would have a few jewels and other minor personal belongings, but nothing
more. The very completeness of the story rendered it easy in the
telling, though the largeness of the facts made it impossible for Diane
to take them in. It was an almost unreasonable tax on credulity to
attempt to think of the tall, fragile woman sitting before her, with
luxurious nurture in every pose of the figure, in every habit of the
mind, as penniless. It was trying to account for daylight without a sun.

"It can't be!" Diane cried, when she had done her best to weigh the
facts just placed before her.

Mrs. Eveleth shook her head, the glimmering smile fixed on her lips as
on a mask.

"It is so, dear, I'm afraid. We must do our best to get used to it."

"I shall never get used to it," Diane cried, springing to her
feet--"never, never!"

"It will be hard for you to do without all you've had--when you've had
so much--but--"

"Oh, it isn't that," Diane broke in, fiercely. "It isn't for me. I can
do well enough. It's for you."

"Don't worry about me, dear. I can work."

The words were spoken in a matter-of-fact tone, but Diane recoiled at
them as at a sword-thrust.