"Why not? I mean, not always sober; did you think I meant that? I mean, whether they laugh or talk, doing it heartily, and feeling and thinking as they speak. Or rather, speaking and laughing only as they feel."
"My dear, do you know what would become of society?"
"No. What?"
"I go to see Mrs. Brinkerhoff, for instance. I have something on my mind, and I do not feel like discussing any light matter, so I sit silent. Mrs. Brinkerhoff has a fearfully hard piece of work to keep the conversation going; and when I have departed she votes me a great bore, and hopes I will never come again. When she returns my visit, the conditions are reversed; I vote her a bore; and we conclude it is easier to do without each other's company."
"But do you never find people a bore as it is?"
Mrs. Wishart laughed. "Do you?"
"Sometimes. At least I should if I lived among them. Now, all is new, and I am curious."
"I can tell you one thing, Lois; nobody votes you a bore."
"But I never talk as they do."
"Never mind. There are exceptions to all rules. But, my dear, even you must not be always so desperately in earnest. By the way! That handsome young Mr. Caruthers—does he make himself a bore too? You have seen a good deal of him."