"Again? Not at all," she answered. "I've done as you asked me to, let her alone. But to-day—mother's day—I got thinking of her."
"Leave your mother out of it, please. What did you say to Laura?"
"I tried to make her go back, of course—"
"And she told you—"
"He wouldn't have her! And then in a perfect tantrum she went on to tell me why!" Edith's eyes were cold with disgust. "And I'm wondering why you let her stay here—in the same house with my children!"
Roger reached out his hand.
"Give me that note," he commanded. He read it quickly and handed it back. The note was from Laura, a hasty good-bye.
"Edith will explain," she wrote, "and you will see I cannot stay any longer. It is simply too impossible. I am going to the man I love—and in a few days we shall sail for Naples. I know you will not interfere. It will make the divorce even simpler and everything easier all round. Please don't worry about me. We shall soon be married over there. You have been so dear and sensible and I do so love you for it." Then came her name scrawled hastily. And at the bottom of the page: "I have paid every bill I can think of."
Edith read it in silence, her color slowly mounting.
"All right," said her father, "your children are safe." She gave him a quick angry look, burst into tears and ran out of the room.