“They’re in the library. Donald says the trip down was terribly hot and stuffy. He’s changing his things.”
Mrs. Pope snorted. “If he would spend the summer down here with you, as a husband ought, instead of staying in town, fooling with that engineering work of his, he wouldn’t have that hot trip to make every Saturday.”
“Nonsense, mother!” replied Edith. “Donald is perfectly right. I wouldn’t want him to become an idler, living on his wife. He has too much spirit for that.”
“Then if he must stay in town, why doesn’t he get a decent place to live? I don’t think it looks well for him to be staying at that cheap little flat, now that you have plenty of money to take your proper place in society.”
“He likes the old place. He says he was happy there. He thought he might as well stay on till the lease expired.”
“Well, there’s no accounting for tastes. If you are satisfied, I see no reason why I should object.” Mrs. Pope began to fan herself vigorously. “I can get along very well without him.”
Mrs. Rogers went to the door and looked down the long, shady drive.
“Alice seems to be gone a long time. I hope the machine hasn’t broken down.”
“The train is probably late. They generally are on this road. What room are you going to give Mr. Hall?”
“I thought I’d give him the one over the library,” said Edith, as she resumed her chair. “It has a lovely view of the Sound. I know he’ll be glad enough to see it again after being West over six months.”