Diana abandoned her childish attitude.

She drew herself together, and sat upright on the edge of the sofa.

The color had come flooding back hotly into her cheeks, and the slightly frowning look produced by the effort to see the face before her distinctly gave a peculiar intensity to the eyes.
"Fanny, please!--you must tell me why!" The tone, resolute, yet appealing, put Fanny in an evident embarrassment.
"Well, I can't," she said, after a moment--"so it's no good asking me." Then suddenly, she hesitated--"or--at least--" "At least what?
Please go on." Fanny wriggled again, then said, with a burst: "Well, my mother was Aunt Sparling's younger sister--you know that--don't you?
--" "Of course." "And our grandfather died a year before Aunt Sparling.

She was mother's trustee.

Oh, the money's all right--the trust money, I mean," said the girl, hastily.