shining up
into his own.

"What a time you've been having, haven't you, dear!" his daughter cried
unsteadily. "Fairly lying awake at night and racking your brains for
everything modern I've ever said--to turn it and twist it and use it
against me!"

"Well?" he demanded. "How does it twist?"

"It twists hard, thank you," she declared. "You've turned and twisted me
about till I barely see how I can live at all!"

"You can, though! Marry Allan Baird!"

"I'll think it over--later on."

"What is there left to think about? Can you point to one hole in all I've
said?"

"Yes, a good many--and one right off."

"Out with it!"

"You're not dying," Deborah told him calmly, "I feel quite certain you'll
live for years."

"Oh, you do, eh--then see my physician!"

"I will, I'll see him to-morrow. How long did you give yourself? Just a few
months?"

"No, he said it might be more," admitted Roger grudgingly. "If I had no
worries to wear me out--"

"Me, you mean."

"Exactly."

"Well, you've worried quite enough. You're going to leave it to me to
decide."

"Very well," he agreed. He looked at her. "You have listened--hard?" he
gruffly asked.

"Yes, dear." Her hands slowly tightened on his. "But don't speak of this
again. You're to leave it to me. You promise?"

"Yes."

And Roger left her.

He went to bed but he could not sleep. With a sudden sag in his spirits he
felt what a bungler he had been. He was not used to these solemn talks, he
told himself irately. What a fool to try it! And how had Deborah taken it
all? He did not mind her laughter, nor that lighter tone of hers. It was
only her way of ending the talk, an easy way out for both of them. But what
had she thought underneath? Had his points gone home? He tried to remember
them. Pshaw! He had been too excited, and he could recall scarcely
anything. He had not meant to speak of Baird--he had meant to leave him
out! Yes, how he must have bungled it! Doubtless she was smiling still.
Even the news about himself she had not taken seriously.

But as he thought about that news, Roger's mood completely changed. The
talk of the evening grew remote, his family no longer real, mere little
figures, shadowy, receding swiftly far away.... Much quieter now, he lay a
long time listening to the life of the house, the occasional sounds from
the various rooms. From the nursery adjoining came little Bruce's piping
laugh, and Roger could hear the nurse moving about. Afterwa