As for Kemp Ferrall, now third vice-president of Inter-County, he only laughed with the tolerance of a man in safety; and, looking at Quarrier through the pickets of the financial fence, not only forgot how close his escape had been, but, being a busy and progressive young man, began to consider how he might ultimately extract a little profit from the expensive tenant of the enclosure.
Grace made the journey to town to express herself freely for Sylvia's benefit; but when she saw Sylvia, the girl's radiant beauty checked her, and all she could say was: "My dear! my dear, I knew you would do it! I knew you would fling him on his head.

It's in your blood, you little jade! you little jilt! you mix of a baggage! I knew you'd behave like all the women of your race!" Sylvia held Mrs.Ferrall's pretty face impressed between both her hands, and looking her mischievously in the eyes, she whispered: "'Comme vous, maman, faut-il faire ?--Eh! mes petits-enfants, pourquoi, Quand j'ai fait comme ma grand' mere, Ne feriez-vous pas comme moi ?'" "O Lord!" said Mrs.Ferrall, "I'll never meddle again--and the entire world may marry and take the consequences!" Then she drove to the Santa Regina, where Marion was to join her in her return to Shotover; and she was already trying to make up her disturbed mind as to which might prove the more suitable for Marion--Captain Voucher, gloomily recovering from his defeat by Quarrier, or Billy Fleetwood, who didn't want to marry anybody.
In the meanwhile, Siward's new duties as second vice-president of Inter-County had given him scant leisure for open-air convalescence.
He was busy with Plank; he was also busy with the private investigation stirred up at the Patroons' Club and the Lenox, and which was slowly but inevitably resulting in clearing him, so that his restoration to good standing and full membership remained now only a matter of formal procedure.
So Siward was becoming a very busy man among men; and Plank, still carrying on his broad shoulders burdens unbearable by any man save such a man as he, shook his heavy head, and ordered Siward into the open.

And Siward, who had learned to obey, obeyed.
But September had nearly ended, when Leila, in Plank's private car, attended by Siward and Sylvia and two trained nurses, arrived at the Fells.

The nurses--Plank's idea--were a surprise to Leila; and the day after her arrival at the Fells she dismissed them, got out of bed, and dressed and came downstairs all alone, on a pair of sound though faltering legs.
Sylvia and Siward were in the music-room, very busily figuring out the probable cost of a house in that section of the city east of Park Avenue, where the newly married imprudent are forming colonies--a just punishment for those reckless brides who marry for love, and are obliged to drive over two car-tracks to reach their wealthy friends and relatives of the Golden Zone.
And Leila, in her pretty invalid's gown of lace, stood silently at the music-room door, watching them.

Her thick, dark hair was braided, and looped up under a black bow behind; and she looked like a curious and impertinent schoolgirl peeping at them there through the crack of the door, bending forward, her joined hands flattened between her knees.
"Oh," she said at length, in a frankly disappointed voice, "is that all you do when your chaperone is abed ?" "Angel!" cried Sylvia, springing up, "how in the world did you ever manage to come downstairs ?" "On the usual number of feet.