With a scornful sweep of her garments she left him, and he found his way out of the house more like a man in a dream than in a reality. He could hardly believe that what she had told him was true--that Diana--his daughter Diana, was alive after all! He wondered what effect the news would have on his wife? After so much “mourning” and expressions of “terrible shock,”--the whole drowning business was turned into something of a comedy! “Miss Lansing ought to be ashamed of herself!” he thought, indignantly. “A regular hypocrite! Why, she wrote a letter of sympathy and ‘deep sorrow’ for the loss of her ‘darling Diana!’ Disgraceful! And if the story is true and Diana has really run away from us, we should be perfectly justified in disowning her!” Full of mingled anger and bewilderment he decided to go and see the “adventuress” known as Diana May and tell her all. She would not, he thought, pretend any longer to be his daughter if she knew that his daughter was living. He found her in the loveliest of “rest gowns,” reclining on a sofa with a book in her hand,--she scarcely stirred from her attitude of perfect ease as he entered, except to turn her head round on her satin pillow and smile at him. Quite unnerved by that smile, he sat down beside her and taking her hand raised it to his lips. “What a gallant little Pa it is!” she observed, lazily. “I wonder what ‘Ma’ would say if she saw you!” He put on an air of mild severity. “My dear girl,” he said. “I wish you would stop all this nonsense and be sensible! I have heard some news to-day which ought to put an end to your pretending to be what you are not. My daughter--my real daughter Diana--is alive.” Diana laughed. “Of course! Very much so! I should not be here if she were not. Do I seem dead?” He made a gesture of impatience. “Tut, tut! If you _will_ persist----” “Naturally I will persist!” she said, sitting up on the sofa, her delicate laces falling about her like a cloud and her fair head lifted like that of a pictured angel--“I _am_ Diana! I suppose you’ve been seeing Sophy Lansing--she’s the only living being who knows my story and even she doesn’t recognise me now. But I can’t help _her_ obstinacy, or _yours_! I _am_ Diana!” “_My_ daughter,” said Mr. May, with emphasis--“is in Geneva----” “_Was_,” interrupted Diana. “And _is_--here!” Mr. May gave a groan of utter despair. “No use--no use!” he said. “One might as well argue with the wind as with one of these mentally obsessed persons! Perfectly hopeless!--hopeless----!” Diana sprang off her sofa and stood erect, confronting him.