They were in Mrs. Odell-Carney's sitting-room. Mr. Odell-Carney was smoking a cigaret on the balcony, just outside the window. Mrs. Rodney did not know that he was there. It is only natural that he held himself inhospitably aloof: Mrs. Rodney bored him to death. He did not hear all that was poured out between them, but he heard quite enough to cause him something of a pang. He distinctly heard his wife say things to Mrs. Rodney that she had solemnly avowed she would not say,--things about the Medcroft baby. It goes without saying that Mrs. Odell-Carney refused to be surprised by the disclosures. She calmly admitted that she had suspected Medcroft of being too fond of his sister-in-law, but, she went on cheerfully, why not? His wife didn't care a rap for him--she _said_ rap and nothing else; Mrs. Medcroft had an affair of her own, dear child; she was not so slow as Mrs. Rodney thought, oh, no. Mrs. Odell-Carney warmed up considerably in defending the not-to-be-pitied Edith. She said she had liked her from the beginning, and more than ever, now that she had really come to the conclusion that her husband was the kind who sets his wife an example by being a bit divaricating himself. Mrs. Rodney fairly screeched with horror when she heard that Tootles was "a poor little beggar," and "all that sort of thing, you know." "My dear," said Mrs. Odell-Carney, hating herself all the time for engaging in the spread of gossip, but femininely unable to withstand the test, "your excellent cousin, Mrs. Medcroft, receives two letters a day from London,--great, fat letters which take fifteen minutes to read in spite of the fact that they are written in a perfectly huge hand by a man--a man, d'ye hear? They're not from her husband. He's here. He cannot have written them in London, don't you see? He--" "I see," inserted Mrs. Rodney, who was afraid that Mrs. Odell-Carney might think she didn't see. "Mind your Mrs. Rodney, I'm terribly cut up about all this. She has--" "Oh, I knew you would be," mourned Mrs. Rodney, her heart in her boots. "You must just hate me for exposing you to--" "Rubbish!" scoffed the other. "It isn't that. I've been through a dozen affairs in which my best friends were frightfully--er--complicated. I meant to say that I'm terribly cut up over poor Mrs. Medcroft. She's a dear. Believe me, she's a most delicious sinner. Even Carney says that, and he's very fastidious--and very loyal." "They are married in name only," said Mrs. Rodney, beginning to sniffle. She looked up and smiled wanly through her tears. "You know what I mean. My grammar is terrible when I'm nervous." She pulled at her handkerchief for a wavering moment. "Do you think I'd better speak to Edith? We may be able to prevent the divorce." "Divorce, my dear," gasped Mrs. Odell-Carney incredulously.