oft knows and his wife knows and Miss Fowler knows, why the
deuce should we bother our heads about it? Last night I heard the
Medcroft infant bawling its lungs out--teething, I daresay--but did I go
in and take a hand in straightening out the poor little beggar? Not I.
By the same token, why should I or anybody else presume to step in and
try to straighten out the troubles of its parents? It's useless
interference, either way you take it."

"I think it's all very entertaining and diverting," said Mrs.
Odell-Carney carelessly. She yawned.

"Do you really think so?" asked the doubting Mrs. Rodney. "I was so
afraid you'd mind. Your position in society, my dear Mrs.--"

"My position in society, Mrs. Rodney, can weather the tempest you
predict," said Mrs. Odell-Carney with a smile that went to Mrs. Rodney's
marrow.

"Oh, if--if you really don't mind--" she mumbled apologetically.

"Not at all, my dear madam," remarked Odell-Carney, carefully adjusting
his eyeglass. "It's quite immaterial, I assure you."

CHAPTER VI

OTHER RELATIONS

It is but natural to presume, after the foregoing, that the affairs of
the Medcrofts were under close and careful scrutiny from that
confidential hour. The Odell-Carneys were conspicuously nice and
agreeable to the Medcrofts and Miss Fowler. It may be said, indeed, that
Mr. Odell-Carney went considerably out of his way to be agreeable to
Mrs. Medcroft; so much so, in fact, that she made it a point to have
someone else with her whenever she seemed likely to be left alone with
him. The Rodneys struggled bravely and no doubt conscientiously to
emulate the example set by the Odell-Carneys, but it was hardly to be
expected that they could see new things through old-world eyes. They
grew very stiff and ceremonious,--that is, the Rodney ladies did. It was
their prerogative, of course: were they not cousins of the diseased?

Four or five days of uneasy pretence passed with a swiftness that
irritated certain members of the party and a slowness that distressed
the others. Days never were so short as those which the now recklessly
infatuated Brock was spending. He was valiantly earning his way into the
heart of Constance,--a process that tried his patience exceedingly, for
she was blithely unimpressionable, if one were to judge by the calmness
with which she fended off the inevitable though tardy assault. She kept
him at arm's length; appearances demanded a discreetness, no matter how
she