“Stephen,” said Jane very solemnly, “this just can’t be. We’ve got to stop her.”
“You try,” said Stephen grimly.
Just then Jane heard the doorbell.
“I don’t want to see anyone, Irma!” she called to the waitress.
But when the front door opened, Jane heard Isabel’s voice. Her sister’s quick step crossed the hall.
“Jane!” she called sharply. “Jane! Stephen!”
Jane exchanged one long look with Stephen.
“This is going to be perfectly terrible,” she said. Then, “Here we are, Isabel!”
Isabel appeared in the living-room door. Her eyes were red and her worn, round face was swollen. She must have been crying all the way out from town in her car. She still held a damp little handkerchief, twisted into a tight, round ball in her hand.
“What did I tell you, Jane?” was the first thing she said.
“Isabel, darling,” said Jane, “come in and sit down and help us. We’re trying to decide what we must do.”
“What you must do!” cried Isabel. “You must stop Cicily!”
“How?” said Jane.
“I don’t care,” said Isabel, “as long as you stop her!” She sank down on a sofa near the fire. She looked accusingly up at Jane. “You know I saw what was coming, Jane. I warned you. But of course I never really knew—I never even imagined anything like this could happen until Belle came in this morning and told me all about it. It was dreadful, Jane, for Mamma was there. Belle never thought of her—of how, I mean, we’d have to break it to her. Belle’s like me—she speaks right out. And Mamma was awful, Jane. It was a terrible shock to her and she went all to pieces.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jane anxiously. “What did she do?”
“Talked,” said Isabel briefly. “She rather sought refuge in the old-time religion. She thinks Cicily’s damned—utterly damned. And she told Belle she was worse than Cicily for condoning sin, in cold blood. For letting Albert off, I mean. For going to Reno. And that knocked Belle up. She’d been very calm and controlled before. And she began to cry—she just cried her heart out, Jane! I had to send for Minnie to take Mamma away, so I could talk to Belle. And then Robin came home. He was utterly shattered. He’d just had the most awful, heartless interview with Albert in his office. About settlements, I mean, and horrible, final things like that. I’d just got Belle quiet, but that set her off again. She’s simply distracted, Jane—and we tried to get hold of Jack, but he wasn’t at the bank and he wasn’t out here in Lakewood. And I didn’t want any lunch, so I just left Belle with Robin and came straight to talk to you and Stephen. You must stop Cicily!” Isabel paused for breath.
“Poor—little—Belle,” said Stephen, slowly. “Poor young kid!”
“Isabel—” said Jane impulsively, then paused. After a moment she went on, however. “I think that’s very fine of Belle—to let Albert go, I mean. Do you know—does she—does she really love him?”
“Does she love him?” cried Isabel indignantly. “Of course she loves him! She married him, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” said Jane slowly. “She married him. But—”
“And she’s got three lovely children. Of course she loves him. And Jack loves Cicily. He really does, Jane, though I don’t see how he can. He loves her and he adores his babies and—”
“I know,” said Jane. “I know. I’d always count on Jack.”
“I just can’t realize it,” said Isabel. “A double scandal like this in our family! In our family, Jane. I feel as if it weren’t possible—as if I must be dreaming. When will you see Cicily?”
“Now,” said Jane. She rose decisively to her feet as she spoke. “Will you come, Stephen?”
Stephen shook his head very soberly.
“You’d get on better without me, Jane. I said my say to Cicily this morning. I don’t know that she’ll ever want to see me again. Not this afternoon, at any rate.”
Bending over the back of his armchair, Jane kissed his grey hair very tenderly.
“Then you stay here with Isabel,” she said.
V
“But Cicily,” said Jane, half an hour later, “have you never heard of conduct?” She was sitting hand in hand with her daughter on the sofa in the little French drawing-room.
“I have,” said Cicily firmly, “and I think I’m conducting myself very well!” The child’s young voice rang true with conviction.
“How can you think that, Cicily?” said Jane sadly. “I’m not asking you to consider your father or me, or your grandmother, or your Aunt Isabel, or your Uncle Robin. But leaving us all out of it, you’re wrecking ten lives.”
“Meaning Albert’s and Belle’s and Jack’s and mine and the lives of all six children?” smiled Cicily. “Mumsy, don’t be hysterical!”
“But you are, Cicily,” said Jane. “You’re wrecking them all for your own individual pleasure. You’re utterly selfish. You don’t care what havoc you make—”
“I’m not making havoc!” cried Cicily indignantly. “I’m not making havoc, any more than a surgeon is who performs a necessary operation. No one likes operations. They’re very unpleasant. But they save lives. People cry and carry on, but later they’re glad they had them. It takes time, of course, to get over a major incision. But you wait, Mumsy. In two years’ time we’ll all be a great deal happier. A great deal happier than we’ve been for years.”
“You will, perhaps,” said Jane. “And possibly Albert. But what about Jack and Belle?”
“Don’t talk about Belle!” cried Cicily contemptuously.
“I have to talk about her,” said Jane very seriously. “You have to think of her. You’re doing her a great wrong.”
“Mumsy,” cried Cicily, “you are not civilized. You have the morals of the Stone Age! You really have! I’m not wronging Belle! She doesn’t love Albert. She just wants to hang on to him because she doesn’t love anyone else! If she did, she’d be all smiles. No one likes to be left, Mumsy, but if Belle were doing the leaving—”
“But she’s not,” said Jane firmly. “Facts are facts. Belle says she loves her
