Bibbs
came in noiselessly and sat in a corner, doing nothing; and from a
"reception-room" across the hall an indistinct vocal murmur became
just audible at intervals. Once, when this murmur grew louder,
under stress of some irrepressible merriment, Edith's voice could be
heard--"Bobby, aren't you awful!" and Sheridan glanced across at his
wife appealingly.
She rose at once and went into the "reception-room"; there was a
flurry of whispering, and the sound of tiptoeing in the hall--Edith
and her suitor changing quarters to a more distant room. Mrs.
Sheridan returned to her chair in the library.
"They won't bother you any more, papa," she said, in a comforting
voice. "She told me at lunch he'd 'phoned he wanted to come up this
evening, and I said I thought he'd better wait a few days, but she
said she'd already told him he could." She paused, then added, rather
guiltily: "I got kind of a notion maybe Roscoe don't like him as much
as he used to. Maybe--maybe you better ask Roscoe, papa." And as
Sheridan nodded solemnly, she concluded, in haste: "Don't say I said
to. I might be wrong about it, anyway."
He nodded again, and they sat for some time in a silence which Mrs.
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