"When? I only ask, when?"--cried Leo shrilly. "Do you really not care at all, Leo? I thought at breakfast you and Sue----" "What's the use of caring? Will caring alter things? If it would----" but Leo caught her breath, and her hands gripped each other; "I think you might answer a plain question without rambling on about other things;" she subjoined as steadily as she could. "Is the time of our departure fixed?" "For this day week, if we can be ready in time. Sue says we can't, but Maud says we can. Ten to one on Maud." "This day week!" "After all, there's nothing more to be done here;" Sybil recovered herself, for in reality she was like Maud, bitten with the idea of change; "and it's doleful enough, Heaven knows. Day after day the same howling wind and rain, and nothing to talk about but Maud's houses. Maud doesn't care two straws what becomes of the rest of us, as long as she gets a fine place for herself. She won't even listen if a word's said about our affairs. Paul is too good for her, I think,"--abruptly. Leo, who had begun to turn away, stopped short, startled. "Oh, you don't care for him, I know," ran on Sybil at random; "but you are the only one of us who doesn't. I often think," she lowered her voice to caution, "I tell you what, Leo, if Paul had not fluked upon Maud as he did, and the other Fosters had not puffed her up and prodded him on, he never would have thought of her. She's not his style at all, with her grandiose notions, and fondness of big people, and all that. Just what Paul hates. Did you not see him wince when she made that remark about Lady St. Emeraud? Maud is awfully obtuse," continued Sybil, glad of a listener; "she never saw. But you know, Leo, even father used to laugh at her love of swagger--though she got it from him." "You never said this before;" muttered Leo, surprised. She had no inclination to go away now. "Because Maud and I--of course we have held by each other always, and I should have gone on holding, if she had. But I am nothing to her now;" said poor Sybil bitterly. She had a weak, shallow nature, but it was capable of affection--and Maud's selfish withdrawal of affection, her complete indifference to all that did not concern her own individual interests at a time when in the natural course of things the sisters would have been drawn together by an especially close tie, was felt as keenly as Sybil could feel anything. "And you think Paul----?" hesitated Leo. "It's Paul's own look out. He may make her mend her ways. She thinks a lot of him, of course." "Does she--is she--is she in love with him, Syb?" "In love with him? I suppose so--after a fashion. She's in love with being married, and having a country house of her own, and a husband to domineer over. And if he should come in for a title----"