It was their first quarrel, the first result of their engagement. Frances had seemed all laziness and honey up to this; like many another woman she began to show her real nature now that Pinckney was secured. But it was not an ordinary lovers' quarrel; her anger had less to do with Richard Pinckney than with Phyl. Her hatred of Phyl, big as a baobab tree, covered with its shadow Vernons, Miss Pinckney, and Richard. He was part of the business of her dethronement. Richard wandered off to where Maria Pinckney was seated watching the dancers. "Why aren't you dancing?" asked she. "Oh, I don't know," he replied. "I'm not keen on it and there are loads of men." Miss Pinckney had watched him talking to Frances Rhett and she had drawn her own deductions, but she said nothing. He sat down beside her. He had been wanting to tell her of his engagement for a long time past, but had put it off and put it off, waiting for the psychological moment. Maria Pinckney was a very difficult person to fit into a psychological moment. "I want to tell you something," said he. "I'm engaged to Frances Rhett." "Engaged to be married to her?" "Yes." Miss Pinckney was dumb. What she had always dreaded had come to pass, then. "You don't congratulate me?" "No," she replied. "I don't." Then, all of a sudden, she turned on him. "Congratulate you! If I saw you drowning in the harbour, would you expect me to stand at the Battery waving my hand to you and congratulating you? No, I don't congratulate you. You had the chance of being happy with the most beautiful girl in the world, and the best, and you've thrown it away to pick up with _that_ woman. Phyl would have married you, I know it, she would have made you happy, I know it, for I know her and I know you. Now it's all spoiled." He rose to his feet. It was the first time in his life that he had seen Maria Pinckney really put out. "I'll talk to you again about it," said he. Then he moved away. He had the pleasure of watching Frances dancing the next waltz with Silas Grangerson, and Silas had the pleasure of watching him as he stood talking to one of the elderly ladies and looking on. Silas's rabbit trap was in reality a very simple affair, it was a plan to pick a quarrel with Richard through Frances, if possible; to make the imperturbable Pinckney angry, knowing well how easily an angry man can be induced to make a fool of himself. To keep cool and let Richard do the shouting. Unfortunately for Silas, the sight of Phyl in all her beauty had raised his temperature far above the point of coolness. There were moments when he was dancing, when he could have flung Frances aside, torn Phyl from the arms of her partner and made off with her through the open window.