Diana paid her cabman, and set her key in the lock, to be welcomed by Peter Pan's purring note as she opened the door.
She stooped and picked up the big cat. "Dear Peter," she whispered.
Peter, held against her heart, sang his little song of content, and, standing for a moment in the darkness, Diana fought for self-control before she went up to Sophie's room.
Mrs. Martens, wrapped in her gray kimono, was writing letters. She looked up with a glad cry as Diana entered.
"I didn't telegraph," Diana said, as she kissed her friend, "for there wasn't any use. I had my key, and I knew I could get a cab----"
"You're tired, dearest-dear." Sophie's worried eyes noted the weariness of gesture and tone, and the shadows under Diana's eyes as she untied her veil and took off her hat.
"Yes, I'm tired, dead tired." Diana dropped into a chair, and laid her head against the cushioned back.
Sophie bent over her. "You're not comfortable," she said; "come on down to your room and take a hot bath, and I'll heat a cup of milk, and then you can rest all warm and comfy, and I'll rub your head."
"Sophie," said Diana, suddenly, "I wonder if I ever rubbed anybody's head?"
"Of course," said Sophie; "what makes you say that?"
"Because I've been thinking a lot since I went to town, and it seems to me that all my life I've just taken and have not given. I took Anthony's love--I've taken your service----" She held out her hand. "Oh, I've been a selfish pig, Sophie, darling."
Sophie took the extended hand and patted it. "What a silly thing to say," soothingly; "you've always been everything--to me, Diana. You've done so much for me that I can never repay."
"Oh, yes, in giving big things--but it's the little things that count--like heating cups of milk and rubbing people's heads."
She said it whimsically, but there were tears in her eyes.
"You come right down and go to bed," Sophie advised. "And we can talk all about it afterward."
Diana, propped up among her pillows, watched her friend as she flitted like a gray moth about the room, intent on various comforting offices, and when at last Sophie brought to her a steaming cup Diana said, "Do you know, Sophie, I've always thought myself a rather superior person."
"I'm not. Oh, I've made up my mind about things at last, and I know that it hasn't been Bettina's happiness, nor Anthony's happiness that I have been thinking about, but my own.
