CHAPTER XI
THE WHITE MAIDEN
Bettina, lonely in her tower, had often looked across enviously to the brilliantly lighted yacht club on the nights of the weekly dances.
And now she was going to a yacht club dance with Justin in attendance, and with Sophie for chaperon; with Sara and Doris and Sara's brother Duke to be added to the party when they reached the club-house pier.
The question of Bettina's gown had been a puzzling one. Sophie had brought out everything of her own, and Diana, white-faced after a sleepless night, had tried to put her mind on the matter.
"These are all too elaborate," she said; "she is such a child. Perhaps it will be best for her to get some new things now, and if you will help her choose them, it will be a great favor to me, Sophie."
Sophie came over and kissed her. "Poor dear," she murmured.
Diana leaned back against her friend. "Don't," she said in a stifled voice. "I can't bear it."
They clung together for a moment, then Diana went on steadily, "I am going to town for a few days, Sophie—I must get away for a bit, and if you don't mind, you can take Bettina in while I am gone and get her things. She insists that they shall not be gifts from me. She says that she's already under great obligations—and that her own little bank account is sufficient for her needs. Then, too, she can use all of her new things in her trousseau, and it does seem rather sensible, doesn't it?"