Martha was not so much a problem, and little Katharine was still baby enough to be a joy to the whole house.  But between the children’s meals, their shoes and hats and lessons, Alice was a busy woman, and she realized that her responsibilities must increase rather than lessen in the next few years.  When Mary was married, and Gogo finishing college, and Martha ready to be entertained and chaperoned by her big sister, then she and George might take Kittiwake and run away; but not now.

Rachael formed the habit of calling at the Valentine house through the wet winds of March and April, coming in upon Alice at all hours, sometimes with the boys, sometimes alone.  Alice, in her quiet way, was ready to open her heart completely to her brilliant friend.  Rachael spoke of all topics except one to Alice.  They discussed houses and maids, the children, books and plays and plans for the summer, birth and death, the approaching responsibility of the vote, philosophies and religions, saints and sages.  And the day came when Rachael spoke of Warren and of Margaret Clay.

It was a quiet, wet spring afternoon, a day when the coming of green leaves could be actually felt in the softened air.  The two women were upstairs in Alice’s white and blue sitting-room enjoying a wood fire.  Jim and Derry were in the playroom with Kittiwake; the house was silent, so silent that they could hear the drumming of rain on the leads, and the lazy purr of the fire.

Alice was first incredulous, and then stunned at the story.

Rachael told all she knew, the change in her husband, the opening night of “The Bad Little Lady,” her lonely dinners and evenings, and Magsie’s complacent attitude of possession.

“Well,” said Alice, who had been an absorbed and astounded listener, when she finished, “I confess I don’t understand it!  If Warren Gregory is making a fool of himself over Margaret Clay, no one is going to be as much ashamed as he is when he is over it.  I think with you,” Alice added, much in earnest, “that as far as any actual infidelity goes, neither one would be capable of it!  Magsie’s a selfish little featherhead, but she has her own advantage too close at heart, and Warren, no matter what preposterous theory he has to explain his interest in Magsie, isn’t going to actually do anything that would put him in the wrong!” She paused, but Rachael did not speak, and something in her aspect, as she sat steadily watching the fire, smote Alice to the heart.  “I have never been so shocked and so disappointed in my life!” Alice went on, “I can’t yet believe it!  The only thing you can do is keep quiet and dignified, and wait for the whole thing to wear itself out.  This explains the change between George and Warren.  I knew George suspected something from the way he tried to shut me up when I saw Warren the other night at the theatre.”

“Now that I’ve talked about it,” Rachael smiled, “I believe I feel better!” And presently she dried her eyes, and even laughed at herself a little as she and Alice fell to talking of other things.  When Rachael, a boy in each hand, said good-bye, and went out into the pale, late afternoon sunshine that followed the rain, Alice accompanied her to the door, and stood for a moment with her at the top of the street steps.