He woke to a
sense of new riches; he had the feeling of a boy waking to a birthday.
But when the next moment brought him his memory, he found nothing
that could explain his exhilaration. On the contrary, under the
circumstances it seemed grotesquely unwarranted. However, it was a
brief visitation and was gone before he had finished dressing. It
left a little trail, the pleased recollection of it and the puzzle
of it, which remained unsolved. And, in fact, waking happily in the
morning is not usually the result of a drive home from a funeral.
No wonder the sequence evaded Bibbs Sheridan!
His father had gone when he came down-stairs. "Went on down to 's
office, jes' same," Jackson informed him. "Came sat breakfas'-table,
all by 'mself; eat nothin'. George bring nice breakfas', but he di'n'
eat a thing. Yessuh, went on down-town, jes' same he yoosta do.
Yessuh, I reckon putty much ev'y-thing goin' go on same as it yoosta
do."
It struck Bibbs that Jackson was right. The day passed as other days
had passed. Mrs. Sheridan and Edith were in black, and Mrs. Sheridan
cried a little, now and then, but no other external difference was to
be seen.
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