They walked over the grounds of Copsley, and into the lanes and across the meadows of the cowslip, rattling, chatting, enlivening the frosty air, happy as children biting to the juices of ripe apples off the tree.

But Tony was the tree, the dispenser of the rosy gifts.

She had a moment of reflection, only a moment, and Emma felt the pause as though a cloud had shadowed them and a spirit had been shut away.

Both spoke of their happiness at the kiss of parting.
That melancholy note at the top of the wave to human hearts conscious of its enforced decline was repeated by them, and Diana's eyelids blinked to dismiss a tear.
'You have no troubles ?' Emma said.
'Only the pain of the good-bye to my beloved,' said Diana.

'I have never been happier--never shall be! Now you know him you think with me?
I knew you would.