Alice, in spite of her husband's half protest, went down to Clark's Hills, deciding in the first hour that the worst of the matter was all over and Rachael quite herself, gradually becoming doubtful, and returning home in despair. Her tearful account took George down to the country house a week later. Rachael met them; they dined with her. She was interested about the Valentine children, interested in their summer plans. She laughed as she quoted Derry's latest ventures with words. She walked to her gate to wave them good-bye on Monday morning, and told Alice that she was counting the days until the big family came down. But George and Alice were heavy hearted as they drove away. "What IS it?" asked Alice, anxious eyes upon her husband's kind, homely face. "She's like a person recovering from a blow. She's not sick; but, George, she isn't well!" "No, she's not well," George agreed soberly. "Bad glitter in her eyes, and I don't like that calm for fiery Rachael! Well, you'll be down here in a week or two--" "Last week," Alice said not for the first time, "she only spoke of--of the trouble, you know--once. We were just going out to dinner, and she turned to me, and said: 'I didn't like my bargain eight years ago, Alice, and I tore my contract to pieces! Now I'll pay for it.'" "And you said?" "I said, 'Oh, nonsense, Rachael. Don't be morbid! There's no parallel between the cases!'" "H'm!" The doctor was silent for a long time. "I don't know what Greg's doing," he added after thought. "The question is, what is Magsie doing?" said Alice. "In my opinion, Rachael's simply blown up," George submitted. "Magsie told her they had talked of marriage!" Alice countered. George gave an incredulous snort. "Well, then, Magsie lied," he said firmly. "She really isn't the lying type, George. And there's no question that Greg and she did see each other every day, and that he wrote her letters and gave her presents!" Alice finished rather timidly, for her husband's face was a thunder-cloud. The old car flew along at thirty-five miles an hour. "Damn FOOL!" George presently muttered. Alice glanced at him in sympathetic concern. "George, why don't you see him?" George preserved a stern silence for perhaps two flying minutes, then he sighed. "Oh, he'll come to me fast enough when he needs me! Lord, I've pulled old Greg out of trouble before." His whole face grew tender as he added: "You know Greg is a genius, Alice; he's not like other men!" "I should hope he wasn't!" said Alice with spirit. "We--ll!" She was sorry for her vehemence when George merely shook his head and ended the conversation on the monosyllable. After a while she attempted to reopen the subject. "If geniuses can act that way, I'd rather have our girls marry grocers!" The girls' father smiled absently. "Oh, well, of course!" he conceded. "Greg is no more a genius than you are, George," argued Alice.