d says that I am free enough, certainly. But it 's the
general fact I mean; I wish you would tell him about the general fact. I
think he would believe you, because he knows you know a great deal about
history and all that. I don't mean this evening, but some time when
it is convenient. He did n't want to come in--he wanted to stay in the
carriage and smoke a cigar; he thought you would n't like it, his coming
with me the first time. But I told him he need n't mind that, for I
would certainly explain. I would be very careful to let you know that
I brought him only as a substitute. A substitute for whom? A substitute
for my husband, of course. My dear Mrs. Vivian, of course I ought to
bring you some pretty message from Gordon--that he is dying to come and
see you, only that he had nineteen letters to write and that he could
n't possibly stir from his fireside. I suppose a good wife ought to
invent excuses for her husband--ought to throw herself into the breach;
is n't that what they call it? But I am afraid I am not a good wife.
Do you think I am a good wife, Mr. Longueville? You once stayed three
months with us, and you had a chance to see. I don't ask you that
seriously, because you never tell the truth. I always do; so I will
say I am not a good wife. And then the breach is too big, and I am too
little. Oh, I am too little, Mrs. Vivian; I know I am too little. I am
the smallest woman living; Gordon can scarcely see me with a microscope,
and I believe he has the most powerful one in America. He is going to
get another here; that is one of the things he came abroad for; perhaps
it will do better. I do tell the truth, don't I, Mrs. Vivian? I have
that merit, if I have n't any other. You once told me so at Baden; you
said you could say one thing for me, at any rate--that I did n't tell
fibs. You were very nice to me at Baden," Blanche went on, with her
little intent smile, laying her hand in that of her hostess. "You see,
I have never forgotten it. So, to keep up my reputation, I must tell the
truth about Gordon. He simply said he would n't come--voila! He gave no
reason and he did n't send you any pretty message. He simply declined,
and he went out somewhere else. So you see he is n't writing letters. I
don't know where he can have gone; perhaps he has gone to the theatre.
I know it is n't proper to go to the theatre on Sunday evening; but
they say charity begins at home, and as Gordon's does n't begin at home,
perhaps it d