“I don’t see what she could have against you.” Ellen was ready to take up the cudgels.
“I gave a little talk before the Guild one day, and she has scarcely spoken to me since.”
“What could you have said to offend her?”
“Oh, I don’t know; she was offended on general principles. For one thing I said that self-esteem doesn’t like suggestion, gives suggestion but won’t take it; that the Kaiser was such an example of self-aggrandizement, vainglory, and hypocrisy that he might really do some good by showing the world how despicable those qualities are. Then she thought I was utterly lost when I told my audience that the men in the trenches considered cowardice, selfishness, niggardliness, and boastfulness were the cardinal sins, worse, well, than some other things.”
“Yes, I know; I’ve heard my father say that, too,” responded Ellen. “I think it was splendid for you to go over and help, Cousin Rindy.”
“Why shouldn’t I have gone? There was nothing to prevent. Nobody suffered by my going. It was a great experience, and I did help a little, whatever Sophia may think of it. The trouble with her is that she looms up so large in her foreground that others can be seen only around the edges of her personality; that never gets any one very far. Get down, Wipers; you’re in the way.”
“Why do you call him Wipers?” asked Ellen, picking up the big gray cat and cuddling him in her arms.
“That’s the way the boys pronounced Ypres, and it is in memory of war days. I wanted an original name and I have it, don’t you think?”
“I do, indeed. I like it better now that I know. Are there many others in town as gossipy and critical as Miss Garrett and Mrs. Perry?”
“No, as far as I know I should say that they head the list.”