her "aloofness," the very thing I was impatient at, but she and I were chums and she liked to be with me.
"I can't stand her; she doesn't care for a soul but herself; how can you, Naomi!"
"It doesn't matter to me a bit whether people care for me or not," said Naomi, "I just like her as she is. Besides," she said, "I have lived with her before. She comforted me when I was in great trouble. I was staying with friends of mine and we quarrelled. Now I come to think of it, it was because they laughed at Diana and I wouldn't stand it. I left, and went to stay, in the same house as she was. I was very miserable there and she soothed me so with her calm."
"Give me more flesh and blood," I said, "I don't like statues—Rather a storm than a calm."
"You little Pagan," she said.
But the Priestess had her queer little ways.
"Come down, Diana," called Naomi one day, "come and have some afternoon tea. I know you don't drink it but be wicked for once and do."
"Well, will you promise not to talk scandal," said the Priestess, "I can't come if you talk scandal."
"Promise?" asked Naomi, looking at me with a twinkle in her eye.
She came down and we were as good as gold, but found ourselves out of pure devilment or nervousness, we scarcely knew which, finding something scandalous popping into everything we said.
She was not often with us, for she had her own way of living and we were of the world.
Then came the time when Naomi's bills used to come in, and she had the idea of letting some of her rooms in the flat downstairs.
It was I who gave her the idea, unfortunately.
Hers was a furnished flat, and when it came hard on her to find her rent and to meet her bills, she hardened her heart against Diana, who had persuaded her to go there.
I put in a protest then for Diana's good intentions.
"No," she said, "she wanted to get me here for her own sake—just for her own ends."
Together we planned and suggested which room should be let and which kept for herself.
Then came the advertising and the making known to agents.
Diana was all out of this.
Somehow Naomi and I had drawn very near to one another. The White Priestess went her own way, and all we knew of her, was when we caught a glimpse of her at her window above. She did not approve of Naomi's letting rooms.
At last Naomi told me she had heard of some people.
