"I am so glad to meet you, my dear," began the visitor, in soft, purring
accents. "I have long promised myself the pleasure of a call, and in
spite of many procrastinations at last have accomplished my ambition."

Beth resented the affectation of this prelude, and slightly frowned.
Diana was watching; she always watched. "Why should you wish to call
upon me?" was the frank demand. "Do not think me rude, please; but I am
scarcely in a position to become a desirable acquaintance of Miss Von
Taer." The tone was a trifle bitter, and Diana noted it. A subtile
antagonism seemed springing up between them and the more experienced
girl scented in this danger to her plans. She must handle this young
lady more cautiously than she had Louise Merrick.

"Your position is unimpeachable, my dear," was the sweet-toned response.
"You are John Merrick's niece."

Beth was really angry now. She scowled, and it spoiled her beauty. Diana
took warning and began to think quickly.

"I referred to my social position, Miss Von Taer. Our family is honest
enough, thank God; but it has never been accepted in what is termed
select society."

Diana laughed; a quiet, rippling laugh as icy as a brook in November,
but as near gaiety as she could at the moment accomplish. When she
laughed this way her eyes nearly closed and became inscrutable. Beth
had a feeling of repulsion for her caller, but strove to shake it off.
Miss Von Taer was nothing to her; could be nothing to her.

"Your uncle is a very wealthy man," said Diana, with easy composure. "He