'You must allow for my exaggeration,' said Alma softly. 'One or two have said it—just people who know most about music. And there's a way of putting things.'
'Was Mrs. Carnaby there today?'
'No.'
'You don't see her very often now?'
'Perhaps not quite so often. I suppose the reason is that I am more drawn to the people who care about music. Sibyl really isn't musical—though, of course, I like her as much as ever. Then—the truth is, she seems to have grown rather extravagant, and I simply don't understand how she can keep up such a life—if it's true that her husband is only losing money. Last time I was with her I couldn't help thinking that she ought to—to deny herself rather more. It's habit, I suppose.'
Harvey nodded—twice, thrice; and kept a grave countenance.
'And you don't care to see much of Mrs. Abbott?' he rather let fall than spoke.
'Well, you know, dear, I don't mean to be at all disagreeable, but we have so little in common. Isn't it so? I am sure Mrs. Abbott isn't anxious for my society.'
Again Rolfe sat silent, and again Alma stole glances at him.
'Shall I tell you something I have in mind?' he said at length, with deliberation. 'Hughie, you know, is three years old. Pauline does very well with him, but it is time that he had companions—other children. In half a year or so he might go to a kindergarten, and'—he made an instant's pause—'I know only of one which would be really good for him. I think he will have to go to Mrs. Abbott.'