The story of the unhappiness of Sara's parents was common property. Yet it hurt Sophie to see the hard look in the girl's eyes. "My dear child," she said, "everything depends on the amount of affection which two people give each other--time doesn't count." Sara was digging the point of her parasol into the sand. "I've never seen anything like it with Justin. Why, he's _never_ asked any woman to fly with him. And when I looked up a while ago, and saw that he had--her--I knew he wouldn't have--asked her--if he hadn't--cared----" "Perhaps we are making things more serious than they really are," Sophie said. But as the two women walked on together, her mental disturbance continued. What if Miss Matthews and Sara had spoken the truth? How would it affect Bettina--how would it affect--Diana? "I can't quite understand what all the men see in her," Sara was saying. "Of course she's a beauty. But she's so little and white--and she doesn't seem so terribly clever----" "There's a charm she has inherited from those sleepy Venetian ladies, who only waked now and then to flash a glance at some man--and hold him captive. Those beauties were without conscience. But Bettina has a Puritan streak in her which she gets from her mother--that's what makes her such a fascinating combination, Sara. She's like a little nun; yet one feels instinctively that back of that calm exterior there is force and fire." Sara nodded. "I know. Men don't like the obvious. That's why so many of us American girls fail to inspire grand passions. We have no surprises--no high lights or shadows--it's all glare----" "I'm not sure, my dear, but that, in the long run, such women make men happier than the other kind. In this practical world there's little room for varying moods." "If Justin marries Bettina," said Sara, "they'll live on rhapsodies." She drew a quick short breath. "There won't be any commonplaces. They're both made that way. It will be all romance and roses----" "My dear--aren't we taking things a bit for granted?" "You'll see. You haven't watched them as I have." They had reached Diana's house, and Sophie asked Sara to come in. "I can't. It's getting late and I must dress for dinner----" "Some other time then, dear?" "Yes--I shall love it." Then, with some hesitation, "I'm afraid I've said more than I should----" Sophie bent and kissed her. "Not a bit. I'm a perfect keeper of confidences--and not a soul shall share what you've told me----" Delia met Mrs. Martens in the hall. "Dr. Blake's on the porch," she said, "and he's asking about Bettina----" "Hasn't she come?" "No." "What time is it, Delia----" "Half-past six----" "Of all the mad things to do," said Anthony, as Sophie went out to him. "I shall certainly call Justin to strict account--for asking her----" "She shouldn't have gone," Sophie said. "I can't imagine how he induced her. She's such a little coward."