Mr. Everet said it was refreshing to find a natural, unaffected, candid woman in Washington. I do think it must seem a relief to men. If women did as Edgar wishes me to do, the men would be in a terrible plight. They would have to hate all the women in self-defence.
I couldn't help observing the interest Mr. Everet seems to feel in me—though I really should not have thought of it if Edgar had not suggested it. For a moment there was a certain fascination in the idea of making a strong, dignified man do just what a helpless insignificant little woman like me wants him to do.
As a sort of experiment, I made him go to Gladys Grayson's after the affair at the minister's although he had said that he had an important appointment at eleven, and that a great deal depended on his keeping it—but he went to the Graysons'. Of course, I didn't care a fig whether he went or not; only, as I say, it was a kind of experiment.
I'm frightfully tired, and here it is three o'clock and I still up.
Edgar will be at home on Friday, and this is Wednesday morning. I shall be glad to tell him again, how I scorn his proposition—I shall tell him that Mr. Everet noticed my pallor, and I think he will feel a little ashamed of himself. He ought to.
XXVII.
[From Helen's Diary.]
February —. Arose, breakfasted, and went for a drive; stopped at Gladys's on the way home; had tea with her in her boudoir.
Mr. Grayson wanted to come in too, but Gladys wouldn't let him. She says he is really a terrible bore; that she has to keep him down or he would run right over her. I wish Edgar would run right over me. She says that Mr. Grayson never seems to remember that after a woman has discharged all her duties, she is absolutely too worn out for the little et ceteras and asides of life. I think she is right. She is one of those women who carry conviction with all they say; but I always feel in some way that Edgar is a duty instead of an et cetera and an aside. I dare say I shall get over this in time. Gladys assures me I will.