out after dark, so nobody’d catch on!” Again she gave way to her enjoyment, but resumed, as her husband seemed about to interrupt the narrative.  “Wait a minute, can’t you?  The old lady was superintending, and she gave it all away.  I sized her up for one of those old churchy people that tell all kinds of lies except when it comes to so many words, and then they can’t.  She might just as well told me outright!  Yes, they’d sold it; and I hope they’ll pay some of their debts.  They owe everybody, and last week a coal-dealer made an awful fuss at the door with Mr. Vertrees.  Their cook told our upstairs girl, and she said she didn’t know when she’d seen any money, herself!  Did you ever hear of such a case as that girl in your life?”

“What girl?  Their cook?”

“That Vertrees girl!  Don’t you see they looked on our coming up into this neighborhood as their last chance?  They were just going down and out, and here bobs up the green, rich Sheridan family!  So they doll the girl up in her old things, made over, and send her out to get a Sheridan—­she’s got to get one!  And she just goes in blind; and she tries it on first with you.  You remember, she just plain told you she was going to mash you, and then she found out you were the married one, and turned right square around to Jim and carried him off his feet.  Oh, Jim was landed—­there’s no doubt about that!  But Jim was lucky; he didn’t live to stay landed, and it’s a good thing for him!” Sibyl’s mirth had vanished, and she spoke with virulent rapidity.  “Well, she couldn’t get you, because you were married, and she couldn’t get Jim, because Jim died.  And there they were, dead broke!  Do you know what she did?  Do you know what she’s doing?”

“No, I don’t,” said Roscoe, gruffly.

Sibyl’s voice rose and culminated in a scream of renewed hilarity.  “Bibbs!  She waited in the grave-yard, and drove home with him from Jim’s funeral!  Never spoke to him before!  Jim wasn’t cold!”

She rocked herself back and forth upon the divan.  “Bibbs!” she shrieked.  “Bibbs!  Roscoe, think of it!  Bibbs!”

He stared unsympathetically, but her mirth was unabated for all that.  “And yesterday,” she continued, between paroxysms—­“yesterday she came out of the house—­just as he was passing.  She must have been looking out—­waiting for the chance; I saw the old lady watching at the window!  And she got him there last night—­to ‘play’ to him; the old lady gave that away!  And to-day she made him take her out in a machine!  And the cream of it is that they didn’t even know whether he was insane or not—­they thought maybe he was, but she went after him just the same!  The old lady set herself to pump me about it to-day.  Bibbs!  Oh, my Lord!  Bibbs!”

But Roscoe looked grim.  “So it’s funny to you, is it?  It sounds kind of pitiful to me.  I should think it would to a woman, too.”