stupid. And I'd come to like her too. Yes, I'd even asked her to come
and see me." She was really distressed.

"And why not?" he demanded. "Hang it all, Agatha, it's nothing unusual.
She's a jolly good sort and a sight too good for Medcroft. He's a stupid
ass. I've said so all along. How the devil she ever married him, I can't
see. But, by Jove, Agatha, I can readily see how she might have loved
the father of this child, no matter who he is. Take my advice, my dear,
and don't be harsh in your judgment. Don't say a word about what you've
heard. If they are reconciled to the--er--the situation, why the devil
should we give a hang? And, above all, don't let these Rodneys suspect."
Here he lowered his voice gradually. "They're a pack of rotters and they
couldn't understand. They'd cut her, even if she is a cousin or whatever
it is. I've give a year or two of my life to know positively whether
Rodney intends taking those shares or not." He said it in contemplative
delight in what he would do if it were definitely settled. "I can't
stand them much longer."

"What great variety of Americans there are," she reflected. "Mrs.
Medcroft and her sister are Americans. Compare them with the Rodneys and
Mr. Ulstervelt. No, Carney, I'll not start a scandal. The Rodneys would
not understand, as you say. They'd tear her to shreds and gloat over
the mutilation. No; we'll have her to see us in London. I like her."

"And, by Jove, Agatha, I like her sister."

"My dear, the baby is a darling."

"But what an ass Medcroft is!"