"I suppose there's no hope of persuading her to be Antigone?"
"Don't suggest it again, Jack. The idea hurt her so."
"I won't. I understand. When is Rose coming?"
"In a day or two. She is to spend the rest of the winter with the Langleys.
What do you think of for her?"
"Helen appearing between the soldiers, before Hecuba and Menelaus. I only wish that Imogen had more influence over Rose. Your theory about her power doesn't hold good there."
"Ah, even there, I don't give up hope. Rose doesn't really know Imogen. And then Rose is a child in many ways, a dear, but a spoiled, child."
"What do you think of Mrs. Upton, now that you see something of her?" Jack asked abruptly.
"She is very sweet and kind, Jack. She is working so hard for all of us.
She is going to make my robe. She is addressing envelopes now—and you know
how dull that is. I am sure I used to misjudge her. But, she is very queer,
Jack."
"Queer? In what way queer?" Jack asked, placing himself on the sofa, his legs stretched out before him, his hands in his pockets.
"I hardly know how to express it. She is so light, yet so deep; and I can't make out why or where she is deep; it's there that the queerness comes in. I feel it in her smile, the way she looks at you; I believe I feel it more than she does. She doesn't know she's deep."