"Home!" exclaimed Mrs. Copley. "Do you mean home? Boston?"
"A Boston woman thinks Boston is the centre of the universe, you may notice," said Mr. Copley, turning to Mr. Thayer. "It's a curious peculiarity. No matter what other cities on the face of the earth you show her, her soul turns back to Boston."
"Don't say anything against Boston," said Mrs. Thayer; "it's a good little place. I know, when Mr. Thayer first carried me there, it took me a while to get accustomed to it;—things on a different scale, you know, and looked at from a different point of view; but I soon found admirers, and then friends. Oh, I assure you, Boston and I were very fond of each other in those days; and though I lost my claims to admiration a long time ago, I have kept my friends."
"I have no doubt the admirers are still there too," said Mr. Copley. "Does Mrs. Thayer mean to say she has no admirers? I profess myself one!"
"Christina takes the admiration now-a-days. I am contented with that."
"And so you conquer by proxy."
"Mr. Copley," here put in his wife, "if you do not mean America by 'home,' what do you mean? and where are you going?"
"Where my home has been for a number of years. England—London."
"But you have given up your office?"
"I am half sorry, that is a fact."