attempted would succeed or not.

A short stone's-throw from where they had halted stood a cottage back
from the road in a little plot of ground, the property of a kindly old
woman known to both. There Diana expressed the wish to rest awhile,
and thither they took their way, Ruth leading both horses and supporting
her faltering cousin. The dame was all solicitude. Diana was led into
her parlour, and what could be done was done. Her corsage was loosened,
water drawn from the well and brought her to drink and bathe her brow.

She sat back languidly, her head lolling sideways against one of the
wings of the great chair, and languidly assured them she would be better
soon if she were but allowed to rest awhile. Ruth drew up a stool to
sit beside her, for all that her soul fretted at this delay. What if
in consequence she should reach Zoyland Chase too late - to find tha
Mr. Wilding had gone forth already? But even as she was about to sit,
it seemed that the same thought had of a sudden come to Diana. The girl
leaned forward, thrusting - as if by an effort - some of her faintness
from her.

"Do not wait for me, Ruth," she begged.

"I must, child."

"You must not;" the other insisted. "Think what it may mean - Richard's
life, perhaps. No, no, Ruth, dear. Go on; go on to Zoyland. I'll
follow you in a few minutes."

"I'll wait for you," said Ruth with firmness.