Sometimes, when the nieces were all at Aunt Jane’s, Beth had snuggled in the arms of her cousin Louise, who had a way of rendering herself agreeable to all with whom she came in contact, and tried hard to win the affection of the frankly antagonistic girl.  At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment.  Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression.  But she did not tell Beth that.  The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities.

The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John’s telegram.  She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: 

“I think I shall go.”

“Nothing like that ever happened to me,” remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously.  “If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he’d have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls.  But John always was a fool, and always will be.  When will you start, Beth?”

“To-morrow morning.  There’s nothing to keep me.  I’ll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail.”

“Are you glad?” asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously.

“Yes,” returned Beth, as if considering her reply; “a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst.  So I think I am pleased to go to Europe.”

Mrs. De Graf sighed.  There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman’s fault.  She had never tried to understand her child’s complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth’s youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair.  For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish.  It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months.

The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station.  In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye.  He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time.  Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time.

The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents.  It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different.