Mrs. Eveleth smiled faintly.

"No; I'm afraid that's gone. It was in George's hands, and I can see he
tried to increase it for me, by doing with it--as he did with his own.
I'm not blaming him. The worst of which he can be accused is a lack of
judgment."

"But there's this house!" Diane urged, "and all this furniture!--and
these pictures!"

She glanced up at the Watteau, the Boucher, and the Fragonard, which
gave the key to the decorations of the dainty boudoir. The faint smile
still lingered on Mrs. Eveleth's lips, as it lingers on the face of the
dead.

"There'll be very little left," she repeated.

"But I don't understand," Diane protested, with a perplexed movement of
the hand across her brow. "I don't know much about business, but if it
were explained to me I think I could follow."

"Come and sit beside me at the desk," Mrs. Eveleth suggested. "You will
understand better if you see the figures just as they stand."

She went over the main points, one by one, using the same untechnical
simplicity of language which George's men of business had employed with
herself. The facts could be stated broadly but comprehensively. When all
was settled the Eveleth estate would have disappeared. Diane would
possess her small inheritance, which was a thing apart. Mrs. Eveleth