“The difference you observe in cocoanuts is to be found in the various grades of society.  These are not all insipid and artificial, I assure you.”

“They may be worse,” remarked Beth.  “I’ve heard strange tales of your orgies.”  Diana was really amused.  This girl was proving more interesting than the first niece she had interviewed.  Unaccustomed to seeking acquaintances outside her own exclusive circle, and under such circumstances, these meetings were to her in the nature of an adventure.  A creature of powerful likes and dislikes, she already hated Beth most heartily; but for that very reason she insisted on cultivating her further acquaintance.

“You must not judge society by the mad pranks of a few of its members,” she responded, in her most agreeable manner.  “If we are not to set an example in decorum to the rest of the world we are surely unfitted to occupy the high place accorded us.  But you must see and decide for yourself.”

“I?  No, indeed!”

“Ah, do not decide hastily, my dear.  Let me become your sponsor for a short time, until you really discover what society is like.  Then you may act upon more mature judgment.”

“I do not understand you, Miss Von Taer.”

“Then I will be more explicit.  I am to receive a few friends at my home on the evening of the nineteenth; will you be my guest?” Beth was puzzled how to answer.  The thought crossed her mind that perhaps Uncle John would like her to be courteous to his friend’s daughter, and that argument decided her.  She accepted the invitation.

“I want you to receive with me,” continued Diana, rising.  “In that way I shall be able to introduce you to my friends.”

Beth wondered at this condescension, but consented to receive.  She was annoyed to think how completely she had surrendered to the will of Miss Von Taer, for whom she had conceived the same aversion she had for a snake.  She estimated Diana, society belle though she was, to be sly, calculating and deceitful.  Worse than all, she was decidedly clever, and therefore dangerous.  Nothing good could come of an acquaintance with her, Beth was sure; yet she had pledged herself to meet her and her friends the nineteenth, lit a formal society function.  How much Beth De Graf misjudged Diana Von Taer the future will determine.  The interview had tired Diana.  As she reentered her carriage she was undecided whether to go home or hunt up the third niece.  But Willing Square was not five minutes’ drive from here, so she ordered the coachman to proceed there.

“I am positively out of my element in this affair,” she told herself, “for it is more difficult to cultivate these inexperienced girls than I had thought.  They are not exactly impossible, as I at first feared, but they are so wholly unconventional as to be somewhat embarrassing as protegees.  Analyzing the two I have met—­the majority—­one strikes me as being transparently affected and the