He hesitated.

“Sunday afternoon?” he answered.

“Yes.”

“All right; I’ll come, Diana.”

She gave him a grateful look and taking his arm allowed him to lead her back to the drawing-room.  The crush was over, many having already departed.  Some of the young people were dancing in the open spaces to the music of a string orchestra hidden behind a bank of ferns in the hall.

Louise and Beth were the centers of attentive circles; Patsy conversed with merry freedom with a group of ancient dowagers, who delighted in her freshness and healthy vigor and were flattered by her consideration.  Mrs. Merrick—­for she had been invited—­sat in a corner gorgeously robed and stiff as a poker, her eyes devouring the scene.  Noting the triumph of Louise she failed to realize she was herself neglected.  A single glance sufficed to acquaint Diana with all this, and after a gracious word to her guests here and there she asked Arthur to dance with her.  He could not well refuse, but felt irritated and annoyed when he observed Louise’s eyes fastened upon him in amused disdain.  After a few turns he discovered some departing ones waiting to bid their hostess adieu, and escaped from his unpleasant predicament by halting his partner before them.  Then he slipped away and quietly left the house before Diana had time to miss him.

CHAPTER VII

THE HERO ENTERS AND TROUBLE BEGINS

The Von Taer reception fully launched the three nieces in society.  Endorsed by Diana and backed by John Merrick’s millions and their own winsome charms, they were sure to become favorites in that admirable set to which they had fortunately gained admittance.

Cards poured in upon them during; the succeeding days and they found themselves busy returning calls and attending dinners, fetes, bridge parties and similar diversions.  The great Mrs. Sandringham took a decided fancy to Louise, and when the committee was appointed to arrange for the social Kermess to be held in December, this dictatorial leader had the girl’s name included in the list.  Naturally the favor led to all three cousins taking active part in the most famous social event of the season, and as an especial mark of favoritism they were appointed to conduct the “flower booth,” one of the important features of the Kermess.

Mrs. Merrick was in the seventh heaven of ecstatic delight; Uncle John declared his three girls were sure to become shining lights, if not actual constellations, wherever they might be placed; Major Doyle growled and protested; but was secretly pleased to have “our Patsy the captain of the dress parade,” where he fondly imagined she outclassed all others.  All former denunciations of society at large were now ignored, even by unimpressive Beth, and the girls soon became deeply interested in their novel experiences.

Arthur Weldon sulked at home, unhappy and undecided, for a day or two after the reception.  Sunday noon he dispatched a messenger to Diana with a note saying he would be unable to keep his appointment with her that afternoon.  Then he went straight to the Merrick home and sent his card to Louise.  The girl flushed, smiled, frowned, and decided to go down.