“What is a comedy?” asked Henry. “What is a tragedy?” “Good Heavens, Henry,” said his father, laughingly, “I never saw anybody in my life who could ask as many questions as you. You wear the life out of me!” “He doesn’t bother _me_ with them,” said his mother, her inflection presenting the statement as a proof of her superior merit. Henry shrank a little smaller. His father hastened to explain what a tragedy was and what a comedy was. Another silence fell. Then, “Quite cold to-day,” said Mr. Knapp. “The boys at the office said that the thermometer....” He had tried to stop himself the moment the word “office” was out of his mouth. But it was too late. He stuck fast at “thermometer,” for an instant and then, hurriedly as if quite aware that no one cared how he finished the sentence, he added, “stood at only ten above this morning.” Mrs. Knapp had glanced up sharply at the word “office” and her eyes had darkened at the pause afterwards. She was looking hard at her husband now, as if his hesitation, as if his accent had told her something. “Young Mr. Willing didn’t get back to-day, did he?” she asked gravely. Mr. Knapp took a long drink of his hot chocolate. “Yes, he did,” he said at last, setting down his cup and looking humbly at his wife. “Did they announce the reorganization ... the way he’s going to....” asked Mrs. Knapp. As if she did not know the answer already! They both already knew everything that was to be asked and answered, but there seemed no escape from going on. “Yes, they did,” said Mr. Knapp, trying to chew on a mouthful of steak. “Who did they put in charge of your office?” asked Mrs. Knapp, adding in an aside, “Helen, don’t hold your fork like that.” “Harvey Bronson,” said Mr. Knapp, trying to make it sound like any other name. “Oh,” said Mrs. Knapp. She made no comment on the news. She made it a point never to criticize their father before the children. Helen’s eyes went over timidly towards her father, sideways under lowered lids. She wished she dared give him a loving look of reassurance to show him how dearly she loved him and sympathized with him because he had not had the advancement they had all hoped for so long, because a younger man and one who was especially mean to Father had been put over his head. Her heart swelled and ached. She would get Father off in a corner after dinner and give him a big silent hug. He would understand. But as it happened, she did not. Other things happened. * * * * * There was almost total silence during the rest of the meal. Mrs. Knapp did not eat another mouthful of food after her husband’s news. The others made a pretense of cutting up food and swallowing it. Helen and Henry cleared off the table and brought in the dessert.