“She left last month to be married,” he said.

“And Deborah hasn’t replaced her yet?” In her voice was such a readiness for hostility toward her sister, that Roger shot an uneasy glance from under his thick grayish brows.

“Has Deborah left the house?” he asked, to gain time for his answer.  Edith’s small lip slightly curled.

“Oh, yes, long ago,” she replied.  “She had just a moment to see the children and then she had to be off to school—­to her office, I mean.  With so many schools on her hands these days, I don’t wonder she hasn’t had time for the servants.”

“No, no, you’re mistaken,” he said.  “That isn’t the trouble, it’s not her fault.  In fact it was all my idea.”

“Your idea,” she retorted, in an amused affectionate tone.  And Roger grimly gathered himself.  It would he extremely difficult breaking his unpleasant news.

“Yes,” he answered.  “You see this damnable war abroad has hit me in my business.”

“Oh, father!  How?” she asked him.  In an instant she was all alert.  “You don’t mean seriously?” she said.

“Yes, I do,” he answered, and he began to tell her why.  But she soon grew impatient.  Business details meant nothing to Edith.  “I see,” she kept saying, “yes, yes, I see.”  She wanted him to come to the point.

“So I’ve had to mortgage the house,” he concluded.  “And for very little money, my dear.  And a good deal of that—­” he cleared his throat—­“had to go back into the business.”

“I see,” said Edith mechanically.  Her mind was already far away, roving over her plans for the children.  For in Roger’s look of suspense she plainly read that other plans had been made for them in her absence.  “Deborah’s in this!” flashed through her mind.  “Tell me what it will mean,” she said.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to try to do without your nurse for a while.”

“Let Hannah go?  Oh, father!” And Edith flushed with quick dismay.  “How can I, dad?  Five children—­five!  And two of them so little they can’t even dress themselves alone!  And there are all their meals—­their baths—­and the older ones going uptown to school!  I can’t let them go way uptown on the ’bus or the trolley without a maid—­”

“But, Edith!” he interrupted, his face contracting with distress.  “Don’t you see that they can’t go to school?” She turned on him.  “Uptown, I mean, to those expensive private schools.”

“Father!” she demanded.  “Do you mean you want my children to go to common public schools?” There was rage and amazement upon her pretty countenance, and with it an instant certainty too.  Yes, this was Deborah’s planning!  But Roger thought that Edith’s look was all directed at himself.  And for the first time in his life he felt the shame and humility of the male provider no longer able to provide.  He reddened and looked down at his plate.

“You don’t understand,” he said.  “I’m strapped, my child—­I can’t help it—­I’m poor.”