"Mr. Bradley means he must be in New York to continue his professional career, dear Mrs. Bradley," Miss Jencks interposed, "and you must go with him, of course."
"Why?" asked Margarita.
"Because a wife's place is by her husband," said Miss Jencks, after a pause which neither Roger nor I volunteered to fill.
"But why?" Margarita inquired again. "I cannot do Roger's pro—professional career!"
"No, my dear, but you can help him greatly in it," Miss Jencks instructed placidly (she was invaluable, was Barbara, when it was a matter of proper platitude, which flowed from her lips with the ease of water from a tap—and she believed it, too!) "a man needs a woman in his home. Her influence—"
"Yes, I know, you have told me that before. But you could stay with Roger, Miss Jencks, and be that influence," said Margarita sweetly, "and I could go with Jerry." Was she impish, or only ingenuous, I wonder? One could never tell.
"How about the baby?" Roger demanded cheerfully.
"I am not going to nurse it any more," said the mother of little Mary quietly. "Madame said I had better stop it now—it will be better for my voice. So it will not need me. Dolledge knows all about taking care of it."
"But, my dear, are you sure it will be good for Mary not to nurse her? She is not six months old, you know," Miss Jencks suggested mildly.
Margarita leaned her round chin into the cup of her hands and gazed thoughtfully at her mentor.