“I’ve heard that all women like a master,” suggested Frothingham.
“So do men. Everyone likes to bow to real superiority and serve it, when he or she finds it. But the difficulty comes in trying to convince a man or a woman that he or she has met a superior.”
“Well, then—perhaps women are more easily convinced than men.”
Honoria smiled satirically. “They seem to be,” she replied, “because they are prudent. But if some husbands only knew what their wives really thought, they might be less easy in their vanity than they are.”
“That ain’t true of our English women,” said Frothingham.
“No—and why? Because, milord, they don’t think.”
“Well—my wife can do as she jolly well pleases if she’ll only let me alone.”
“If she’s an American you may be sure she will do as she jolly well pleases—and you may also be sure that it won’t please you to be jolly as she does it.”
Just then a servant came in to say that Catherine was at the door in her carriage, and wished to know whether Honoria was at home. Honoria looked at Frothingham inquiringly.
“As you please,” said Frothingham, settling his eyeglass firmly, and clearing his face of expression.