r. Marsham go?"

Diana by this time was crossing the landing to the door of her room,
with Fanny behind her.

"Oh, quite an hour ago. Hadn't we better dress? Dinner will be ready
directly."

Fanny took no notice. She entered her cousin's room, in Diana's wake.

"Well?" she said, interrogatively. She leaned her back against the
wardrobe, and folded her arms.

Diana turned. She met Fanny's black eyes, sparkling with excitement.

"I'll give you my news at dinner," said Diana, flushing against her
will. "And I want to know how you liked Miss Drake."

Fanny's eyes shot fire.

"That's all very fine! That means, of course, that you're not going to
tell me anything!"

"Fanny!" cried Diana, helplessly. She was held spellbound by the
passion, the menace in the girl's look. But the touch of shrinking in
her attitude roused brutal violence in Fanny.

"Yes, it does!" she said, fiercely. "I understand!--don't I! I am not
good enough for you, and you'll make me feel it. You're going to make a
smart marriage, and you won't care whether you ever set eyes on any of
us again. Oh! I know you've given us money--or you say you will. If I
knew which side my bread was buttered, I suppose I should hold my
tongue.--But when you treat me like the dirt under your feet--when you
tell everything to that woman Mrs. Colwood, who's no relation, and
nothing in the world to you--and leave me kicking my heels all alone,
because I'm not the kind you want, and you wish to goodness I'd never
come--when you show as plain as you can that I'm a common creature--not
fit to pick up your gloves!--I tell you I just won't stand it. No one
would--who knew what I know!"

The last words were flung in Diana's teeth with all the force that
wounded pride and envious wrath could give them. Diana tottered a
little. Her hand clung to the dressing-table behind her.

"What do you know?" she said. "Tell me at once--what you mean."

Fanny contemptuously shook her head. She walked to the door, and before
Diana could stop her, she had rushed across to her own room and locked
herself in.

There she walked up and down panting. She hardly understood her own
rage, and she was quite conscious that, for her own interests, she had
acted during the whole afternoon like a fool. First, stung by the pique
excited in her by the talk of the luncheon-table, she had let herself be
exploited and explored by Alicia Drake. She had not meant to tell her
secret, but somehow she had