Only the posturing lower natures, on the level of their buskins, can pluck out the pocket-knife of sentimental spite to cut themselves loose from her at heart in earnest.

The higher, bleed as they may, too pressingly feel their debt.

Diana had the Celtic vivid sense of country.

In England she was Irish, by hereditary, and by wilful opposition.

Abroad, gazing along the waters, observing, comparing, reflecting, above all, reading of the struggles at home, the things done and attempted, her soul of generosity made her, though not less Irish, a daughter of Britain.