vulgar--and the plain truth was vulgar! How it rang in Mary Vertrees's
ears! The clear mirror had caught its own image clearly in the flawed
one at last.

Sibyl put forth her best bid to clench the matter. She offered her
bargain. "Now don't you worry," she said, sunnily, "about this setting
Edith against you. She'll get over it after a while, anyway, but if she
tried to be spiteful and make it uncomfortable for you when you drop in
over there, or managed so as to sort of leave you out, why, I've got a
house, and Jim likes to come there. I don't THINK Edith WOULD be that
way; she's too crazy to have you take her around with the smart crowd,
but if she DID, you needn't worry. And another thing--I guess you won't
mind Jim's own sister-in-law speaking of it. Of course, I don't know
just how matters stand between you and Jim, but Jim and Roscoe are about
as much alike as two brothers can be, and Roscoe was very slow making up
his mind; sometimes I used to think he actually never WOULD. Now, what
I mean is, sisters-in-law can do lots of things to help matters on like
that. There's lots of little things can be said, and lots--"

She stopped, puzzled. Mary Vertrees had gone from pale to scarlet, and
now, still scarlet indeed, she rose, without a word of explanation, or
any other kind of word, and walked slowly to the open door and out of
the room.

Sibyl was a little taken aback. She supposed Mary had remembered
something neglected and necessary for the instruction of a servant, and
that she would return in a moment; but it was rather a rude excess of
absent-mindedness not to have excused herself, especially as her guest
was talking. And, Mary's return being delayed, Sibyl found time to think
this unprefaced exit odder and ruder than she had first considered it.
There might have been more excuse for it, she thought, had she been
speaking of matters less important--offering to do the girl all the
kindness in her power, too!

Sibyl yawned and swung her muff impatiently; she examined the sole of
her shoe; she decided on a new shape of heel; she made an inventory
of the furniture of the room, of the rugs, of the wall-paper and
engravings. Then she looked at her watch and frowned; went to a window
and stood looking out upon the brown lawn, then came back to the chair
she had abandoned, and sat again. There was no sound in the house.

A strange expression began imperceptibly to alter the planes of her
face, and slowly she grew