r him to be living in this comparative
obscurity," he observed, half to himself. "I daresay he's comfortable
enough, still, after the Ritzes and the Carltons..."

"I heard him tell the doctor a fortnight ago that he was absolutely
stony, so I suppose that accounts for it. He was going to sell his
car."

"Oh, I see!"

Indeed, Roger saw more than he would have cared to disclose. He felt
nearly sure now of what he had at first only dimly suspected, namely,
that Therese had been supplying Arthur with funds. He could comprehend
now his stepmother's rage at being summarily cut down, as clearly as he
understood the reasons back of Holliday's projected removal to the
Argentine. The conclusions he was coming to appeared to him sordid and
humiliating. He hoped his father had no suspicion of the truth.

They had reached the Villa Firenze; the car purred up the gravel drive
under the curving branches of the acacias.

"I'm glad you asked me to come," Esther said sincerely as she alighted.
"I feel like another person."

"So do I."

He looked at her gravely and for a longer space than the occasion
demanded. Again there was the sense of pleasant confusion within her
as she raced up the stairs to her room, a smile played about her lips,
her pulse beat quickly. She had forgotten the matter that had been in
her thoughts ever since she had entered the doctor's dining-room, but
once she had closed her door it came back to her. That cigarette-tip
with its scarlet edge uncurled--had her companion associated it with
anyone in particular? She wondered. Opening her bag, she shook out
the tiny hairpin she had picked up off the floor. So few hairpins were
used at all these days of shingled heads ... yet she had recently seen
one identical with this. It was Lady Clifford who used it to anchor
into position her big wavy lock of hair.

"She was there last night, I am sure of it," Esther said to herself as
she threw off her hat and coat. "It was quite safe, Jacques was away.
I'm the only person who knows, and that by the merest accident....
Well, it's just as well for her it isn't some malicious person. She's
all right in my hands."

How odd it seemed to think that she, a stranger, should know more about
Lady Clifford than her own family! Or perhaps it wasn't so strange
after all. One's family was often the last to know things, its
ignorance was proverbial. She felt a sudden wave of pity for the old
man, lying ill and uns