been content! But she had examined everything presented to her with a
very critical eye, and all through it had been plain that she was
impatient and dissatisfied; for, inevitably, her social success was not
great. Diana, on the other hand, was still a new sensation, and
something of a queen wherever she went. Her welcoming eyes, her
impetuous smile drew a natural homage; and Fanny followed sulkily in her
wake, accepted--not without surprise--as Miss Mallory's kinswoman, but
distinguished by no special attentions.

In any case, she would have rebelled against the situation. Her vanity
was amazing, her temper violent. At home she had been treated as a
beauty, and had ruled the family with a firm view to her own interests.
What in Alicia Drake was disguised by a thousand subleties of class and
training was here seen in its crudest form. But there was more
besides--miserably plain now to this trembling spectator. The resentment
of Diana's place in life, as of something robbed, not earned--the
scarcely concealed claim either to share it or attack it--these things
were no longer riddles to Muriel Colwood. Rather they were the
storm-signs of a coming tempest, already darkening above an
innocent head.

What could she do? The little lady gave her days and nights to the
question, and saw no way out. Sometimes she hoped that Diana's
personality had made an impression on this sinister guest; she traced a
grudging consciousness in Fanny of her cousin's generosity and charm.
But this perception only led to fresh despondency. Whenever Fanny
softened, it showed itself in a claim to intimacy, as sudden and as
violent as her ill-temper. She must be Diana's first and dearest--be
admitted to all Diana's secrets and friendships. Then on Diana's side,
inevitable withdrawal, shrinking, self-defence--and on Fanny's a hotter
and more acrid jealousy.

Meanwhile, as Mrs. Colwood knew, Diana had been engaged in
correspondence with her solicitors, who had been giving her some prudent
and rather stringent advice on the subject of income and expenditure.
This morning, so Mrs. Colwood believed, a letter had arrived.

Presently she stole out of her room to the head of the stairs. There she
remained, pale and irresolute, for a little while, listening to the
sounds in the house. But the striking of the hall clock, the sighing of
a stormy wind round the house, and, occasionally, a sound of talking in
the drawing-room, was all she heard.

*