It was great presumption on my part.

After all"-- with bitter mockery--"what are a handful of nettles in the garden of a _prima donna_?
They'll soon be stifled beneath the wreaths of laurel and bouquets that the world will throw you.

You'll never even feel their sting." "You are wrong," said Diana, very low, "quite wrong.

They _have_ stung me.

Mr.Errington"-- and as she turned to him he saw that her eyes were brimming with tears--"why can't we be friends?
You--you have helped me so many times that I don't understand why you treat me now.