"I don't want to; I only want to let it alone. She's an artist; you must give her her head," the young man pursued. "You must always give an artist his head."
"But I've known great ladies who were artists. In English society there's always a field."
"Don't talk to me of English society! Thank goodness, in the first place, I don't live in it. Do you want her to give up her genius?" he demanded.
"I thought you didn't care for it."
"She'd say, 'No I thank you, dear mamma.'"
"My wonderful child!" Mrs. Rooth almost comprehendingly murmured.
"Have you ever proposed it to her?"
"Proposed it?"
"That she should give up trying."
Mrs. Rooth hesitated, looking down. "Not for the reason you mean. We don't talk about love," she simpered.