th, Muriel Colwood was conscious of a sudden pang of
alarm--which was, in truth, the reawakening of something already vaguely
felt or surmised. She looked rather sternly at her companion.

"I really don't know what you mean, Miss Merton. And I never discuss
Miss Mallory's affairs. Perhaps you will kindly allow me to go to
my letters."

She was moving away when the girl beside her laughed again--rather
angrily--and Mrs. Colwood paused, touched again by instinctive fear.

"Oh, of course if I'm not to say a word about it--I'm not--that's all!
Well, now, look here--Diana needn't suppose that I've come all this way
just for fun. I had to say that about lessons, and that kind of thing--I
didn't want to set her against me--but I've ... Well!--why should I be
ashamed, I should like to know?"--she broke out, shrilly, sitting erect,
her face flushing deeply, her eyes on fire. "If some one owes you
something--why shouldn't you come and get it? Diana owes my mother
_money!_--a lot of money!--and we can't afford to lose it. Mother's
awfully sweet about Diana--she said, 'Oh no, it's unkind'--but I say
it's unkind to _us_, not to speak, when we all want money so bad--and
there are the boys to bring up--and--"

"Miss Merton--I'm very sorry--but really I cannot let you talk to me of
Miss Mallory's private affairs. It would neither be right--nor
honorable. You must see that. She will be in by tea-time herself.
Please!--"

Muriel's tone was gentle; but her attitude was resolution itself. Fanny
Merton stared at the frail slim creature in her deep widow's black; her
color rose.

"Oh, very well. Do as you like!--I'm agreeable! Only I thought
perhaps--as you and Diana seem to be such tremendous friends--you'd like
to talk it over with me first. I don't know how much Diana knows; and I
thought perhaps you'd give me a hint. Of course, she'll know all there
was in the papers. But my mother claims a deal more than the trust
money--jewels, and that kind of thing. And Uncle Mallory treated us
shamefully about them--_shamefully_! That's why I'm come over. I made
mother let me! Oh, she's so soft, is mother, she'd let anybody off. But
I said, 'Diana's rich, and she _ought_ to make it up to us! If nobody
else'll ask her, I will!'"

The girl had grown pale, but it was a pallor of determination and of
passion. Mrs. Colwood had listened to the torrent of words, held against
her will, first by astonishment, then by something else. If it should be