“So he does. Well, he and I must have a good talk.”
Molly looked at her doubtfully. “Aunt Vyvian, I don’t think so. Truly I don’t.”
“Well, I do, my dear. I’m responsible to your parents for you, and your young man’s got to be careful of you, and I shall tell him so.”
She told him so in the drawing-room after dinner next evening. She sat out from bridge on purpose to tell him. She said, “I was surprised and shocked yesterday afternoon, Eddy, as no doubt you gathered.”
Eddy admitted that he had gathered that. “Do you mind if I say that I was too, a little?” he added. “Is that rude? I hope not.”
“Not in the least. I’ve no doubt you were shocked; but I don’t think really that you can have been much surprised, you know. Did you honestly expect me and Molly to stay and have tea with Mrs. Le Moine? She’s not a person whom Molly ought to know. She’s stepped deliberately outside the social pale, and must stay there. Seriously, Eddy, you mustn’t bring her and Molly together.”
“Seriously,” said Eddy, “I mean to. I want Molly to know and care for all my friends. Of course she’ll find in lots of them things she wouldn’t agree with; but that’s no barrier. I can’t shut her out, don’t you see? I know all these people so awfully well, and see so much of them; of course she must know them too. As for Mrs. Le Moine, she’s one of the finest people I know; I should think anyone would be proud to know her. Surely one can’t be rigid about things?”
“One can,” Mrs. Crawford asserted. “One can, and one is. One draws one’s line. Or rather the world draws it for one. Those who choose to step outside it must remain outside it.”
Eddy said softly, “Bother the world!”
“I’m not going,” she returned, “to do any such thing. I belong to the world, and am much attached to it. And about this sort of thing it happens to be entirely right. I abide by its decrees, and so must Molly, and so must you.”