Helen’s remonstrances had no effect.
“You’re foolish to think of such a thing as my camping on you. Why I may be here for several months. No, I couldn’t. Besides we’ll have a really better time if we don’t have to be guesting each other. And I get a reasonable amount for expenses which really needn’t be added on to your grocery bill. Gage has party expense enough.”
Gage was very cordial, particularly as he saw that her visit was not to be indefinite. It hurried him perhaps into greater gallantry than he might have otherwise shown. He did everything to be the obliging host and to his surprise enjoyed himself immensely. Margaret was more than a good talker. She gave him inside talk on some things that had happened in Washington. She could discuss politicians with him. No one spoke of the deteriorating influences of marriage and the home on women. Margaret was delightful with the children. She did not hint at a desire to see him psychoanalyzed. He found himself rather more coöperative than antagonistic and on the day of Margaret’s definite removal to her new room he was even sorry.
Helen found the new room most attractive. It was a one-room and bath apartment, so-called, furnished rather badly but with a great deal of air and light.
“It feels like college,” she said, sinking down on a cretonne covered couch bed. “Atrocious furniture but so delightfully independent. What fun it must be to feel so solidly on your own, Margaret.”
“Not always fun, but satisfying,” said Margaret, making a few passes at straightening furniture.
Helen sighed faintly and then lost the sigh in a little laugh.
“I’m actually afraid to ask you some things,” she admitted, “I’m afraid of what you’ll say. Would you really sooner not be married?”
“I think so. Emotional moments of course. On the whole I think I’d rather not be.”
“But you didn’t always feel that way.”