predecessor. Still, people shook their heads over him, and one
grudging friend, to whom he affirmed that he took the step with his
eyes open, replied oracularly: "Yes--and with your ears shut."

Waythorn could afford to smile at these innuendoes. In the Wall
Street phrase, he had "discounted" them. He knew that society has
not yet adapted itself to the consequences of divorce, and that till
the adaptation takes place every woman who uses the freedom the law
accords her must be her own social justification. Waythorn had an
amused confidence in his wife's ability to justify herself. His
expectations were fulfilled, and before the wedding took place Alice
Varick's group had rallied openly to her support. She took it all
imperturbably: she had a way of surmounting obstacles without
seeming to be aware of them, and Waythorn looked back with wonder at
the trivialities over which he had worn his nerves thin. He had the
sense of having found refuge in a richer, warmer nature than his
own, and his satisfaction, at the moment, was humorously summed up
in the thought that his wife, when she had done all she could for
Lily, would not be ashamed to come down and enjoy a good dinner.

The anticipation of such enjoyment was not, however, the sentiment
expressed by Mrs. Waythorn's charming face when she presently joined
him. Though she had put on her most engaging teagown she had
neglected to assume the smile that went with it, and Waythorn
thought he had never seen her look so nearly worried.

"What is it?" he asked. "Is anything wrong with Lily?"

"No; I've just been in and she's still sleeping." Mrs. Waythorn
hesitated. "But something tiresome has happened."