he family. That Mrs.
Roscoe Sheridan is not a--that is, she's rather a pleasant-faced little
woman, I think, and of course rather ordinary. I think she is interested
about--that is, of course, she'd be anxious to be more intimate with
Mary, naturally. She's always looking over here from her house; she
was looking out the window this afternoon when Mary went out, I
noticed--though I don't think Mary saw her. I'm sure she wouldn't think
it out of place to--to be frank about matters. She called the other day,
and Mary must rather like her--she said that evening that the call had
done her good. Don't you think it might be wise?"

"Wise? I don't know. I feel the whole matter is impossible."

"Yes, so do I," she returned, promptly. "It isn't really a thing we
should be considering seriously, of course. Still--"

"I should say not! But possibly--"

Thus they skirmished up and down the field, but before they turned the
lights out and went up-stairs it was thoroughly understood between
them that Mrs. Vertrees should seek the earliest opportunity to obtain
definite information from Sibyl Sheridan concerning the mental and
physical status of Bibbs. And if he were subject to attacks of lunacy,
the unhappy pair decided to prevent the sacrifice they supposed their
daughter intended to make of herself. Altogether, if there were spiteful
ghosts in the old house that night, eavesdropping upon the woeful
comedy, they must have died anew of laughter!

Mrs. Vertrees's opportunity occurred the very next afternoon. Darkness
had fallen, and the piano-movers had come. They were carrying the piano
down the front steps, and Mrs. Vertrees was standing in the open doorway
behind them, preparing to withdraw, when she heard a sharp exclamation;
and Mrs. Roscoe Sheridan, bareheaded, emerged from the shadow into the
light of the doorway.

"Good gracious!" she cried. "It did give me a fright!"

"It's Mrs. Sheridan, isn't it?" Mrs. Vertrees was perplexed by this
informal appearance, but she reflected that it might be providential.
"Won't you come in?"

"No. Oh no, thank you!" Sibyl panted, pressing her hand to her side.
"You don't know what a fright you've given me! And it was nothing but
your piano!" She laughed shrilly. "You know, since our tragedy coming
so suddenly the other day, you have no idea how upset I've been--almost
hysterical! And I just glanced out of the window, a minute or so ago,
and saw your door wide open and black figures of