tion and excellent taste. But it might have made a difference in Jean's life if he had encountered a mother less wise than yourself."
"I don't know whether I'm being wise or not. I believe in him and I want Sybil to escape."
Olivia understood that for the first time they were discussing the thing which none of them ever mentioned, the thing which up to now Sabine had only touched upon by insinuation. Sabine had turned away and stood looking out of the window across the meadows where the distant trees danced in waves of heat.
"You spoiled my summer a bit, Olivia dear, by taking away my Irish friend from me."
Suddenly Olivia was angry as she was angry sometimes at the meddling of Aunt Cassie. "I didn't take him away. I did everything possible to avoid him . . . until you came. It was you who threw us together. That's why we're all in a tangle now." And she kept thinking what a strange woman Sabine Callendar really was, how intricate and unfathomable. She knew of no other woman in the world who could talk thus so dispassionately, so without emotion.
"I thought I'd have him to amuse," she was saying, "and instead of that he only uses me as a confidante. He comes to me for advice about another woman. And that, as you know, isn't very interesting. . . ."
Olivia sat suddenly erect. "What does he say? What right has he to do such a thing?"
"Because I've asked him to. When I first came here, I promised to help him. You see, I'm very friendly with you both. I want you both to be happy and . . . besides I can think of nothing happening which could give me greater pleasure."
When Olivia did not answer her, she turned from the
