"Sudbury Gray, I think--with Scott Innis for an understudy--perhaps the
Draymore man as alternate--I don't know; there's time."

"Plenty," he said vaguely, staring into the fire where a log had
collapsed into incandescent ashes.

She continued to talk about Eileen until she noticed that his mind was
on other matters--his preoccupied stare enlightened her. She said
nothing for a while.

But he woke up when Austin came in and settled his big body in a chair.

"Drina, the little minx, called me back on some flimsy pretext," he
said, relighting his cigar; "I forgot that time was going--and she was
wily enough to keep me talking until Miss Paisely caught me at it and
showed me out. I tell you," turning on Selwyn--"children are what make
life worth wh--" He ceased abruptly at a gentle tap from his wife's
foot, and Selwyn looked up.

Whether or not he divined the interference he said very quietly: "I'd
rather have had children than anything in the world. They're about the
best there is in life; I agree with you, Austin."

His sister, watching him askance, was relieved to see his troubled face
become serene, though she divined the effort.

"Kids are the best," he repeated, smiling at her. "Failing them, for
second choice, I've taken to the laboratory. Some day I'll invent
something and astonish you, Nina."