Bell. She could not leave Christopher, she said simply, and in this she stood rock-firm. Caroline could not budge her an inch.
“You're a fool, Eunice,” she said, when she was obliged to give up in despair. “It’s not likely you'll ever have another chance. As for Chris, in a year or two he'll be marrying himself, and where will you be then? You'll find your nose nicely out of joint when he brings a wife in here.”
The shaft went home. Eunice’s lips turned white. But she said, faintly, “The house is big enough for us both, if he does.”
Caroline sniffed.
“Maybe so. You'll find out. However, there’s no use talking. You're as set as your mother was, and nothing would ever budge her an inch. I only hope you won't be sorry for it.”
When three more years had passed Christopher began to court Victoria Pye. The affair went on for some time before either Eunice or the Hollands got wind of it. When they did there was an explosion. Between the Hollands and the Pyes, root and branch, existed a feud that dated back for three generations. That the original cause of the quarrel was totally forgotten did not matter; it was a matter of family pride that a Holland should have no dealings with a Pye.
When Christopher flew so openly in the face of
