His face, before his lips got a chance, told his father of his decision. But his lips did not lag long behind. He had expected that his father would be pleased; but he was not quite prepared for the depth of emotion that shook his father's voice and dimmed his father's eyes, and that ended the half-uttered declaration of joy with what was very near a sob. If anything, indeed, were needed to convince Burke that he was doing just right in taking this trip with his father, it could be needed no longer after the look of ineffable peace and joy on that father's face. Breakfast, with so much to talk of, prolonged itself like a college spread, until Burke, with a cry of dismay, pulled out his watch and leaped to his feet. "Jove! Do you know what time it is, dad?" he cried laughingly. "Behold how this life of luxury has me already in its clutches! I should have been off an hour ago." John Denby lifted a detaining hand. "Not so fast, my boy," he smiled. "I've got you, and I mean to keep you--a few minutes longer." "But--" "Oh, I telephoned Brett this morning that you wouldn't be down till late, if you came at all." "You telephoned _this morning_!" puzzled Burke, sinking slowly into his chair again. "But you didn't know then that I--" He stopped once more. "No, I didn't know then that you'd agree to my proposition," answered John Denby, with a characteristically grim smile. "But I knew, if you did agree, we'd _both_ have some talking to do. And if you didn't--_I_ should. I meant still to convince you, you see." "I see," nodded the younger man, smiling in his turn. "So I wouldn't go down this morning. We've lots of plans to make. Besides, there's your letter." "Yes, there's--my--letter." This time the young man did not smile. "I've got to write my letter, of course." CHAPTER X BY ADVICE OF COUNSEL Helen Denby received the letter from her husband at two o'clock by a special messenger. Helen had passed a sleepless night and an unhappy morning. The surge of bitter anger which at first, like the ink, had blackened everything it touched, soon spent itself, and left her weak and trembling. Dorothy Elizabeth, after her somewhat upsetting day, sank into an unusually sound slumber; but her mother, all through the long night watches, lay with sleepless eyes staring into the dark, thinking. Helen was very angry with Burke. There was no gainsaying that. She was a little frightened, too, at what she herself had said. In a soberer moment she would not have spoken quite like that, certainly. But it had been so hateful--his asking if she called that a happy home! As if she did not want a happy home as much as he ever could! To Helen, then, came her old vision of the daintily gowned wife welcoming her husband to the well-kept home; and all in the dark her cheek flushed hot.