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over a week later that Blanche burst into her bedroom. 'Mother's out,' she said, without preamble, 'I have to talk to you.'
    Emma, busy mending a pair of the woolen socks she wore on the farm, glanced up frowning. Blanche's face wore an expression which was not unfamiliar. She was intensely an expression which was not unfamiliar. She was intensely excited about something. Just what was she up to? Usualy Emma was left to guess, but she was nervous rather than gratified that, this time, Blanche apparently wanted to confide in her. Something warned her that she wasn't going to like what was coming.
    Despite the haste with which Blanche had descended on her cousin, she appeared in no great hurry to unburden herself. She stroled to the window and stared out at the roling downs which were so much a feature of the South Country. They weren't far from London, but no one could have guessed as the farm was lonely and isolated.
    'You're back early today, aren't you?' When Blanche didn't speak, Emma made an effort to find out what all the agitation was about. She had no desire to be on the receiving end of Blanche's confidences and she wished the other girl had waited until her mother returned.
    Blanche swung around, at the sound of Emma's voice, as though her mind was quite made up. 'I'm going to Paris for a few days. With Rex,' she enlarged coldly, defying Emma to query it.
    Emma was too bewildered to say anything immediately, but the shocked apprehension in her eyes said it for her. She just blinked at Blanche and swalowed.
    'I'm not a child, Emma,' Blanche exclaimed tartly, reading things in Emma's face she didn't care for. 'I know what I'm doing, so you needn't start asking what about Rick. He doesn't have to know a thing about it.'
    'But—why?' Emma whispered, horrified. 'I mean, you're about to be married. And what if Rick does find out? What then?'
    'He won't.'
    'How can you be so sure?' Emma's voice was stiff with disapproval. 'Besides, it's not fair!'
    'Shut up, you sanctimonious little saint!' Blanche was suddenly spitting venom. 'You don't know Rick. Once we're married he'll come down with a heavy hand. His wife will have to toe the line in every way, both in bed and out. He's not realy the lazy, sardonic character you might think he is.'
    Colouring vividly at Blanche's over-candid remarks, Emma chose to ignore what she considered the worst of them. Neither Rick nor Blanche had any qualms about embarrassing her, but it annoyed her nearly as much that they could so easily make her blush. 'If you feel this way about Rick, why marry him, for heaven's sake?'
    'Haven't I told you before?' Blanche chaffed impatiently.
    'Freedom from work, all that lovely sunshine and money, but you can believe he'll demand his money's worth!'
    'You don't have to force me, I'm quite convinced,' Emma retorted dryly, recaling with a tremor the powerful littleness of Rick Conway's body, the decisive lines etched on his face.
    'Yet money isn't everything, Blanche. Neither is a life of leisure, I shouldn't think.'
    'I shan't complain,' Blanche sneered.
    'I still don't understand how you can even consider marrying him when you love Rex.'

    'Are you crazy?' Blanche cried. 'I certainly don't harbour any tender feelings for Rex. I'm attracted to him, that's al, and he's helped me a lot with my career.'
    There was a lot here which was beyond her. Emma felt hopelessly inadequate as she gazed at her cousin. How did one even begin to deal with such a problem—if Blanche's imminent betrayal of her fiancé could be classed as such.
    One thing was quite obvious, Blanche wasn't looking for advice, good or otherwise. All the same, Emma tried to give some. 'Why not forget about Rex and concentrate on Rick's wealth?' Blanche had always been greedy. 'I'm sure he intends giving you a good time, and I don't think he regards you as a business proposition at al. In fact he did say he hasn't looked at another woman since he met you.'
    'All of three months ago!' Blanche's