"I did, for one," said Miss Vanderwall, flicking the ashes from

her cigarette with a well-groomed fingertip. "Clarence

Breckenridge never was in love but once in his life--no, I don't

mean with Paula. I mean with Billy." And as a general nodding of

heads confirmed this theory, the speaker went on decidedly: "Since

that child was born she's been all the world to him. When he and

Paula were divorced--she was the offender--he fretted himself sick

for fear he'd done that precious five-year-old an injury. She

didn't get on with her grandmother, she drove governesses insane,

for two or three years there was simply no end of trouble. Finally

he took her abroad, for the excellent reason that she wanted to

go. In Paris they ran into Rachael Fairfax and her mother--let's

see, that was seven years ago. Rachael was only about twenty-one

or two then. But she'd been out since she was sixteen. She had the

bel air, she was beautiful--not as pretty as she is now, perhaps--

and of course her father was dead, and Rachael was absolutely on

the make. She took both Clarence and Billy in hand. I understand

the child was wearing jewelry and staying up until all hours every

night. Rachael mothered her, and of course the child came to

admire her. The funny thing is that Rachael and Billy hit it off

very well to this day.

"She and Clarence were married quietly, and came home. And I don't

think it was weeks, it was DAYS--and not many days--later, that

Rachael realized what a fool she'd been. Clarence had eyes for no

one but the girl, and of course she was a fascinating little

creature, and she's more fascinating every year."

"She's not as attractive as Rachael at that," said Peter Pomeroy.

"I know, my dear Peter," Miss Vanderwall assented quickly. "But

Billy's impulsive, and affectionate, at least, and Rachael is

neither. Anyway, Billy's at the age now when she can't think of

anything but herself. Her frocks, her parties, her friends--that's

all Clarence cares about!"

"Selfish ass!" said a man's voice in the firelight.

"I KNOW Clarence takes Carol and her friends off on week-end

trips," some woman said, "and leaves Rachael at home. If Rachael

wants the car, she has to ask them their plans. If she accepts a

dinner invitation, why, Clarence may drop out the last moment

because Carol's going to dine alone at home and wants her Daddy."

"Rachael's terribly decent about it," said the deep voice of old

Mrs. Torrence, who was chaperoning a grandson, glad of any excuse

to be at the club. "Upon my word I wouldn't be! She will breakfast

upstairs many a morning because Clarence likes Carol to pour his

coffee. And when that feller comes home tipsy--"




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