"Yes, for a little while, after we close up," said he, and took himself off,
not too suddenly, walking straight and proud while her eves were on
him, throwing her a kiss from the corner; but his step lagging and his
headache settling down upon him again as he neared the large house
with the cupola.
Diantha watched him out of sight, turned and marched up the path to
her own door, her lips set tight, her well-shaped head as straightly held
as his. "It's a shame, a cruel, burning shame!" she told herself
rebelliously. "A man of his ability. Why, he could do anything, in his
own work! And he loved it so!
"To keep a grocery store--
""And nothing to show for all that splendid effort!
"They don't do a thing? They just _live_--and 'keep house!' All those
women!
"Six years? Likely to be sixty! But I'm not going to wait!"

WHAT DIANTHA DID

CHAPTER II.
AN UNNATURAL DAUGHTER
The brooding bird