“Who is them?” Oldmeadow asked. “I saw, when we met in London, that Mrs. Chadwick actually had been brought to look upon Barney as a sort of miscreant and Adrienne as a martyr. Who else is there?”
“Well, no one else except Palgrave and Barbara. Palgrave can be very exasperating, as you know, and he takes the attitude now that Barney has done Adrienne an irreparable injury. As you may imagine it isn’t a pleasant life Barney leads among them all.”
“I see,” said Oldmeadow. “I think I see it all. What happens now is that Barney more and more takes refuge with you and Nancy, and Adrienne more and more can’t bear it.”
“That is precisely it, Roger,” said Mrs. Averil. “And what are we to do? How can I shut my door against Barney? Yet it is troubling me more than I can say. We are forced to seem on his side and against her. And Adrienne has her eye upon them.”
“Let her keep it on them,” said Oldmeadow in strong indignation. “And much good may it do her!”
“Oh, it won’t do her any good—nor us!” said Mrs. Averil. “She’s sick with jealousy, Roger. Sick. I’m almost sorry for her when I see it and see her trying to hide it, and see it always, coming in by the back door when she shuts the front door on it—as it always does, you know. And Nancy sees it, of course; and is quite as sick as she is; and Barney, of course, remains as blind as a bat.”
“Well, as long as he remains blind—”
“Yes. As long as he does. But Adrienne will make him see. She’ll pick and pull at their friendship until Nancy will be forced into drawing back, and if she draws back Barney will see. What it’s already come to is that she has to stand still, and smile, while Adrienne scratches her, lest Barney should see she’s scratched; and once or twice of late I’ve had a suspicion that he has seen. It doesn’t endear Nancy to Adrienne that Barney should scowl at her when he’s caught her scratching.”
“What kind of scratches?” Oldmeadow asked, but Mrs. Averil had only time to say, “Oh, all kinds; she’s wonderful at scratches,” when the door-bell rang and Nancy, a moment after, came in.
Nancy, if anything so fresh and neat could be so called, was looking rather dowdy, and he suspected that some self-effacing motive lay behind her choice of clothes.