"Good-night, child, get a fine long sleep."
And Roger went down to his study, feeling they had made a good start.
"What has become of Martha?" Edith asked her father at breakfast the next morning.
"She left last month to be married," he said.
"And Deborah hasn't replaced her yet?" In her voice was such a readiness for hostility toward her sister, that Roger shot an uneasy glance from under his thick grayish brows.
"Has Deborah left the house?" he asked, to gain time for his answer. Edith's small lip slightly curled.
"Oh, yes, long ago," she replied. "She had just a moment to see the children and then she had to be off to school—to her office, I mean. With so many schools on her hands these days, I don't wonder she hasn't had time for the servants."
"No, no, you're mistaken," he said. "That isn't the trouble, it's not her fault. In fact it was all my idea."
"Your idea," she retorted, in an amused affectionate tone. And Roger grimly gathered himself. It would he extremely difficult breaking his unpleasant news.