nd
referred to the couple as lovers; no one seemed to doubt it--nor to
resent it, which is proof that the world loves a lover when it
recognises him as one.

Mrs. Rodney also discovered that Mrs. Medcroft went to her room at nine
o'clock, at least three hours before the subdued tete-a-tete came to an
end. The poor thing doubtless was crying her eyes out, decided Mrs.
Rodney.

And now, after all this, is it to be considered surprising that the
distressed mother of Katherine did not sleep well that night? Nor should
her wakefulness be laid at the door of the tired Mr. Rodney, who was
ever a firm and stentorian sleeper.

Morning came, and with it a horseback ride for Brock and Miss Fowler.
That was enough for Mrs. Rodney; she would hold in no longer. Mrs.
Odell-Carney must be told; she, at least, must have the chance to escape
before the storm of scandal broke to muddy her immaculate skirts.
Forthwith the considerate hostess appeared before her guest with a
headful of disclosures. She had decided in advance that it would not do
to beat about the bush, so to speak; she would come directly to the
obnoxious point.

They were in Mrs. Odell-Carney's sitting-room. Mr. Odell-Carney was
smoking a cigaret on the balcony, just outside the window. Mrs. Rodney
did not know that he was there. It is only natural that he held himself
inhospitably aloof: Mrs. Rodney bored him to death. He did not hear all
that was poured out between them, but he heard quite enough to cause him
something of a pang. He distinctly heard his wife say things to Mrs.
Rodney that she had solemnly avowed she would not say,--things about the
Medcroft baby.

It goes without saying that Mrs. Odell-Carney refused to be surprised by
the disclosures. She calmly admitted that she had suspected Medcroft of
being too fond of his sister-in-law, but, she went on cheerfully, why
not? His wife didn't care a rap for him--she _said_ rap and nothing
else; Mrs. Medcroft had an affair of her own, dear child; she was not so
slow as Mrs. Rodney thought, oh, no. Mrs. Odell-Carney warmed up
considerably in defending the not-to-be-pitied Edith. She said she had
liked her from the beginning, and more than ever, now that she had
really come to the conclusion that her husband was the kind who sets his
wife an example by being a bit divaricating himself.

Mrs. Rodney fairly screeched with horror when she heard that Tootles was
"a poor little beggar," and "all that sort of thing, yo