id this in the threadbare pathetic old phrase--man
and wife "in the sight of God". He was trying honestly to spare her
exquisite sensibilities, and Esther understood that she was to be saved
at all points while she reaped the full harvest of her desires. Reardon
kissed her solemnly and went away, at the door meeting Madame Beattie,
who gave him what he thought an alarming look, at the least a satirical
one. Had she listened? had she seen their parting? But if she had, she
made no comment. Madame Beattie had her own affairs to manage.

"I have told Sophy to do some pressing for me," she said to Esther.
"After that, she will pack."

"Sophy isn't very fond of packing," said Esther weakly. She was quite
sure Sophy would refuse and was immediately sorry she had given Madame
Beattie even so slight a warning. What did Sophy's tempers matter now?
She would be left behind with grandmother and Rhoda Knox. What
difference would it make whether in the sulks or out of them?

"Oh, yes," said Madame Beattie quietly. "She'll do it."

Esther plucked up spirit. For weeks she had hardly addressed Madame
Beattie at all. She dared not openly show scorn of her, but she could at
least live apart from her. Yet it seemed to her now that she might, as a
sort of deputy hostess under grandmother, be told whether Madame Beattie
actually did mean to go away.

"Are you--" she hesitated.

"Yes," said Madame Beattie, "I am sailing. I leave for New York Friday
morning."

Esther had a rudimentary sense of humour, and it did occur to her that
it would be rather a dire joke if she and Madame Beattie, inexorably
linked by destiny, were to go on the same boat. But Madame Beattie drily
if innocently reassured her. And yet was it innocently? Esther could not
be sure. She was sailing, she explained, for Naples. She should never
think of venturing the northern crossing at this season.

And that afternoon while Madame Beattie took her drive, Esther had her
own trunks brought to her room and she and Sophy packed. Sophy was
enchanted. Mrs. Blake was going to New York, so Mrs. Blake told her, and
as soon as she got settled Sophy would be sent for. She was not to say
anything, however, for Mrs. Blake's going depended on its being carried
out quietly, for fear Madame Beattie should object. Sophy understood.
She had been quiet about many things connected with the tranquillity
dependent on Madame Beattie, and she even undertook to have the express
come at a cer