"But if self should happen to be divided against self?"
"Oh, you are just too tantalising for words. I believe there is someone in New York you want to capture."
"No, Kitty, dear, you are quite mistaken. The young men of New York don't appeal to me in the least."
"Then I'll go on badgering you until you promise. In fact, I'll set poppa on to you."
"Please don't," and Madeline rose from her chair and began to pull on her gloves.
That evening, in the privacy of her own room, Madeline debated seriously with herself whether or not she should accept the Harveys' invitation. For many things, she would like to winter in a more genial clime. New York was by no means an ideal city when the thermometer was at zero, and the streets were blocked with snow. In fact, it was not an ideal city under any circumstances, and but that most of her friends were there, she would gladly pitch her tent somewhere else.
There was the further fact to be considered, that the departure of the Harveys meant the departure of the people whom she liked best of all, and New York would be terribly dull when their mansion was no longer open to her to run in and out as she liked.
"I think I'll accept their invitation," she said to herself. "It will be a change, and it's awfully good of them to ask me." Then she hesitated and looked abstractedly out of the window.
"It will mean an absence of six months at least," she went on, after a long pause, and she gave a little sigh and withdrew her eyes from the window.