“Your father is another generation”—his eyes glittered as he looked at her—“and you’re a fool.” But as he said the words, she realized what she should have known from the moment he walked in. He’d been drinking. It was only noon, but he was clearly drunk, and as she looked at him, she felt disgusted.

“Maybe we should discuss this some other time.”

“I think that’s a fine idea.”

He had gone out again then, but returned early that night, and the next morning made an effort to get up at a decent hour in the morning, and it was then that he realized how ill she was. He was startled as he questioned her about it over breakfast. They had a woman who came in every day to clean the house and do ironing and serve their meals when they were at home. Usually, Sarah liked to cook, but she had been unable to face the kitchen for the last month, although Freddie hadn’t been home often enough to see that.

“Is something wrong? Are you ill? Should you go to a doctor?” He looked concerned as he glanced at her over the morning paper. He had heard her retching horribly after they got up, and wondered if it had been something she had eaten.

“I’ve been to the doctor,” she said quietly, her eyes looking at him, but it was a long moment before he glanced her way again, almost having forgotten his earlier question.

“What was that? Oh … right … good. What did he say? Influenza? You ought to be careful, you know, there’s a lot of it about just now. Tom Parker’s mother almost died of it last week.”

“I don’t think I’ll die of this.” She smiled quietly and he went back to his paper. There was a long silence, and then finally he looked at her again, having totally forgotten their earlier conversation.

“There’s a hell of a stink in England over Edward VIII abdicating to be with that Simpson woman. She must be something else, to get him to do a thing like that.”

“I think it’s sad,” Sarah said seriously. “The poor man has been through so much, how could she destroy his life like that? What kind of life can they possibly have together?”

“Maybe a pretty racy one.” He smiled at her, much to her chagrin, looking handsomer than ever. She wasn’t sure anymore if she loved or hated him, her life with him had become such a nightmare. But maybe Jane was right, maybe everything would be better after they had the baby.

“I’m having a baby.” She almost whispered to him, and for a moment, he seemed not to hear her. And then he turned to her, as he stood up, and looked as though he hoped she were joking.

“Are you serious?” She nodded, unable to say more to him, as tears filled her eyes. In a way, it was a relief finally to tell him. She had known since just before Christmas, but hadn’t had the courage to tell him. She wanted him to care about her, wanted a quiet moment of happiness between them, and since their honeymoon on Cape Cod seven months before, that just hadn’t happened.

“Yes, I’m serious.” Her eyes said she was, as he watched her.

“That’s too bad. Don’t you think it’s a little too soon? I thought we were being careful.” He looked annoyed and not pleased, and she felt a sob catch in her throat, as she prayed not to make a fool of herself with her husband.

“I thought so too.” She raised her tear-filled eyes to him, and he took a step toward her and ruffled her hair, like a little sister.

“Don’t worry about it, it’ll be all right. When’s it for?”

“August.” She tried not to cry, but it was hard to control herself. At least he wasn’t furious, only annoyed. She hadn’t been thrilled when she heard the news either. There was so little between them at this point. So little time, so little warmth or communication. “Peter and Jane are having a baby then too.”

“Lucky for them,” he said sarcastically, wondering what he was going to do with her now. Marriage had turned out to be a lot more of a burden than he had expected. She seemed to sit around at home all the time, waiting to entrap him. And she looked even more woebegone now, as he glanced down at the little mother.

“Not lucky for us though, is it?” She couldn’t restrain die two tears that slid slowly down her cheeks as she asked him.

“The timing isn’t great. But I guess you don’t always get to call that, do you?” She shook her head, and he left the room, and he didn’t mention it to her again before he went out half an hour later. He was meeting friends for lunch, and he didn’t say when he’d be back. He never did. She cried herself to sleep that night, and he didn’t come home until eight o’clock the next morning. And when he did he was still so desperately drunk from the night before that he never made it past the couch in the living room, on the way to their bedroom. She heard him come in, but he was unconscious by the time she found him.

And for the next month it was painfully plain how badly shaken he was by her little announcement. The idea of marriage was frightening enough to him, but the idea of a baby filled him with nothing less than terror. Peter tried to explain it to her one night when she had dinner alone with them, and by then, her unhappiness with Freddie was no secret between them. No one else was to know, but she had confided in both of them ever since she had told her sister about the baby.

“Some men are just terrified of that kind of responsibility. It means they have to grow up themselves. I have to admit, it scared me, too, the first time.” He glanced lovingly at Jane, and then soberly back at her sister. “And Freddie is not exactly famous for his ability to settle down. But maybe when he sees it, hell realize it’s not the dire threat he thought it was. They’re pretty harmless when they’re small. But it might be rough until you have the baby.” Peter was more sympathetic than he let on to her; he had frequently told his wife that he thought Freddie was a real bastard. But he didn’t want to tell Sarah what he thought. He preferred to offer her encouragement about the baby.

But her spirits stayed pretty low, and Freddie’s behavior and drinking only got worse. It took all of Jane’s ingenuity to get Sarah out at all. Finally, she got her out to go shopping. They went downtown to Bonwit Teller on Fifth Avenue when Sarah suddenly became very pale and stumbled as she grabbed blindly for her sister.

“Are you all right?” Jane looked instantly frightened when she saw her.

“I … I’m fine … I don’t know what happened.” She had had a terrible pain, but it only lasted for a moment.

“Why don’t we sit down.” Jane was quick to signal someone and ask for a chair and a drink of water, and by then Sarah was clutching at her hand again. There were beads of sweat on her brow, and her face was a grayish green as she looked up at her older sister.

“I’m so sorry … Jane, I don’t feel well at all….” And almost as she said the words, she fainted. The ambulance came as soon as it was called, and Sarah was carried out of Bonwit’s on a stretcher. She was conscious again by then, and Jane looked terrified as she ran along beside her. They let her ride to the hospital with Sarah in the ambulance, and Jane had asked the store to call Peter at his office, and their mother at home. And both arrived at the hospital only a few minutes later. Peter was more worried about Jane than anyone, and she clung to him and sobbed as her mother went in to see her sister. She was in with her for a long time, and when she came out, there were tears in her eyes and she looked at her eldest daughter.

“Is she all right?” Jane asked anxiously, and her mother quietly nodded and sat down. She had been a good mother to both of them. She was a quiet, unpretentious woman, with good taste and sound ideas, and values that had served both girls well, although the sensible lessons she’d taught hadn’t done much to help Sarah with Freddie.

“She’ll be all right,” Victoria Thompson said, as she reached out for both their hands, and Peter and Jane held her hands tightly. “She lost the baby … but she’s very young.” Victoria Thompson had lost a baby, too, her only son, before Sarah and Jane were born, but she had never shared that sorrow with either of her children. She had told Sarah now, hoping to comfort her and help her. “She’ll have another baby one day,” Victoria said sadly, but she was almost more concerned with what Sarah had blurted out about her life with Freddie. She had been crying terribly, and insisting that it was all her fault. She had moved a piece of furniture by herself the night before, but Freddie was never there to help her. And then the whole story had come tumbling out, about how little time he spent with her, how much he drank, how unhappy she was with him, and how unhappy he was about the baby.

It was several hours before the doctors would let them see her again, and Peter had gone back to the office by then, but he had made Jane promise she would go home at the end of the afternoon, to rest and recover from the day’s excitement. After all, she was pregnant too. And one miscarriage was bad enough.

They had tried to call Freddie, too, but he was out, as usual, and no one knew where he was, or when he would be returning. The maid was very sorry to hear about Mrs. Van Deering’s “accident,” and she promised to refer Mr. Van Deering to the hospital if he called or appeared, which everyone silently agreed was unlikely.

“It’s all my fault….” Sarah was sobbing when they saw her again. “I didn’t want it enough. … I was upset because Freddie was so annoyed, and now….” She sobbed on incoherently, and her mother took her in her arms and tried to stop her. All three women were crying by then, and they finally had to give Sarah a sedative to calm her. They were going to keep her in the hospital for several days, and Victoria told the nurses she would be spending the night with her daughter, and eventually she sent Jane home in a cab, and then she had a long talk on the phone in the lobby with her husband.

When Freddie came home that night, he found his father-in-law waiting for him in the living room, much to his amazement. Fortunately, he had had less to drink than usual, and was surprisingly sober, considering it was just after midnight. He had had a boring evening, and had finally decided to come home early.

“Good Lord! … sir … what are you doing here?” He blushed faintly, and then flashed him his broad, boyish smile. And then he realized that something had to be very wrong for Edward Thompson to be waiting for him at this hour in this apartment. “Is Sarah all right?”

“No, she isn’t.” He looked away for a moment, and then back at Freddie. There was no delicate way to say it. “She … uh … lost the child this morning, and is at Lenox Hill Hospital. Her mother is still with her.”

“She did?” He looked startled, and felt relieved, and hoped he wasn’t so drunk that he couldn’t conceal it. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He said it as though she were someone else’s wife, and it had been someone else’s baby. “Is she all right?”

“I believe she’ll be able to have more children. What is apparently not all right, however, is that my wife tells me that things have been somewhat less than idyllic between the two of you. Normally, I would never interfere in my daughters’ married lives; however, in this rather unusual instance, with Sarah so … so … ill, it seems an opportune moment to discuss it with you. My wife tells me that Sarah has been hysterical all afternoon, and I find it rather significant, Frederick, that since early this morning, no one has been able to reach you. This cannot be a very happy life for her, or for you. Is there something we should know about now, or do you feel able to continue your marriage to my daughter rather more in the spirit in which you entered into the union?”

“I … I … of course … would you like a drink, Mr. Thompson?” He walked swiftly to where they kept their liquor and poured himself a liberal glass of Scotch, with a very small splash of water.

“I think not.” Edward Thompson sat expectantly, watching his son-in-law with displeasure, and there was no question in Freddie’s mind that the older man expected an answer. “Is there some problem that keeps you from behaving appropriately as her husband?”

“I … uh … well, sir, this baby thing was a little unexpected.”

“I understand, Frederick. Babies often are. Is there some serious misunderstanding with my daughter that I should know about?”

“Not at all. She’s a wonderful girl. I … I … uh … just needed a little time to adjust to being married.”

“And to working, too, I imagine.” He looked pointedly at Freddie, who had suspected that was coming.

“Yes, yes, of course. I thought I’d look into that after the baby.”

“You’ll be able to do that now a little more quickly, won’t you?”