cult for Karen. But it is quite obvious to
me that he hates the whole situation."

"I hope not," said Mrs. Forrester, gravely now. "I hope not. It would be
tragical indeed if this last close relation in Mercedes's life were to
be spoiled for her. I could not forgive Gregory if he made it difficult
in any way for Karen to be with her guardian."

"Well, as long as he can conceal his jealousy, Mercedes will manage, I
suppose, to keep things smooth. But I can't see it as you do, Mrs.
Forrester. I can't believe for a moment that Mercedes needs Karen or
that the tie is such a close one. She only likes to see her now because
she is bored and impatient and unhappy, and Karen is--she said it just
now, before the girl--a poultice for her nerves. And the reason for her
nerves isn't far to seek. I must be frank with you, dear Mrs. Forrester;
you know I always have been, and I'm distressed, deeply distressed about
Mercedes. She expected Claude Drew to be back from America by now and I
heard yesterday from that horrid young friend of his, Algernon Bently,
that he has again postponed his return. It's that that agonizes and
infuriates Mercedes, it's that that makes her unwilling to be alone with
me. I've seen too much; I know too much; she fears me, Mrs. Forrester.
She knows that I know that Claude Drew is punishing her now for having
snubbed him in America."

"My dear Eleanor," Mrs. Forrester murmured distressfully. "You
exaggerate that young man's significance."

"Dear Mrs. Forrester," Miss Scrotton returned, almost now with a solemn
exasperation, "I wish it were possible to exaggerate it. I watched it
grow. His very effrontery fascinates her. We know, you and I, what
Mercedes expects in devotion from a man who cares for her. They must
adore her on their knees. Now Mr. Drew adored standing nonchalantly on
his feet and looking coolly into her eyes. She resented it; she had
constantly to put him in his place. But she would rather have him out of
his place than not have him there at all. That is what she is feeling
now. That is why she is so worn out. She is wishing that Claude Drew
would come back from America, and she is wanting to write one letter to
his ten and finding that she writes five. He writes to her constantly, I
suppose?"

"I believe he does," Mrs. Forrester conceded. "Mercedes is quite open
about the frequency of his letters. I am sure that you exaggerate,
Eleanor. He interests her, and he charms her if you will. Like