et your rancour, your jealousy,
blind you so completely."

Gregory turned from the window at this, smiling a pallid, frosty smile
and Mrs. Forrester was now aware that she had made him very angry. "I
may be narrow," he said, "and conventional and ignorant; but I'm
unconventional and clear-sighted enough to judge people by their actual,
not their market, value. Of Herr Lippheim I know nothing, except that
his parentage and antecedents haven't made a gentleman, or anything
resembling one, of him; while of Karen I know that hers, unfortunate as
they certainly were, have made a lady and a very perfect one. I don't
forgive Madame von Marwitz for a great many things in regard to her
treatment of Karen," Gregory went on with growing bitterness, "chief
among them that she has taken her at her market value and allowed her
friends to do the same. I've been able, thank goodness, to rescue Karen,
at all events, from that. Madame von Marwitz can't carry her about any
longer like a badge from some charitable society on her shoulder. No
woman who really loved Karen, or who really appreciated her," Gregory
added, falling back on his concrete fact, "could have thought of Herr
Lippheim as a husband for her."

Mrs. Forrester sat looking up at him, and she was genuinely aghast.

"You are incredible to me, Gregory," she said. "You set your one year of
devotion to Karen against Mercedes's life-time, and you presume to
discredit hers."

"Yes. I do. I don't believe in her devotion to Karen."

"Do you realize that your attitude may mean a complete rupture between
Karen and her guardian?"

"No such luck; I'm afraid!" said Gregory with a grim laugh. "My only
hope is that it may mean a complete rupture between Madame von Marwitz
and me. It goes without saying, feeling as I do, that, if it wouldn't
break Karen's heart, I'd do my best to prevent Madame von Marwitz from
ever seeing her again."

There was a little silence and then Mrs. Forrester got up sharply.

"Very well, Gregory," she said. "That will do."

"Are you going to shake hands with me?" he asked, still with the grim
smile.

"Yes. I will shake hands with you, Gregory," Mrs. Forrester replied.
"Because, in spite of everything, I am fond of you. But you must not
come here again. Not now."

"Never any more, do you really mean?"

"Not until you are less wickedly blind."

"I'm sorry," said Gregory. "It's never any more then, I'm afraid."

He was very sorry. He knew that as he