“But you’d sooner have these?”
He became a little irritated that she should have to ask such a question. Merely asking it assumed that he was hankering after things that he was not even wanting—that he wasn’t a devoted parent.
“Wouldn’t you?” he countered, rather cruelly.
Cecily merely looked at him in high reproach.
Then, because he felt a little conscience-smitten at the fact that Cecily was hurt, he followed her into her room and played with the little baby, who had waked up for his supper. He was a very gay father and ordinarily Cecily loved this mood and joined him in it, but to-night she was wrapped in seriousness.
“Of course they’ll be older soon, and then I can leave them to a nurse, but while I am still nursing the baby, I don’t see how I can manage a lot of society.”
“For Heaven’s sake, Cecily, don’t be so absurd. Who wants you to do society? I wouldn’t let you if you wanted to. Who could be happier than I am just as I am?”
Cecily sighed. “I know you’re happy,” she said, “and I’m happy. But this thing that came up to-night isn’t new. I hear it from other people—people who talk about my being ‘tied down’ and say I ought to enjoy myself while I’m young; people who say that they never see you about any more and talk about how you used to enjoy dancing and such things; women who say they don’t intend to have babies. You’ve no idea how they talk.”
“Haven’t I? Don’t I get the looks from the women who imply I’m some sort of monster because you have three children at your age?”
“I love the children. I couldn’t not have them.”