"My likes or dislikes have nothing to do with it. They have few tastes in common; already she is sick and tired of Greenacres, and you know how Kirklan loves it out here. She has no interest in his work, and you know how much he needs sympathy, encouragement. He's not the kind that can forge on alone; the kind of wife he should have----" "Mother, don't! Who was she--how did he happen to meet her?" "She was employed in some minor capacity by Kirklan's publishers," Mrs. Gilmore replied. "As to who she is--I wonder. Yes, I wonder. I don't think even Kirklan knows anything about her. I don't consider it a good sign when a girl is reticent about her family. Kirklan says, 'I've married a girl I love, not a family tree.'" Joan winced again, for that was a line she had written into Kirklan's successful novel. "If--if they're in love with each other, mother, I suppose that's all that matters." "He's in love with her, but they're not in love with each other, and those one-sided romances always end in disaster. I can't help but feel that she is going to smash his life." "She--she'd better not!" whispered Joan, her hands clenched. "We won't talk about it any more--please. I'm going to my room and unpack. I'll--I'll come back in a little while, mother." Her tone was weary, lifeless. Mrs Gilmore gave her daughter another quick glance, as she prepared to deliver the second blow. "I--I guess you'll miss your old room, Joan; you've always loved it so, with its view of the river." Startled, bewildered, the girl turned away from the window. "Miss my old room? Why, mother, what--what do you mean?" "Kirklan had your things moved to the east wing, dear. He tried to make her understand, but----" "The things moved--from my room!" cried Joan. "Kirklan did that? He--he tried to make her understand? You mean that woman----" "It wasn't Kirklan's fault, Joan; he tried hard enough to reason with her, but his wife is so headstrong. It is the best room in the house, of course, and I suppose she felt that she had a right, as the new mistress of Greenacres, to it. The place is Kirklan's property." "That--that woman--in my room!" There was a catching sob in Joan's voice. "Oh, how dare she? And Kirk let her do it." "You don't understand how headstrong she is," Mrs. Gilmore explained hastily. "She's the sort who demands, who takes what she wants. Kirklan tried to avert it, but I suppose it's hard for a man to deny his bride anything. Kirklan has the adjoining room, a separate sleeping chamber. It's the modern thing, I believe, these days. She's had a doorway cut through; the carpenters finished their work yesterday. I knew you would resent giving up your room." "Of course I resent it!" flared Joan. "She has no right----" She paused and then added bitterly, "No, I suppose I'm wrong; the house is Kirk's, and she did have a right--to everything. I'm going to unpack now, there are some little souvenirs I brought back with me----"