Louise laughed merrily.
"How funny!" she exclaimed, after a moment during which Beth frowned at her darkly. "Why, my dear cousin, I don't want Aunt Jane's money."
"You don't?"
"Not a penny of it; nor Elmhurst; nor anything you can possibly lay claim to, my dear. My mother and I are amply provided for, and I am only here to find rest from my social duties and to get acquainted with my dead father's sister. That is all."
"Oh!" said Beth, lying back in her chair with a sigh of relief.
"So it was really a splendid idea of yours to be frank with me at our first meeting," continued Louise, cheerfully; "for it has led to your learning the truth, and I am sure you will never again grieve me by suggesting that I wish to supplant you in Aunt Jane's favor. Now tell me something about yourself and your people. Are you poor?"
"Poor as poverty," said Beth, gloomily. "My father teaches music, and mother scolds him continually for not being able to earn enough money to keep out of debt."
"Hasn't Aunt Jane helped you?"
"We've never seen a cent of her money, although father has tried at times to borrow enough to help him out of his difficulties."
"That's strange. She seems like such a dear kindly old lady," said
Louise, musingly.