It was your desire we should become better
acquainted, and I am here for that purpose. I hope we shall become
friends, Aunt Jane, but until then, it is better we should not discuss
the past."

The woman frowned. It was not difficult for her to read the character
of the child before her, and she knew intuitively that Beth was
strongly prejudiced against her, but was honestly trying not to allow
that prejudice to influence her. She decided to postpone further
interrogations until another time.

"Your journey has tired you," she said abruptly. "I'll have Misery
show you to your room."

She touched a bell beside her.

"I'm not tired, but I'll go to my room, if you please," answered Beth,
who realized that she had in some way failed to make as favorable an
impression as she had hoped. "When may I see you again?"

"When I send for you," snapped Aunt Jane, as the housekeeper entered.
"I suppose you know I am a paralytic, and liable to die at any time?"

"I am very sorry," said Beth, hesitatingly. "You do not seem very
ill."

"I'm on my last legs. I may not live an hour. But that's none of your
business, I suppose. By the way, I expect your cousin on the afternoon
train."

Beth gave a start of surprise.

"My cousin?" she asked.

"Yes, Louise Merrick."

"Oh!" said Beth, and stopped short.

"What do you mean by that?" enquired Aunt Jane, with a smile that was
rather malicious.

"I did not know I had a cousin," said the girl. "That is," correcting
herself, "I did not know whether Louise Merrick was alive or not.
Mother has mentioned her name once or twice in my presence; but not
lately."

"Well, she's alive. Very much alive, I believe. And she's coming to
visit me, while you are here. I expect you to be friends."

"To be sure," said Beth, nevertheless discomfited at the news.

"We dine at seven," said Aunt Jane. "I always lunch in my own room,
and you may do the same," and with a wave of her thin hand she
dismissed the girl, who thoughtfully followed the old housekeeper
through the halls.

It was not going to be an easy task to win this old woman's affection.
Already she rebelled at the necessity of undertaking so distasteful a
venture and wondered if she had not made a mistake in trying to curb
her natural frankness, and to conciliate a creature whose very nature
seemed antagonistic to her own. And this new cousin, Louise Merrick,
why was she coming to Elmhurst? To compete for the prize Beth had
already