“As for me,” Mrs. Breckenridge said, nettled by her sister-in-law’s attitude, and mischievously interested in the effect of her thunderbolt, “I’m just desperately tired of it.  I can’t see that I’m doing Clarence, or Billy, or myself, any good!  I’d like to resign, and let somebody else try for a while!”

Steel leaped into Mrs. Haviland’s light-blue eyes.  She felt the shock in every fibre of body and soul, but she flung herself gallantly into the charge.  Her large form straightened, her expression achieved a certain remoteness.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked sharply.

“The usual thing, I suppose,” Rachael answered indifferently.

The older woman, watching her closely, essayed a brief, dry laugh.

“Don’t talk absurdities,” she said boldly.  But Rachael saw the uneasiness under the assured manner, and smiled to herself.

“It’s not absurd at all,” she protested, still with her smiling, half-negligent air; “I’ve put it off years longer than most women would; now I’m getting rather tired.”

“It’s a great mistake to talk that way, whether you mean it or not,” Mrs. Haviland said, after an uncomfortable moment, during which her face flushed, and her breath began to come rather fast.  “But you’re joking, of course; you’re too sensible to take any step that would only plunge you into fresh difficulties.  Clarence is very trying, I know—­we all know that—­but let’s try to face the situation sensibly, and not fly off the handle like this!  Why, Rachael dear, I can hardly believe it’s your cool-headed, reasonable self talking,” she went on more quietly.  “Don’t—­don’t even think about it!  In the first place, you couldn’t get it!”

“Oh, yes, I could.  Clarence wouldn’t contest it,” Rachael said.  “He’d agree to anything to be rid of me.  If not—­if he wouldn’t agree to my filing suit under the New York law, I could establish my residence in California or Nevada, and bring suit there. ...”

Mrs. Haviland gasped.

“Give up your home and your car and your maids for some small hotel?” she questioned, with her favorite air of neatly placing her fingertip upon the weak spot in her opponent’s armor.  “No clubs, no dinners, none of your old friends—­have you thought of that?”

“You may imagine that I’ve thought of it from a good many angles, Florence,” Rachael said coldly, finding that what had been a mere drifting idea was beginning to take rather definite form in her mind.  It was delightful to see the usually complacent and domineering Florence so agitated and at a loss.

“I never dreamed—­” Mrs. Haviland mused dazedly.  “How long, in Heaven’s name, have you been thinking about it?”

“Oh, quite some time,” said Rachael.

“Well, it’s awful!” the other woman said.  “It’ll make the most awful—­and as if poor Clarence hadn’t been all through it all once!  I declare it makes me sick!  But I can’t believe you’re serious.  Rachael, think—­think what it means!”