“I have some letters from people in Midland, but I haven’t presented them yet,” he added at the end. “The Brandreths are all I know of society.”
“They’re much more than we know. Well, it seems like fairyland,” said Mrs. Denton, in amiable self-derision. “I used to think that was the way we should live when we left the Family. I suppose there are people in New York that would think it was like fairyland to live like us, and not all in one room. Ansel is always preaching that when I grumble.”
The cat sprang up into her lap, and she began to smooth its long flank, and turn her head from side to side, admiring its enjoyment.
“Well,” Ray said, “whatever we do, we are pretty sure to be sorry we didn’t do something else.”
He was going to lead up to his own disappointments by this commonplace, but Mrs. Denton interposed.
“Oh, I’m not sorry we left the Family, if that’s what you mean. There’s some chance, here, and there everything went by rule; you had your share of the work, and you knew just what you had to expect every day. I used to say I wished something wrong would happen, just so as to have something happen. I believe it was more than half that that got father out, too,” she said, with a look at her sister.
“I thought,” said Ray, “but perhaps I didn’t understand him, that your father wanted to make the world over on the image of your community.”
“I guess he wanted to have the fun of chancing it, too,” said Mrs. Denton. “Of course he wants to make the world over, but he has a pretty good time as it is; and I’m glad of all I did and said to get him into it. He had no chance to bring his ideas to bear on it in the Family.”
“Then it was you who got him out of the community,” said Ray.
“I did my best,” said Mrs. Denton. “But I can’t say I did it, altogether.”