"Oh, there is some mistake. Why, Thérèse herself …"
Her voice trailed off; she stared before her in a puzzled fashion.
Then reluctantly her eyes met the young man's.
"Then you think," she said hesitatingly, "that she didn't send it after all?"
"There's no question about it; I know she didn't."
The old lady shook her head slowly, utterly perplexed.
"But why? I can't see the least sense in it."
Roger sank upon the Chesterfield sofa and pushed his hair back from his forehead.
"Why? Because she didn't want me to come, I suppose. Of course, you must realise that Thérèse isn't fond of me."
"But even so, it's so—so stupid! You were sure to hear about your father sooner or later."
"Yes. I should think she merely meant to postpone it a little. I have figured it out like this: she dislikes to have me here, so she omitted to send that cable in order to put off my knowing the old man was ill. Not hearing from me, in a few days you'd cable again. Then I should wire back to ask if there was any necessity of my coming over, she would show the message to Father, knowing perfectly well he would insist on my staying to finish up the business. She knows he would have to be in the last extremity before he'd be willing for me to quit in the middle of a big job. In the end the chances were I'd not have to come at all. Do you see?"