to learn something about life and about each other. . . . Then that
climax came."

He turned and stared out of the window, dropping his sister's hand. "She
couldn't stand me, she couldn't stand the life, the climate, the
inconveniences, the absence of what she was accustomed to. She was dead
tired of it all. I can understand that. And I--I didn't know what to do
about it. . . . So we drifted; and the catastrophe came very quickly.
Let me tell you something; a West Pointer, an Annapolis man, knows what
sort of life he's going into and what he is to expect when he marries.
Usually, too, he marries into the Army or Navy set; and the girl knows,
too, what kind of a married life that means.

"But I didn't. Neither did Alixe. And we went under; that's
all--fighting each other heart and soul to the end. . . . Is she happy
with Ruthven? I never knew him--and never cared to. I suppose they go
about in town among the yellow set. Do they?"

"Yes. I've met Alixe once or twice. She was perfectly composed--formal
but unembarrassed. She has shifted her milieu somewhat--it began with
the influx of Ruthven's friends from the 'yellow' section of the younger
married set--the Orchils, Fanes, Minsters, and Delmour-Carnes. Which is
all right if she'd stay there. But in town you're likely to encounter
anybody where the somebodies of one set merge into the somebodies of
another. And we're always looking over our fences, you know. . . . By
the way," she added cheerfully, "I'm dipping into the younger set myself
to-night--on Eileen's account. I brought her out Thursday and I'm giving
a dinner for her to-night."

"Who's Eileen?" he asked.