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Morgan was obliged to go home on the following morning, but Edna remained a full fortnight. On the day of her return Morgan was pleased to perceive that the trip had evidently done her good. Not only did she look brighter and fresher, but there was a sparkling gayety in her manner which suggested that the change had served as a tonic. Morgan did not suspect that this access of spirits was occasioned by the secret she was cherishing until she confronted him with it in the evening.

“My dear,” she said, “you would never guess what has happened, so I won’t ask you to try. I wonder what you will think of it. Mr. Dale is going to ask you–has asked you to go into his business–to become one of his partners.”

“Asked me?”

“Yes. It seems you made a good impression on him from the first–especially the last evening when you sat up together. It came about through Mrs. Dale, I think. That is, Mr. Dale has been looking about for some time for what he calls the right sort of man to take in, for one of his partners has died recently and the business is growing; and Mrs. Dale seems to have had us on her mind because she had got it into her head that we were dreadfully poor. I don’t think she has at all a definite idea of what your occupation is. But the long and short of it is her husband wants you. He told me so himself in black and white, and you will receive a letter from him within a day or two.”

“Wants me to become a broker?”

“A banker and broker.”

“And–er–give up my regular work?”

Edna nervously smoothed out the lap of her dress as though she realized that she might be inflicting pain, but she raised her steady eyes and said with pleasant firmness:

“You would have to, of course, wouldn’t you? But Mr. Dale explained that you would be expected to keep a special eye on the mechanical and scientific interests of the firm. He said he had told you about them. So all that would be in your line of work, wouldn’t it?”

“I understand–I understand. It would amount to nothing from the point of view of my special field of investigation,” he answered a little sternly. “What reply did you make to him, Edna?”

“I merely said that I would tell you of the offer; that I didn’t know what you would think.”

“I wish you had refused it then and there.”

“I couldn’t do that, of course. The decision did not rest with me. Besides, Morgan, I thought you might think that we could not–er–afford to refuse it, and that as you would still be more or less connected with scientific matters, you might regard it as a happy compromise. Mr. Dale said,” she continued with incisive clearness in which there was a tinge of jubilation, “that on a conservative estimate you could count on ten or twelve thousand dollars a year, and his manner suggested that your share of the profits would be very much more than that.”

“The scientific part is a mere sop; it amounts to nothing. I should be a banker, engaged in floating new financial enterprises and selling their securities to the public.”

There was a brief silence. Edna rose and seating herself on the sofa beside him took his hands and said with solemn emphasis, “Morgan, if you think you will be unhappy–if you are satisfied that this change would not be the best thing for us, say so and let us give it up. Give it up and we will never think of it again.”

He looked her squarely in the face. “My God, Edna, I don’t know what to answer! It’s a temptation. So many things would be made easy. It comes to this, Is a man justified in refusing such an opportunity and sacrificing his wife and children in order to be true to his—-?”