"But it was a lot of other things--that mother says
grandpapa always meant to divide between her and Aunt Sparling--and she
never had them--nor a farthing out of them!"
"What other things? I don't understand."
"Jewels!--there!--jewels--and a lot of plate. Mother says she had a
right to half the things that belonged to her mother. Grandpapa always
told her she should have them. And there wasn't a word about them in
the will."
"_I_ haven't any diamonds," said Diana, quietly, "or any jewels at all,
except a string of pearls papa gave me when I was nineteen, and two or
three little things we bought in Florence."
Fanny Merton grew still redder; she stared aggressively at her cousin:
"Well--that was because--Aunt Sparling sold all the things!"
Diana started and recoiled.
"You mean," she said--her breath fluttering--"that--mamma sold things
she had no right to--and never gave Aunt Bertha the money!"
The restrained passion of her look had an odd effect upon her companion.
Fanny first wavered under it, then laughed--a laugh that was partly
perplexity, partly something else, indecipherable.
"Well, as I wasn't born then, I don't know.
Pages:
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232