“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” suddenly said Claire behind me. Neither of us had seen her. “A child of your age has neither the experience nor the understanding to discuss that sort of problem.” From being natural, if patronizing, Sallie instantly became stiffly arrogant. “I’ve already been training for some time with a view to making that or any other sort of problem affecting human beings my work in life.” “Even a little medical student of two years’ standing doesn’t know everything, darling.” Claire saw herself as being gently and subtly satirical as she said this, and I saw her as being more or less unconsciously jealous of Sallie’s youth and her cleverness and her opportunities--and above all resentful of her self-confidence. But Sallie, I suppose, only saw her as being stupidly “superior” and aggressive. “I’ll explain the difference between the medical side and the psycho-analytical side some other time, cousin Claire,” she said, smiling. “I’m afraid I haven’t time now.” Of course she knew as well as I did that nothing is less endurable to Claire than the suggestion that she stands in need of having any subject under the sun explained to her. Sallie walked off, cool and triumphant, and Claire turned white with anger. She has often said--and it is perfectly true--that she would share her last penny with Mary’s children did they stand in need of it. But she cannot allow them to assert themselves. Claire was not enjoying the theatricals. Bill Patch had diffidently offered her a part and she had, wisely enough, refused it. But I think she regretted all the time not holding the center of the stage, especially when she found that it was Sallie who quite naturally took that place. Nancy Fazackerly might be one of the authors of the piece and get all the credit of the musical part of it, but she was neither as pretty, as young, as clever, nor as self-assertive as Sallie. Nancy is always ready to let somebody else take the lead, and moreover, in those days, she seemed to be living in a dream. Christopher was very devoted to her, and they looked happy. It was understood that their engagement would not be announced until Mrs. Fazackerly judged her father’s mood to be a propitious one. Knowing Nancy’s weakness, and her parent’s force of character, one was inclined to look upon the case as being adjourned _sine die_, or at least until old Carey should be translated into another sphere from this. The strain on Claire was a considerable one, and of course she did nothing whatever to lessen it, but, rather, lay awake at nights and wept, and by day forced upon the unwilling and inadequate Christopher emotional appeals and impulsive generosities. Nancy had been so much absorbed by the theatricals that she had, with her usual tact, avoided Claire altogether, without blatantly appearing to do so. Now, of course, we were every one of us utterly obsessed by the theatricals. They seemed to have become the one supreme reality in life.