Danvers had brought firewood and coal.
Orders were given to her, and in spite of the opposition of the maid and intervention of the gentleman, Diana knelt at the grate, observing: 'Allow me to do this.

I can lay and light a fire.' He was obliged to look on: she was a woman who spoke her meaning.

She knelt, handling paper, firewood and matches, like a housemaid.
Danvers proceeded on her mission, and Redworth eyed Diana in the first fire-glow.

He could have imagined a Madonna on an old black Spanish canvas.
The act of service was beautiful in gracefulness, and her simplicity in doing the work touched it spiritually.

He thought, as she knelt there, that never had he seen how lovely and how charged with mystery her features were; the dark large eyes full on the brows; the proud line of a straight nose in right measure to the bow of the lips; reposeful red lips, shut, and their curve of the slumber-smile at the corners.