then welcome her with open arms. Now she knows none of them; it would be
only on your account that she would be received, not upon her own, and I
think she'd like the other better Diana. What do you think, Bettina?"
he asked. "It is for you to say."

Bettina, who was making a tiny white nosegay of lilacs to pin on
Anthony's coat, turned to them a sparkling countenance.

"Me--does it matter? Does anything matter except that I am going to
marry you, Anthony?"

She held out her hands to him, laughing over her shoulder at Diana. With
her flower face, her hair of gold, her figure slim and swaying like a
lily on its stem, she was radiantly, almost impertinently young, and,
with a sudden sense of age and weariness, Diana buried her face in the
lilacs to hide a whiteness which matched their own.

But she had not been quick enough to escape the keen eyes of Anthony.

He dropped Bettina's hands. "I'll stop to-morrow morning, child, on my
way to the sanatorium, and take you over."

"And dine with us later," said Diana. "I'm going to have a lot of
people. It will be a sort of impromptu housewarming. I've telephoned
about a dozen old friends."

"But I haven't anything to wear." Bettina was again in a panic.

"You'll have about twelve hours to get ready," Diana comforted; "we can
do a lot in that time."

But her mind was not on clothes, for she followed the doctor out into
the hall to say, "She's just sweet, Anthony----"

"Don't," suddenly all the calm of his fine face was broken up, "don't,
Diana----"

Then Bettina came out with the little nosegay of white lilacs.

"You were going away without it," she said reproachfully to the doctor,
who was half-way down the stairway.

"Throw it to me and I'll catch it," he called.

But she ran after him and pinned it on and dropped a hasty kiss in the
midst of its fragrance, and ran up again, blushing.

And Diana watched the little scene from the top of the stairs and
wondered if she had overestimated her own power to endure.

The two women, standing at the window high up in the hallway, saw the
doctor depart, then Diana said, suddenly, "Betty, dear, must you wear
black?"

The girl's lip trembled.

"But--mother----"

"I know. But, dearie, it wouldn't make her any happier to see you so
somber. And there's white for you, and all the pale, pretty tints, and
you wouldn't be too gay, nor sadden others."

"But your friend, Mrs. Martens," said Bettina, eagerly; "Anthony point