had to say on the subject of
Roscoe and Sibyl, his opinion meeting, as he expected, a warmly hostile
reception. But the result of this conversation was that by telephonic
command Roscoe awaited his father, an hour later, in the library at the
New House.

"Gurney says your wife's able to travel," Sheridan said brusquely, as he
came in.

"Yes." Roscoe occupied a deep chair and sat in the dejected attitude
which had become his habit. "Yes, she is."

"Edith had to leave town, and so Sibyl thinks she'll have to, too!"

"Oh, I wouldn't put it that way," Roscoe protested, drearily.

"No, I hear YOU wouldn't!" There was a bitter gibe in the father's
voice, and he added: "It's a good thing she's goin' abroad--if she'll
stay there. I shouldn't think any of us want her here any more--you
least of all!"

"It's no use your talking that way," said Roscoe. "You won't do any
good."

"Well, when are you comin' back to your office?" Sheridan used a
brisker, kinder tone. "Three weeks since you showed up there at all.
When you goin' to be ready to cut out whiskey and all the rest o' the
foolishness and start in again? You ought to be able to make up for a
lot o' lost time and a lot o' spilt milk when that woman takes herself
out o' the way and lets you and all the rest of us alone."

"It's no use, father, I tell you. I know what Gurney was going to say to
you. I'm not going back to the office. I'm DONE!"

"Wait a minute before you talk that way!" Sheridan began his sentry-go
up and down the room. "I suppose you know it's taken two pretty good
men about sixteen hours a day to set things straight and get 'em runnin'
right again, down in your office?"

"They must be good men." Roscoe nodded indifferently. "I thought I was
doing about eight men's work. I'm glad you found two that could handle
it."

"Look here! If I worked you it was for your own good. There are plenty
men drive harder'n I do, and--"

"Yes. There are some that break down all the other men that work with
'em. They either die, or go crazy, or have to quit, and are no use
the rest of their lives. The last's my case, I guess--'complicated by
domestic difficulties'!"

"You set there and tell me you give up?" Sheridan's voice shook, and
so did the gesticulating hand which he extended appealingly toward the
despondent figure. "Don't do it, Roscoe! Don't say it! Say you'll come
down there again and be a man! This woman ain't goin' to trouble you any
more. The work ain