"I think Yanna has quite spoiled Harry. Will you believe that I used to meet him driving with the baby last summer; and he trotted to meeting every Sunday with Yanna. I can tell you, mother, that your day is over. Yanna has Harry quite under her thumb now, or I am much mistaken." "And the Cora Mitchin affair?" "I should say it is dead and buried. I do not see the girl's name at any theatre, and her picture is not staring you in the face from every window this season. She has been retired evidently." "We shall see. Now, Rose, throw aside this nonsensical air of seclusion and sorrow. Get some pretty costumes, and prepare gradually to open your house. A woman with your income aping the recluse is ridiculous." "You do me so much good, mamma." "Well, my dear, there is nothing for wrong but to try and put it right. I think you have been to blame, but there is no use going about the world to accuse yourself. You must try and make your peace with your husband. It is such bad form, this quarreling. Send for Yanna and Miss Alida, and ask their advice--just to flatter them. You _must_ have the support of your family." "I do not speak to either of them. I have made a business of offending them. Yanna was the inventor of the Duval romance; and Alida Van Hoosen thinks her thoughts. They have been living together." "I am awfully sorry you have offended them. Can you not be friends with Yanna?" "I don't want to be friends with her. I have quarreled with Harry, too. The idea of Harry coming to tell me my sins! I suppose Yanna sent him. Well, he heard the truth about his own sins, for once in his life! Mamma, I have quarreled with every one but you." As she was speaking, Harry entered. He took his mother in his arms, and then turned to Rose. "Good morning, Rose," he said pleasantly. But Rose looked past him, and without a word in reply, she left the house. "I am sorry you have quarreled with your sister, Harry," said Mrs. Filmer. "If ever she needed your countenance and aid, it is now." "It is not my fault. Has she told you about the last----?" "I have heard a dozen versions of the affair. Poor girl!" "Mother, you ought not to condone her sins." "You made no objections to my condoning your sins, Harry--much more flagrant ones, too. And I do not think your wife need to put on so many airs about poor Rose." "Rose has wantonly wounded Yanna's feelings very often." "Poor feelings! I wonder how they endured the pretty Cora's extravagances of every kind." "Mother!" "Well, Harry, there is no use in our quarreling. Where is Antony?" "In Arizona." "It is a great shame. I shall make your father go and see him." "There is no necessity. A word of contrition from Rose will bring him home. Without that word, nothing will bring him. You had better get Rose to write to him. A dozen words will do." "She will never write one." "Then she had better get a divorce." "And lose all Antony's money!"