“Why not?” replied the girl.  “Cerise belongs to the Von Taers—­body and soul!”

CHAPTER XI

THE BROWN LIMOUSINE

The second evening of the society Kermess passed without unusual event and proved very successful in attracting throngs of fashionable people to participate in its pleasures.

Louise and her cousins were at their stations early, and the second installment of Uncle John’s flowers was even more splendid and profuse than the first.  It was not at all difficult to make sales, and the little money drawer began to bulge with its generous receipts.

Many a gracious smile or nod or word was bestowed upon Miss Merrick by the society folk; for these people had had time to consider the accusation against her implied by Diana Von Taer’s manner when the pearls were discovered in the empty flower vase.  Being rather impartial judges—­for Diana was not a popular favorite with her set—­they decided it was absurd to suppose a niece of wealthy old John Merrick would descend to stealing any one’s jewelry.  Miss Merrick might have anything her heart desired with-out pausing to count the cost, and moreover she was credited with sufficient common sense to realize that the Von Taer heirlooms might easily be recognized anywhere.  So a little gossip concerning the queer incident had turned the tide of opinion in Louise’s favor, and as she was a recent debutante with a charming personality all vied to assure her she was held blameless.

A vast coterie of the select hovered about the flower booth all the evening, and the cousins joyously realized they had scored one of the distinct successes of the Kermess.  Arthur could not get very close to Louise this evening; but he enjoyed her popularity and from his modest retirement was able to exchange glances with her at intervals, and these glances assured him he was seldom absent from her thoughts.

Aside from this, he had the pleasure of glowering ferociously upon Charlie Mershone, who, failing to obtain recognition from Miss Merrick, devoted himself to his cousin Diana, or at least lounged nonchalantly in the neighborhood of the Hindoo Booth.  Mershone was very quiet.  There was a speculative look upon his features that denoted an undercurrent of thought.

Diana’s face was as expressionless as ever.  She well knew her action of the previous evening had severed the cordial relations formerly existing between her and Mr. Merrick’s nieces, and determined to avoid the possibility of a snub by keeping aloof from them.  She greeted whoever approached her station in her usual gracious and cultured manner, and refrained from even glancing toward Louise.