III + 

She was wakened early, after having slept badly, with the news that Michael had been kept in Boston the night before and would not be able to ride with her as usual. When the maid had gone away she grew depressed, for she had counted upon seeing him and coming to some definite plan. For a moment she even experienced a vague jealousy, which she put away at once as shameful. It was not, she told herself, that he ever neglected her; it was only that he grew more and more occupied as the autumn approached. It was not that there was any other woman involved; she felt certain of him. And yet there remained that strange, gnawing little suspicion placed in her mind when John Pentland had said, вАЬHeвАЩs a clever Irishman on the makeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and such gentlemen need watching.вАЭ + 

After all, she knew nothing of him save what he had chosen to tell her. He was a free man, independent, a buccaneer, who could do as he chose in life. Why should he ruin himself for her? + 

She rose at last, determined to ride alone, in the hope that the fresh morning air and the exercise would put to rout this cloud of morbidity which had kept possession of her from the moment she left John Pentland in the library. + 

As she dressed, she thought, вАЬDay after tomorrow I shall be forty years old. Perhaps thatвАЩs the reason why I feel tired and morbid. Perhaps IвАЩm on the borderland of middle-age. But that canвАЩt be. I am strong and well and I look young, despite everything. I am tired because of what happened last night.вАЭ And then it occurred to her that perhaps Mrs.¬†Soames had known these same thoughts again and again during her long devotion to John Pentland. вАЬNo,вАЭ she told herself, вАЬwhatever happens I shall never lead the life she has led. Anything is better than thatвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ anything.вАЭ + 

It seemed strange to her to awaken and find that nothing was changed in all the world about her. After what had happened the night before in the library and on the dark meadows, there should have been some mark left upon the life at Pentlands. The very house, the very landscape, should have kept some record of what had happened; and yet everything was the same. She experienced a faint shock of surprise to find the sun shining brightly, to see Higgins in the stable-yard saddling her horse and whistling all the while in an excess of high spirits, to hear the distant barking of the beagles, and to see Sybil crossing the meadow toward the river to meet Jean. Everything was the same, even Higgins, whom she had mistaken for a ghost as he crossed the mist-hung meadows a few hours earlier. It was as if there were two realities at PentlandsвБ†вАФone, it might have been said, of the daylight and the other of the darkness; as if one lifeвБ†вАФa secret, hidden oneвБ†вАФlay beneath the bright, pleasant surface of a world composed of green fields and trees, the sound of barking dogs, the faint odor of coffee arising from the kitchen, and the sound of a groom whistling while he saddled a thoroughbred. It was a misfortune that chance had given her an insight into both the bright, pleasant world and that other dark, nebulous one. The others, save perhaps old John Pentland, saw only this bright, easy life that had begun to stir all about her. + 

And she reflected that a stranger coming to Pentlands would find it a pleasant, comfortable house, where the life was easy and even luxurious, where all of them were protected by wealth. He would find them all rather pleasant, normal, friendly people of a family respected and even distinguished. He would say, вАЬHere is a world that is solid and comfortable and sound.вАЭ + 

Yes, it would appear thus to a stranger, so it might be that the dark, fearful world existed only in her imagination. Perhaps she herself was ill, a little unbalanced and morbidвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ perhaps a little touched like the old woman in the north wing. + 

Still, she thought, most houses, most families, must have such double livesвБ†вАФone which the world saw and one which remained hidden. + 

As she pulled on her boots she heard the voice of Higgins, noisy and cheerful, exchanging amorous jests with the new Irish kitchen-maid, marking her already for his own. + 

She rode listlessly, allowing the mare to lead through the birch thicket over the cool dark paths which she and Michael always followed. The morning air did not change her spirits. There was something sad in riding alone through the long green tunnel. + 

When at last she came out on the opposite side by the patch of catnip where they had encountered Miss Peavey, she saw a Ford drawn up by the side of the road and a man standing beside it, smoking a cigar and regarding the engine as if he were in trouble. She saw no more than that and would have passed him without troubling to look a second time, when she heard herself being addressed. + 

вАЬYouвАЩre Mrs.¬†Pentland, arenвАЩt you?вАЭ + 

She drew in the mare. вАЬYes, IвАЩm Mrs.¬†Pentland.вАЭ + 

He was a little man, dressed rather too neatly in a suit of checkered stuff, with a high, stiff white collar which appeared to be strangling him. He wore nose-glasses and his face had a look of having been highly polished. As she turned, he took off his straw hat and with a great show of manners came forward, bowing and smiling cordially. + 

вАЬWell,вАЭ he said, вАЬIвАЩm glad to hear that IвАЩm right. I hoped I might meet you here. ItвАЩs a great pleasure to know you, Mrs.¬†Pentland. My name is Gavin.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩm by way of being a friend of Michael OвАЩHara.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh!вАЭ said Olivia. вАЬHow do you do?вАЭ + 

вАЬYouвАЩre not in a great hurry, I hope?вАЭ he asked. вАЬIвАЩd like to have a word or two with you.вАЭ + 

вАЬNo, IвАЩm not in a great hurry.вАЭ + 

It was impossible to imagine what this fussy little man, standing in the middle of the road, bowing and smiling, could have to say to her. + 

Still holding his hat in his hand, he tossed away the end of his cigar and said, вАЬItвАЩs about a very delicate matter, Mrs.¬†Pentland. It has to do with Mr.¬†OвАЩHaraвАЩs campaign. I suppose you know about that. YouвАЩre a friend of his, I believe?вАЭ + 

вАЬWhy, yes,вАЭ she said coldly. вАЬWe ride together.вАЭ + 

He coughed and, clearly ill at ease, set off on a tangent from the main subject. вАЬYou see, IвАЩm a great friend of his. In fact, we grew up togetherвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ lived in the same ward and fought together as boys. You mightnвАЩt think it to see us togetherвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ because heвАЩs such a clever one. HeвАЩs made for big things and IвАЩm not.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩmвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩm just plain John Gavin. But weвАЩre friends, all the same, just the same as everвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ just as if he wasnвАЩt a big man. ThatвАЩs one thing about Michael. He never goes back on his old friends, no matter how great he gets to be.вАЭ + 

A light of adoration shone in the blue eyes of the little man. It was, Olivia thought, as if he were speaking of God; only clearly he thought of Michael OвАЩHara as greater than God. If Michael affected men like this, it was easy to see why he was so successful. + 

The little man kept interrupting himself with apologies. вАЬI shanвАЩt keep you long, Mrs.¬†PentlandвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ only a moment. You see I thought it was better if I saw you here instead of coming to the house.вАЭ Suddenly screwing up his shiny face, he became intensely serious. вАЬItвАЩs like this, Mrs.¬†Pentland.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I know youвАЩre a good friend of his and you wish him well. You want to see him get electedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ even though you people out here donвАЩt hold much with the Democratic party.вАЭ + 

вАЬYes,вАЭ said Olivia. вАЬThatвАЩs true.вАЭ + 

вАЬWell,вАЭ he continued with a visible effort, вАЬMichaelвАЩs a good friend of mine. IвАЩm sort of a bodyguard to him. Of course, I never come out here. I donвАЩt belong in this world.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩd feel sort of funny out here.вАЭ + 

(Olivia found herself feeling respect for the little man. He was so simple and so honest and he so obviously worshiped Michael.) + 

вАЬYou seeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I know all about Michael. IвАЩve been through a great deal with himвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and heвАЩs not himself just now. ThereвАЩs something wrong. He ainвАЩt interested in his work. He acts as if heвАЩd be willing to chuck his whole career overboardвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and I canвАЩt let him do that. None of his friendsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ canвАЩt let him do it. We canвАЩt get him to take a proper interest in his affairs. Usually, he manages everythingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ better than anyone else could.вАЭ He became suddenly confidential, closing one eye. вАЬDвАЩyou know what I think is the matter? IвАЩve been watching him and IвАЩve got an idea.вАЭ + 

He waited until Olivia said, вАЬNoвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I havenвАЩt the least idea.вАЭ + 

Cocking his head on one side and speaking with the air of having made a great discovery, he said, вАЬWell, I think thereвАЩs a woman mixed up in it.вАЭ + 

She felt the blood mounting to her head, in spite of anything she could do. When she was able to speak, she asked, вАЬYes, and what am I to do?вАЭ + 

He moved a little nearer, still with the same air of confiding in her. вАЬWell, this is my idea. Now, youвАЩre a friend of hisвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ youвАЩll understand. You see, the trouble is that itвАЩs some woman here in DurhamвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ some swell, you see, like yourself. ThatвАЩs what makes it hard. HeвАЩs had women before, but they were women out of the ward and it didnвАЩt make much difference. But this is different. HeвАЩs all upset, andвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He hesitated for a moment. вАЬWell, I donвАЩt like to say a thing like this about Michael, but I think his head is turned a little. ThatвАЩs a mean thing to say, but then weвАЩre all human, arenвАЩt we?вАЭ + 

вАЬYes,вАЭ said Olivia softly. вАЬYesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ in the end, weвАЩre all humanвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ even swells like me.вАЭ There was a twinkle of humor in her eye which for a moment disconcerted the little man. + 

вАЬWell,вАЭ he went on, вАЬheвАЩs all upset about her and heвАЩs no good for anything. Now, what I thought was thisвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ that you could find out who this woman is and go to her and persuade her to lay off him for a timeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ to go away some placeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ at least until the campaign is over. ItвАЩd make a difference. DвАЩyou see?вАЭ + 

He looked at her boldly, as if what he had been saying was absolutely honest and direct, as if he really had not the faintest idea who this woman was, and beneath a sense of anger, Olivia was amused at the crude tact which had evolved this trick. + 

вАЬThereвАЩs not much that I can do,вАЭ she said. вАЬItвАЩs a preposterous ideaвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ but IвАЩll do what I can. IвАЩll try. I canвАЩt promise anything. It lies with Mr.¬†OвАЩHara, after all.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou see, Mrs.¬†Pentland, if it ever got to be a scandal, itвАЩd be the end of him. A woman out of the ward doesnвАЩt matter so much, but a woman out here would be different. SheвАЩd get a lot of publicity from the sassiety editors and all.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ThatвАЩs whatвАЩs dangerous. HeвАЩd have the whole church against him on the grounds of immorality.вАЭ + 

While he was speaking, a strange idea occurred to OliviaвБ†вАФthat much of what he said sounded like a strange echo of Aunt CassieвАЩs methods of argument. + 

The horse had grown impatient and was pawing the road and tossing his head; and Olivia was angry now, genuinely angry, so that she waited for a time before speaking, lest she should betray herself and spoil all this little game of pretense which Mr.¬†Gavin had built up to keep himself in countenance. At last she said, вАЬIвАЩll do what I can, but itвАЩs a ridiculous thing youвАЩre asking of me.вАЭ + 

The little man grinned. вАЬIвАЩve been a long time in politics, MaвАЩam, and IвАЩve seen funnier things than this.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He put on his hat, as if to signal that he had said all he wanted to say. вАЬBut thereвАЩs one thing IвАЩd like to askвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and thatвАЩs that you never let Michael know that I spoke to you about this.вАЭ + 

вАЬWhy should I promiseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ anything?вАЭ + 

He moved nearer and said in a low voice, вАЬYou know Michael very well, Mrs.¬†Pentland.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You know Michael very well, and you know that heвАЩs got a bad, quick temper. If he found out that we were meddling in his affairs, he might do anything. He might chuck the whole business and clear out altogether. HeвАЩs never been like this about a woman before. HeвАЩd do it just now.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ThatвАЩs the way heвАЩs feeling. You donвАЩt want to see him ruin himself any more than I doвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a clever man like Michael. Why, he might be president one of these days. He can do anything he sets his will to, MaвАЩam, but he is, as they say, temperamental just now.вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩll not tell him,вАЭ said Olivia quietly. вАЬAnd IвАЩll do what I can to help you. And now I must go.вАЭ She felt suddenly friendly toward Mr.¬†Gavin, perhaps because what he had been telling her was exactly what she wanted most at that moment to hear. She leaned down from her horse and held out her hand, saying, вАЬGood morning, Mr.¬†Gavin.вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Gavin removed his hat once more, revealing his round, bald, shiny head. вАЬGood morning, Mrs.¬†Pentland.вАЭ + 

As she rode off, the little man remained standing in the middle of the road looking after her until she had disappeared. His eye glowed with the light of admiration, but as Olivia turned from the road into the meadows, he frowned and swore aloud. Until now he hadnвАЩt understood how a good politician like Michael could lose his head over any woman. But he had an idea that he could trust this woman to do what she had promised. There was a look about herвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a look which made her seem different from most women; perhaps it was this look which had made a fool of Michael, who usually kept women in their proper places. + 

Grinning and shaking his head, he got into the Ford, started it with a great uproar, and set off in the direction of Boston. After he had gone a little way he halted again and got out, for in his agitation he had forgotten to close the hood. + 

From the moment she turned and rode away from Mr.¬†Gavin, Olivia gave herself over to action. She saw that there was need of more than mere static truth to bring order out of the hazy chaos at Pentlands; there must be action as well. And she was angry now, really angry, even at Mr.¬†Gavin for his impertinence, and at the unknown person who had been his informant. The strange idea that Aunt Cassie or Anson was somehow responsible still remained; tactics such as these were completely sympathetic to themвБ†вАФto go thus in Machiavellian fashion to a man like Gavin instead of coming to her. By using Mr.¬†Gavin there would be no scene, no definite unpleasantness to disturb the enchantment of Pentlands. They could go on pretending that nothing was wrong, that nothing had happened. + 

But stronger than her anger was the fear that in some way they might use the same tactics to spoil the happiness of Sybil. They would, she was certain, sacrifice everything to their belief in their own rightness. + 

She found Jean at the house when she returned, and, closing the door of the drawing-room, she said to him, вАЬJean, I want to talk to you for a momentвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ alone.вАЭ + 

He said at once, вАЬI know, Mrs.¬†Pentland. ItвАЩs about Sybil.вАЭ + 

There was a little echo of humor in his voice that touched and disarmed her as it always did. It struck her that he was still young enough to be confident that everything in life would go exactly as he wished it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

вАЬYes,вАЭ she said, вАЬthat was it.вАЭ They sat on two of Horace PentlandвАЩs chairs and she continued. вАЬI donвАЩt believe in meddling, Jean, only now there are circumstancesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ reasons.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She made a little gesture. вАЬI thought that if reallyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ really.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He interrupted her quickly. вАЬI do, Mrs.¬†Pentland. WeвАЩve talked it all over, Sybil and IвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and weвАЩre agreed. We love each other. WeвАЩre going to be married.вАЭ + 

Watching the young, ardent face, she thought, вАЬItвАЩs a nice face in which there is nothing mean or nasty. The lips arenвАЩt thin and tight like AnsonвАЩs, nor the skin sickly and pallid the way AnsonвАЩs has always been. ThereвАЩs life in it, and force and charm. ItвАЩs the face of a man who would be good to a womanвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a man not in the least cold-blooded.вАЭ + 

вАЬDo you love herвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ really?вАЭ she asked. + 

вАЬIвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs a thing I canвАЩt answer because there arenвАЩt words to describe it.вАЭ + 

вАЬBecauseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ wellвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Jean, itвАЩs no ordinary case of a mother and a daughter. ItвАЩs much more than that. It means more to me than my own happiness, my own lifeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ because, well, because Sybil is like a part of myself. I want her to be happy. ItвАЩs not just a simple case of two young people marrying. ItвАЩs much more than that.вАЭ There was a silence, and she asked, вАЬHow do you love her?вАЭ + 

He sat forward on the edge of his chair, all eagerness. вАЬWhyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ he began, stammering a little, вАЬI couldnвАЩt think of living without her. ItвАЩs different from anything I ever imagined. WhyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ weвАЩve planned everythingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ all our lives. If ever I lost her, it wouldnвАЩt matter what happened to me afterwards.вАЭ He grinned and added, вАЬBut you seeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ people have said all that before. There arenвАЩt any words to explainвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ to make it seem as different from anything else as it seems to me.вАЭ + 

вАЬBut youвАЩre going to take her away?вАЭ + 

вАЬYesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ she wants to go where I go.вАЭ + 

(вАЬThey are young,вАЭ thought Olivia. вАЬTheyвАЩve never once thought of anyone elseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ myself or SybilвАЩs grandfather.вАЭ) + 

Aloud she said, вАЬThatвАЩs right, Jean.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I want you to take her awayвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ no matter what happens, you must take her away.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ (вАЬAnd then I wonвАЩt even have Sybil.вАЭ) + 

вАЬWeвАЩre going to my ranch in the Argentine.вАЭ + 

вАЬThatвАЩs right.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I think Sybil would like that.вАЭ She sighed, in spite of herself, vaguely envious of these two. вАЬBut youвАЩre so young. How can you know for certain.вАЭ + 

A shadow crossed his face and he said, вАЬIвАЩm twenty-five, Mrs.¬†PentlandвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ but thatвАЩs not the only thing.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I was brought up, you see, among the FrenchвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ like a Frenchman. That makes a difference.вАЭ He hesitated, frowning for a moment. вАЬPerhaps I oughtnвАЩt to tell.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You mightnвАЩt understand. I know how things are in this part of the world.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You see, I was brought up to look upon falling in love as something naturalвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ something that was pleasant and natural and amusing. IвАЩve been in love before, casuallyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the way young Frenchmen areвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ but in earnest, too, because a Frenchman canвАЩt help surrounding a thing like that with sentiment and romance. He canвАЩt help it. If it were justвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ just something shameful and nasty, he couldnвАЩt endure it. They donвАЩt have affairs in cold bloodвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the way IвАЩve heard men talk about such things since IвАЩve come here. It makes a difference, Mrs.¬†Pentland, if you look at the thing in the light they do. ItвАЩs different here.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I see the difference more every day.вАЭ + 

He was talking earnestly, passionately, and when he paused for a moment she remained silent, unwilling to interrupt him until he had finished. + 

вАЬWhat IвАЩm trying to say is difficult, Mrs.¬†Pentland. ItвАЩs simply thisвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ that IвАЩm twenty-five, but IвАЩve had experience with life. DonвАЩt laugh! DonвАЩt think IвАЩm just a college boy trying to make you think IвАЩm a rou√©. Only what I say is true. I know about such thingsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and IвАЩm glad because it makes me all the more certain that Sybil is the only woman in the world for meвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the one for whom IвАЩd sacrifice everything. And IвАЩll know better how to make her happy, to be gentle with herвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ to understand her. IвАЩve learned now, and itвАЩs a thing which needs learningвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the most important thing in all life. The French are right about it. They make a fine, wonderful thing of love.вАЭ He turned away with a sudden air of sadness. вАЬPerhaps I shouldnвАЩt have told you all this.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩve told Sybil. She understands.вАЭ + 

вАЬNo,вАЭ said Olivia, вАЬI think youвАЩre rightвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ perhaps.вАЭ She kept thinking of the long tragic story of John Pentland, and of Anson, who had always been ashamed of love and treated it as something distasteful. To them it had been a dark, strange thing always touched by shame. She kept thinking, despite anything she could do, of AnsonвАЩs clumsy, artificial attempts at lovemaking, and she was swept suddenly by shame for him. Anson, so proud and supercilious, was a poor thing, inferior even to his own groom. + 

вАЬBut why,вАЭ she asked, вАЬdidnвАЩt you tell me about Sybil sooner? Everyone has seen it, but you never spoke to me.вАЭ + 

For a moment he did not answer her. An expression of pain clouded the blue eyes, and then, looking at her directly, he said, вАЬItвАЩs not easy to explain why. I was afraid to come to you for fear you mightnвАЩt understand, and the longer IвАЩve been here, the longer IвАЩve put it off becauseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ well, because here in Durham, ancestors, family, all that, seems to be the beginning and end of everything. It seems always to be a question of who oneвАЩs family is. There is only the past and no future at all. And, you see, in a wayвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I havenвАЩt any family.вАЭ He shrugged his big shoulders and repeated, вАЬIn a way, I havenвАЩt any family at all. You see, my mother was never married to my father.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩve no blood-right to the name of de Cyon. IвАЩmвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩmвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ well, just a bastard, and it seemed hopeless for me even to talk to a Pentland about Sybil.вАЭ + 

He saw that she was startled, disturbed, but he could not have known that the look in her eyes had very little to do with shock at what he had told her; rather she was thinking what a weapon the knowledge would be in the hands of Anson and Aunt Cassie and even John Pentland himself. + 

He was talking again with the same passionate earnestness. + 

вАЬI shanвАЩt let it make any difference, so long as Sybil will have me, but, you see, itвАЩs very hard to explain, because it isnвАЩt the way it seems. I want you to understand that my mother is a wonderful woman.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I wouldnвАЩt bother to explain, to say anythingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ except to Sybil and to you.вАЭ + 

вАЬSabine has told me about her.вАЭ + 

вАЬMrs.¬†Callendar has known her for a long time.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ TheyвАЩre great friends,вАЭ said Jean. вАЬShe understands.вАЭ + 

вАЬBut she never told meвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ that. You mean that sheвАЩs known it all along?вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs not an easy thing to tellвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ especially here in Durham, and I fancy she thought it might make trouble for meвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ after she saw what had happened to Sybil and me.вАЭ + 

He went on quickly, telling her what he had told Sybil of his motherвАЩs story, trying to make her understand what he understood, and Sabine and even his stepfather, the distinguished old de CyonвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ trying to explain a thing which he himself knew was not to be explained. He told her that his mother had refused to marry her lover, вАЬbecause in his life outsideвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the life which had nothing to do with herвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ she discovered that there were things she couldnвАЩt support. She saw that it was better not to marry himвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ better for herself and for him and, most of all, for me.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He did things for the sake of successвБ†вАФmean, dishonorable thingsвБ†вАФwhich she couldnвАЩt forgiveвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and so she wouldnвАЩt marry him. And now, looking back, I think she was right. It made no great difference in her life. She lived abroadвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ as a widow, and very few peopleвБ†вАФnot more than two or threeвБ†вАФever knew the truth. He never told because, being a politician, he was afraid of such a scandal. She didnвАЩt want me to be brought up under such an influence, and I think she was right. HeвАЩs gone on doing things that were mean and dishonorable.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ HeвАЩs still doing them today. You see heвАЩs a politicianвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a rather cheap one. HeвАЩs a Senator now and he hasnвАЩt changed. I could tell you his name.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I suppose some people would think him a distinguished manвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ only I promised her never to tell it. He thinks that IвАЩm dead.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He came to her once and asked to see me, to have a hand in my education and my future. There were things, he said, that he could do for me in AmericaвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and she told him simply that I was deadвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ that I was killed in the war.вАЭ He finished in a sudden burst of enthusiasm, his face alight with affection. вАЬBut you must know her really to understand what IвАЩve been saying. Knowing her, you understand everything, because sheвАЩs one of the great peopleвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the strong people of the world. You see, itвАЩs one of the things which it is impossible to explainвБ†вАФto you or even to SybilвБ†вАФimpossible to explain to the others. One must know her.вАЭ + 

If she had had any doubts or fears, she knew now that it was too late to act; she saw that it was impossible to change the wills of two such lovers as Jean and Sybil. In a way, she came to understand the story of JeanвАЩs mother more from watching him than by listening to his long explanation. There must be in her that same determination and ardor that was in her sonвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a thing in its way irresistible. And yet it was difficult; she was afraid, somehow, of this unexpected thing, perhaps because it seemed vaguely like the taint of Savina Pentland. + 

She said, вАЬIf no one knows this, there is no reason to tell it here. It would only make unhappiness for all concerned. It is your business aloneвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and SybilвАЩs. The others have no right to interfere, even to know; but they will try, JeanвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ unlessвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ unless you both do what you wantвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ quickly. Sometimes I think they might do anything.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou meanвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ he began impatiently. + 

Olivia fell back upon that vague hint which John Pentland had dropped to her the night before. She said, вАЬThere was once an elopement in the Pentland family.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou wouldnвАЩt mind that?вАЭ he asked eagerly. вАЬYou wouldnвАЩt be hurtвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ if we did it that way?вАЭ + 

вАЬI shouldnвАЩt know anything about it,вАЭ said Olivia quietly, вАЬuntil it was too late to do anything.вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs funny,вАЭ he said; вАЬweвАЩd thought of that. WeвАЩve talked of it, only Sybil was afraid youвАЩd want to have a big wedding and all that.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬNo, I think it would be better not to have any wedding at allвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ especially under the circumstances.вАЭ + 

вАЬMrs.¬†Callendar suggested it as the best way out.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ She offered to lend us her motor,вАЭ he said eagerly. + 

вАЬYou discussed it with her and yet you didnвАЩt speak to me?вАЭ + 

вАЬWell, you see, sheвАЩs differentвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ she and Th√©r√®se.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ They donвАЩt belong here in Durham. Besides, she spoke of it first. She knew what was going on. She always knows. I almost think that she planned the whole thing long ago.вАЭ + 

Olivia, looking out of the window, saw entering the long drive the antiquated motor with Aunt Cassie, Miss Peavey, her flying veils and her Pekinese. + 

вАЬMrs.¬†Struthers is comingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ she said. вАЬWe mustnвАЩt make her suspicious. And youвАЩd best tell me nothing of your plans and thenвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I shanвАЩt be able to interfere even if I wanted to. I might change my mindвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ one never knows.вАЭ + 

He stood up and, coming over to her, took her hand and kissed it. вАЬThereвАЩs nothing to say, Mrs.¬†PentlandвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ except that youвАЩll be glad for what youвАЩve done. You neednвАЩt worry about Sybil.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I shall make her happy.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I think I know how.вАЭ + 

He left her, hurrying away past the ancestors in the long hall to find Sybil, thinking all the while how odd it would seem to have a woman so young and beautiful as Mrs.¬†Pentland for a mother-in-law. She was a charming woman (he thought in his enthusiasm), a great woman, but she was so sad, as if she had never been very happy. There was always a cloud about her. + 

He did not escape quickly enough, for Aunt CassieвАЩs sharp eyes caught a glimpse of him as he left the house in the direction of the stables. She met Olivia in the doorway, kissing her and saying, вАЬWas that SybilвАЩs young man I saw leaving?вАЭ + 

вАЬYes,вАЭ said Olivia. вАЬWeвАЩve been talking about Sybil. IвАЩve been telling him that he mustnвАЩt think of her as someone to marry.вАЭ + 

The yellow face of Aunt Cassie lighted with a smile of approval. вАЬIвАЩm glad, my dear, that youвАЩre being sensible about this. I was afraid you wouldnвАЩt be, but I didnвАЩt like to interfere. I never believe any good comes of it, unless one is forced to. HeвАЩs not the person for Sybil.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Why, no one knows anything about him. You canвАЩt let a girl marry like thatвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ just anyone who comes along. Besides, Mrs.¬†Pulsifer writes me.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You remember her, Olivia, the Mannering boyвАЩs aunt who used to have a house in Chestnut Street.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Well, she lives in Paris now at the Hotel Continental, and she writes me sheвАЩs discovered thereвАЩs some mystery about his mother. No one seems to know much about her.вАЭ + 

вАЬWhy,вАЭ said Olivia, вАЬshould she write you such a thing? What made her think youвАЩd be interested?вАЭ + 

вАЬWell, Kate Pulsifer and I went to school together and we still correspond now and then. I just happened to mention the boyвАЩs name when I was writing her about Sabine. She says, by the way, that Sabine has very queer friends in Paris and that Sabine has never so much as called on her or asked her for tea. And thereвАЩs been some new scandal about SabineвАЩs husband and an Italian woman. It happened in Venice.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬBut heвАЩs not her husband any longer.вАЭ + 

The old lady seated herself and went on pouring forth the news from Kate PulsiferвАЩs letter; with each word she appeared to grow stronger and stronger, less and less yellow and worn. + 

(вАЬIt must be,вАЭ thought Olivia, вАЬthe effect of so many calamities contained in one letter.вАЭ) + 

She saw now that she had acted only just in time and she was glad that she had lied, so flatly, so abruptly, without thinking why she had done it. For Mrs.¬†Pulsifer was certain to go to the bottom of the affair, if for no other reason than to do harm to Sabine; she had once lived in a house on Chestnut Street with a bow-window which swept the entrance to every house. She was one of John PentlandвАЩs dead, who lived by watching others live. + 