influence of her cousins and of Uncle John had conspired to make the
supersensitive girl more tolerant of herself and less morbid than
formerly.

I think Beth knew of Diana Von Taer, for the latter's portrait
frequently graced the society columns of the New York press and at times
the three nieces, in confidential mood, would canvass Diana and her
social exploits as they did the acts of other famous semi-public
personages. But the girl had never dreamed of meeting such a celebrity,
and Miss Von Taer's card filled her with curious wonder as to the errand
that had brought her.

The De Grafs lived _en suite_ at the hotel, for Beth had determined to
surround her Sybaritic mother with all attainable luxury, since the
child frequently reproached herself with feeling a distinct repulsion
for the poor woman. So to-day Diana was ushered into a pretty parlor
where Beth stood calmly awaiting her.

The two regarded one another in silence a moment, Miss De Graf's frank
eyes covering the other with a comprehensive sweep while Miss Von Taer's
narrowed gaze, profoundly observant, studied the beautiful girl before
her with that impenetrable, half-hidden gleam that precluded any
solution.

"Miss Von Taer, I believe," said Beth, quietly glancing at the card she
held. "Will you be seated?"

Diana sank gracefully into a chair. The sinuous motion attracted Beth's
attention and gave her a slight shiver.