given him one sign of encouragement the way you women
think, he wouldn't of acted the stubborn fool he has--he'd 'a' been at
me long ago, beggin' me for some kind of a job he could support a wife
on. There's nothin' in it--and I've got the same old fight with him on
my hands I've had all his life--and the Lord knows what he won't do
to balk me! What's happened now'll probably only make him twice as
stubborn, but--"

"SH!" Mrs. Sheridan, still in the doorway, lifted her hand. "That's his
step--he's comin' down-stairs." She shrank away from the door as if
she feared to have Bibbs see her. "I--I wonder--" she said, almost in a
whisper--"I wonder what he'd goin'--to do."

Her timorousness had its effect upon the others. Sheridan rose,
frowning, but remained standing beside his chair; and Roscoe moved
toward Sibyl, who stared uneasily at the open doorway. They listened as
the slow steps descended the stairs and came toward the library.

Bibbs stopped upon the threshold, and with sick and haggard eyes looked
slowly from one to the other until at last his gaze rested upon his
father. Then he came and stood before him.

"I'm sorry you've had so much trouble with me," he said, gently. "You
won't, any more. I'll take the job you offered me."

Sheridan did not speak--he stared, astounded and incredulous; and Bibbs
had left the room before any of its occupants uttered a sound, though he
went as slowly as he came. Mrs. Sheridan was the first to move. She went
nervously back to the doorway, and then out into the hall. Bibbs had
gone from the house.

Bibbs's mother had a feeling about him then that she had never known
before; it was indefinite and vague, but very poignant--something in her
mourned for him uncomprehendingly. She felt that an awful thing had been
done to him, though she did not know what it was. She went up to his
room.

The fire George had built for him was almost smothered under thick,
charred ashes of paper. The lid of his trunk stood open, and the
large upper tray, which she remembered to have seen full of papers and
note-books, was empty. And somehow she understood that Bibbs had given
up the mysterious vocation he had hoped to follow--and that he had
given it up for ever. She thought it was the wisest thing he could have
done--and yet, for an unknown reason, she sat upon the bed and wept a
little before she went down-stairs.

So Sheridan had his way with Bibbs, all through.

CHAPTER XXIX

As Bibbs