"But I didn't know this was a visit, Frieda. I thought you had gone away for good. Indeed, I am under the impression that you said you never wished to see me again."
Frieda shook her head.
"I never could have really said that, Henry, or if I did, you were silly to think I meant it. I often say lots of things I don't mean. And I have wanted to see you lots lately."
Professor Russell took Frieda's cup away and laid firm hold on both her hands.
"Look at me, Frieda," he ordered quietly, "and don't answer me until you have thought carefully about what you wish to reply. You have been a child a long time, Frieda, but my dear, you have to grow up. All of us must sooner or later. I am a good deal older than you and not only that but I care for a lot of things which seem dull and uninteresting to you. So do you care for things which do not seem vital to me. But I'm willing to confess I'm an old fogy and sometimes I believe, Frieda dear, I did you a great wrong when I married you at such a youthful age. I want you to know, my dear, that I want to do whatever is best for your happiness. I am willing to go out of your life, to relieve you of me altogether if in any way it can be managed without reflection upon you."
"Then you mean you don't love me any more, Henry, you can't forgive me for what I did," Frieda gasped, turning really honestly pale this time. Professor Russell shook his head.
"I don't mean any such thing, Frieda child. Moreover, you know perfectly well that I don't and that it is exceedingly reprehensible for you to go on flirting in this way with your own husband unless you also care for him."
Frieda sighed with satisfaction and lifted up her face to her husband, plainly suggesting by her expression what she expected him to do.
The moment after, she said, with that funny look of gravity which no one ever paid any special attention to from her.
"Do you know, Henry, if you say things like that to me oftener, I feel sure I will care for you more. But please get your hat and come with me now, I want to introduce you to a very dear, old friend of mine in Granchester. Afterwards, if your hand does not hurt, you must go up to Kent House with me to dinner. I intend to let Jack and Frank know that I can manage my own affairs and do not in the future intend to be kept in the dark as if I were a silly child."