Lady Dunstane controlled the pricking of the wound inflicted by Diana's
novel exercise in laconics where the fullest flow was due to tenderness,
and despatched felicitations upon the text of the initial line: 'Wonders
are always happening.' She wrote to hide vexation beneath surprise;
naturally betraying it. 'I must hope and pray that you have not been
precipitate.' Her curiosity to inspect the happiest of men, the most
genuine part of her letter, was expressed coldly.

When she had finished the composition she perused it, and did not
recognize herself in her language, though she had been so guarded to
cover the wound her Tony dealt their friendship--in some degree injuring
their sex. For it might now, after such an example, verily seem that
women are incapable of a translucent perfect confidence: their impulses,
caprices, desperations, tricks of concealment, trip a heart-whole
friendship. Well, to-morrow, if not to-day, the tripping may be
expected! Lady Dunstane resigned herself sadly to a lowered view of
her Tony's character. This was her unconscious act of reprisal.
Her brilliant beloved Tony, dazzling but in beauty and the gifted mind,
stood as one essentially with the common order of women. She wished to
be settled, Mr. Warwick proposed, and for the sake of living at The
Crossways she accepted him--she, the lofty scorner of loveless marriages!
who had said--how many times! that nothing save love excused it! She
degraded their mutual high standard of womankind. Diana was in eclipse,
full three parts. The bulk of the gentlemanly official she had chosen
obscured her. But I have written very carefully, thought Lady Dunstane,
dropping her answer into the post-bag. She had, indeed, been so care
ful, that to cloak her feelings, she had written as another person.
Women with otiose husbands have a task to preserve friendship.