Bibbs followed his father and Roscoe into the library, but was not well received.
"YOU go and listen to the phonograph with the women-folks," Sheridan commanded.
Bibbs retreated.

"Sometimes you do seem to be a hard sort of man!" he said.
However, he went obediently to the gilt-and-brocade room in which his mother and his sister and his sister-in-law had helplessly withdrawn, according to their Sabbatical custom.

Edith sat in a corner, tapping her feet together and looking at them; Sibyl sat in the center of the room, examining a brooch which she had detached from her throat; and Mrs.
Sheridan was looking over a collection of records consisting exclusively of Caruso and rag-time.

She selected one of the latter, remarking that she thought it "right pretty," and followed it with one of the former and the same remark.
As the second reached its conclusion, George appeared in the broad doorway, seeming to have an errand there, but he did not speak.

Instead, he favored Edith with a benevolent smile, and she immediately left the room, George stepping aside for her to precede him, and then disappearing after her in the hall with an air of successful diplomacy.
He made it perfectly clear that Edith had given him secret instructions and that it had been his pride and pleasure to fulfil them to the letter.
Sibyl stiffened in her chair; her lips parted, and she watched with curious eyes the vanishing back of the white jacket.
"What's that ?" she asked, in a low voice, but sharply.
"Here's another right pretty record," said Mrs.Sheridan, affecting--with patent nervousness--not to hear.