Karen, after this, abandoned her attempt to convince Mrs. Talcott. Tea was ready, and they went into the morning-room. Here Mrs. Talcott presided at the tea-table, and for all his dominating preoccupation she continued to engage a large part of Gregory's attention. She sat, leaning back in her chair, slowly eating, her eyes, like tiny, blue stones, immeasurably remote, immeasurably sad, fixed on the sea.
"Is it long since you were in America?" he asked her. He felt drawn to Mrs. Talcott.
"Why, I guess it's getting on for twenty-five years now," she replied, after considering for a moment; "since I've lived there. I've been over three or four times with Mercedes; on tours."
"Twenty-five years since you came over here? That is a long time."
"Oh, it's more than that since I came," said Mrs. Talcott. "Twenty-five years since I lived at home. I came over first nearly fifty years ago. Yes; it's a long time."
"Dear me; you have lived most of your life here, then."
"Yes; you may say I have."
"And don't you ever want to go back to America to stay?"
"I don't know as I do," said Mrs. Talcott.
"You're fonder of it over here, like so many of your compatriots?"