But later in the summer she realized that Belvedere Bay was smiling quietly at her bride-like infatuation, and she resented it deeply.  The discovery came about on a lazy summer afternoon when several women, Rachael among them, were enjoying gossip and iced drinks on the Parmalees’ porch.  Rachael had been talking of the emeralds that Warren was having reset for her, and chanced to observe that Tiffany’s man had said that Warren’s taste in jewelry was astonishing.

“Rachael,” yawned little Vivian Sartoris, “for heaven’s sake talk about something else than Warren?”

“I talk about him because I like him!” Rachael said.  “Better than anybody else in the world.”

“And he likes you better than anybody else in the world, I suppose?” Vivian said idly.

“He says so,” Rachael answered with a demure smile.  “Then that settles it!” Vivian laughed.  But she and several of her intimates fell into low conversation, and the older women were presently interrupted by Vivian’s voice again.  “Rachael!” she challenged, “Katrina says that she knows somebody Warren likes as well as he does you!”

“I did not!” protested Katrina, scarlet-cheeked and giggling, giving Vivian, who sat next her on the wide tiled steps, a violent push.

“Oh, you did, too!” one of the group exclaimed.

Katrina murmured something unintelligible.

“Well, that’s the same thing!” Vivian assured her promptly.  “She says now that Warren did like her as well, Rachael!”

“Well, don’t tell me who it is, and break my heart!” Rachael warned them.  But her old sense of humor so far failed her that she could not help adding curiously, “If Warren ever cared for anybody else, he’ll tell me!”

There was a general burst of laughter, and Rachael colored.

“No, it’s nobody,” Katrina said hastily.  “It’s only idiocy!” She and the other girls laughed in a suppressed fashion for some time.  Finally, to Rachael’s secret relief, Gertrude Whittaker energetically demanded the secret.  More giggling ensued.  Then Katrina agreed that she would whisper it in Mrs. Whittaker’s ear, which she did.  Rachael saw Gertrude color and look puzzled for a second, then she laughed scornfully.

“What geese girls are!  I never heard anything so silly!” Gertrude said.  Several hours later she told Rachael.

She did not tell her without some hesitation.  It was so silly—­it was just like that scatter-brained Katrina, she said.  Rachael, proudly asserting that nothing Katrina said would make any difference to her, nevertheless urged the confidence.

“Well, it’s nothing,” Gertrude said at last.  “This is what Katrina said:  she said that Warren Gregory had liked Rachael Breckenridge as well as he liked Rachael Gregory!  That was all.”

Rachael looked puzzled in turn for a minute.  Then she smiled proudly, and colored.

“But that’s not true,” she said presently.  “For I have never seen a man change as much since marriage as Warren!  It’s still a perfect miracle to him.  He says himself that he gets happier and happier—­”