ind of innocent. Now I was
thinkin'--you know, I don't suppose we've hardly mentioned the girl's
name at table since Jim went, but it seems to me maybe if--"

Sheridan flung out his arms, uttering a sound half-groan, half-yawn.
"You're barkin' up the wrong tree! Go on back to bed, mamma!"

"Why am I?" she demanded, crossly. "Why am I barkin' up the wrong tree?"

"Because you are. There's nothin' in it."

"I'll bet you," she said, rising--"I'll bet you he goes to church with
her this morning. What you want to bet?"

"Go back to bed," he commanded. "I KNOW what I'm talkin' about; there's
nothin' in it, I tell you."

She shook her head perplexedly. "You think because--because Jim was
runnin' so much with her it wouldn't look right?"

"No. Nothin' to do with it."

"Then--do you know something about it that you ain't told me?"

"Yes, I do," he grunted. "Now go on. Maybe I can get a little sleep. I
ain't had any yet!"

"Well--" She went to the door, her expression downcast. "I thought
maybe--but--" She coughed prefatorily. "Oh, papa, something else I
wanted to tell you. I was talkin' to Roscoe over the 'phone last night
when the telegram came, so I forgot to tell you, but--well, Sibyl wants
to come over this afternoon. Roscoe says she has something she wants to
say to us. It'll be the first time she's been out since she was able to
sit up--and I reckon she wants to tell us she's sorry for what happened.
They expect to get off by the end o' the week, and I reckon she wants to
feel she's done what she could to kind o' make up. Anyway, that's
what he said. I 'phoned him again about Edith, and he said it wouldn't
disturb Sibyl, because she'd been expectin' it; she was sure all
along it was goin' to happen; and, besides, I guess she's got all that
foolishness pretty much out of her, bein' so sick. But what I thought
was, no use bein' rough with her, papa--I expect she's suffered a
good deal--and I don't think we'd ought to be, on Roscoe's account.
You'll--you'll be kind o' polite to her, won't you, papa?"

He mumbled something which was smothered under the coverlet he had
pulled over his head.

"What?" she said, timidly. "I was just sayin' I hoped you'd treat Sibyl
all right when she comes, this afternoon. You will, won't you, papa?"

He threw the coverlet off furiously. "I presume so!" he roared.

She departed guiltily.

But if he had accepted her proffered wager that Bibbs would go to
church with Mary Vertrees