quiet, anyhow. Mamma's so fussy, and never gets anywhere. I don't
mind you at all, but I wish you'd sit down."

"All right." And he returned to his chair beside the trunk. "Go
ahead and cry all you want, Edith," he said. "No harm in that!"

"Sibyl told mamma--OH!" she began, choking. "Mary Vertrees had mamma
and Sibyl and I to tea, one afternoon two weeks or so ago, and she had
some women there that Sibyl's been crazy to get in with, and she just
laid herself out to make a hit with 'em, and she's been running after
'em ever since, and now she comes over here and says THEY say Bobby
Lamhorn is so bad that, even though they like his family, none of the
nice people in town would let him in their houses. In the first
place, it's a falsehood, and I don't believe a word of it; and in the
second place I know the reason she did it, and, what's more, she KNOWS
I know it! I won't SAY what it is--not yet--because papa and all of
you would think I'm as crazy as she is snaky; and Roscoe's such a fool
he'd probably quit speaking to me. But it's true! Just you watch
her; that's all I ask. Just you watch that woman. You'll see!"

As it happened, Bibbs was literally watching "that woman." Glancing
from the window, he saw Sibyl pause upon the pavement in front of the
old house next door. She stood a moment, in deep thought, then walked
quickly up the path to the door, undoubtedly with the intention of
calling. But he did not mention this to his sister, who, after
delivering herself of a rather vague jeremiad upon the subject of her
sister-in-law's treacheries, departed to her own chamber, leaving him
to his speculations. The chief of these concerned the social
elasticities of women. Sibyl had just been a participant in a violent
scene; she had suffered hot insult of a kind that could not fail to