"More than I'd have thought possible. And after I've taken her about in the world a while she'll be perfect."
"No doubt," said Norman. "But, alas, she'll never be perfect. For, you're not going to take her about."
"So she says when I talk of it to her," replied Ursula. "But I know you'll insist. You needn't be uneasy as to how she'll be received."
"I'm not," said Norman dryly.
"You've got back all you lost—and more. How we Americans do worship success!"
"Don't suggest to Dorothy anything further about society," said Norman. "I've no time or taste for it, and I don't wish to be annoyed by intrusions into my home."
"But you'll not be satisfied always with just her," urged his sister. "Besides, you've got a position to maintain."
Norman's smile was cynically patient. "I want my home and I want my career," said he. "And I don't want any society nonsense. I had the good luck to marry a woman who knows and cares nothing about it. I don't purpose to give up the greatest advantage of my marriage."
Ursula was astounded. She knew the meaning of his various tones and manners, and his way of rejecting her plans for Dorothy—and, incidentally, for her own amusement—convinced her that he was through and through in earnest. "It will be dreadfully lonesome for her, Fred," she pleaded.
"We'll wait till that trouble faces us," replied he, not a bit impressed. "And don't forget—not a word of temptation to her from you." This with an expression that warned her how well he knew her indirect ways of accomplishing what she could not gain directly.