Martha Dole, espying an old friend, left us and the moment she was gone, I said to the Countess, “You were telling me about Harry Morgan.”

“But he told me something extraordinary! Something too really strange! Don’t misunderstand: I like him although he’s rather racy in his language. I’m only wondering how everyone will take it.”

“Take what, my dear Countess?” I cried with impatience.

“Oh, it’s probably nothing at all. It’s only that he told me that Philip has asked him to take charge of doing over the Concord house, and it only struck me odd because of the way Mrs. McAllister feels about the place. And of course, no one knows him. D’you understand me, Sonie?”

“Yes, yes,” I said. “But what I don’t understand is why Philip asked him. He hasn’t known him for longer than a month.”

“Precisely!” said the Countess with a wink and then, perceiving that her stepdaughter was at her side, added, “It is precisely as you say: a ‘four-square’ sonata, as tedious as a wooden block.”

Having delivered to Amy the message from Mrs. McAllister, I made my way into the drawing-room where the crowd was beginning to thin. Hopestill beckoned to me. “Go up with me, will you, Sonie?” she whispered. I glanced towards her maid-of-honor and she said impatiently, “I’ve arranged that, don’t worry.” Philip’s face was fixed in a smile that revealed his teeth which were so regular and white they looked almost false. The adjective “sanitary” flashed across my mind as I took in his clear, intellectual eyes, his fair hair, his meticulously cared-for person, and in that moment, I preferred his bride upon whose cheek there was a light streak of dirt and who was frankly exhausted and was making no attempts to conceal the fact. I told her that I would meet her in her room and she left when she had said something to Philip who, looking at me as if he had never seen me before, formally shook my hand, not altering his grin in the least. I laughed uneasily and said, “I’ve already congratulated you once, don’t you remember?” and he replied, “How stingy you are! Can’t you congratulate a man twice on the happiest day of his life?” But there was in his voice a note of such staggering unhappiness, so taut an irony that I could make only a feeble rejoinder, told him I must hurry up to Hopestill, that I wished him all the happiness, that I . . .