Roger smoked in silence. His whole family was about his ears.
"My boy," he muttered earnestly, "you and I must stick together."
"We sure must," agreed his son-in-law. "And what's more, if we're to keep the peace, we've got to try to put some punch into Deborah's so-called love affair. She ought to get married and settle down."
"Yes," said Roger, dubiously. "Only let's keep it to ourselves."
"No chance of that," was the cheerful reply. "You can't keep Edith out of it. It would only make trouble in my family." Roger gave him a pitying look and said,
"Then, for the Lord's sake, let her in!"
So they took Edith into their councils, and she gave them an indulgent smile.
"Suppose you leave this to me," she commanded. "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."