"Don't you think I've been
using my eyes? There's no earthly use in stepping in now, for Deborah has
lost her head. She sees herself a great new woman with a career. But wait
till the present flare-up subsides, till the newspapers all drop her and
she is thoroughly tired out. Until then, remember, we keep our hands off."
"Do you think you can?" asked Roger, with a little glimmer of hope.
"I?" she retorted. "Most certainly! I mean to leave her alone
absolutely--until she comes to me herself. When she does, we'll know it's
time to begin."
* * * * *
"I'm afraid Edith is hurt about something," said Deborah to her father,
about a month after this little talk. "She hasn't been near us for over
three weeks."
"Let her be!" said Roger, in alarm. "I mean," he hastily added, "why can't
you let Edith come when she likes? There's nothing the matter. It's simply
her children--they take up her time."
"No," said Deborah calmly, "it's I. She as good as told me so last month.
She thinks I've become a perfect fanatic--without a spare moment or
thought for my family."
"Oh, my family!" Roger groaned. "I tell you, Deborah, you're wrong! Edith's
children are probably sick in bed!"
"Then I'll go and see," she answered.
* * * * *
"Something has happened to Deborah," Edith informed him blithely, over the
telephone the next night.
Pages:
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170