Rachael met them; they dined with her. She was interested about the Valentine children, interested in their summer plans. She laughed as she quoted Derry's latest ventures with words. She walked to her gate to wave them good-bye on Monday morning, and told Alice that she was counting the days until the big family came down. But George and Alice were heavy hearted as they drove away.
"What IS it?" asked Alice, anxious eyes upon her husband's kind, homely face. "She's like a person recovering from a blow. She's not sick; but, George, she isn't well!"
"No, she's not well," George agreed soberly. "Bad glitter in her eyes, and I don't like that calm for fiery Rachael! Well, you'll be down here in a week or two--"
"Last week," Alice said not for the first time, "she only spoke of--of the trouble, you know--once. We were just going out to dinner, and she turned to me, and said: 'I didn't like my bargain eight years ago, Alice, and I tore my contract to pieces! Now I'll pay for it.'"
"And you said?"
"I said, 'Oh, nonsense, Rachael. Don't be morbid! There's no parallel between the cases!'"
"H'm!" The doctor was silent for a long time. "I don't know what Greg's doing," he added after thought.
"The question is, what is Magsie doing?" said Alice.
"In my opinion, Rachael's simply blown up," George submitted.
"Magsie told her they had talked of marriage!" Alice countered. George gave an incredulous snort.