her fingers until the knuckles showed white.
"Your news is such a shock," Carmelita muttered.
"Well, there is only one way to appease your father, of course. Go to him and offer to divorce Dudley and start all over again. I don't think you two are the lovey-doves you were at the beginning, anyway. You have hardly seen anything of him all summer."
"It has been my fault. He has worked so hard."
"Nonsense. If he had wanted to see more of you he could have managed. And what has all his alleged hard work gotten him—and you—anyway? I don't observe either of you rolling in wealth. You are apparently worrying yourself sick over something—probably money. If you had only taken my advice in the first place, in Paris—
"Please, please!" Carmelita suddenly cried, rising and standing with twisted face before the airily impudent Lucy. And, feeling that she could not stand it a second longer, Carmelita turned swiftly and without a word of explanation rushed up the stairs and to her boudoir. Lucy had risen also and for a minute she stood in curious puzzlement watching Carmelita disappear. Should she follow? Possibly Carmelita was ill. But she had a date to go swimming with Rao-Singh and a party
