ar to redeem the drama that
it should be related to the Hilarys by marriage, and if she had put her
feeling into words, which always oversay the feelings, they would have
been to the effect that the drama had behaved very well indeed, and
deserved praise. This is what Mrs. Hilary's instinct would have said,
but, of course, her reason would have said something quite different,
and it was her reason that spoke to Maxwell, and expressed a pleasure in
his success that was very gratifying to him. He got on with her better
than with Hilary, partly because she was a woman and he was a man, and
partly because, though she had opposed his marriage with Louise more
steadily than her husband, there had been no open offence between them.
He did not easily forgive a hurt to his pride, and Hilary, with all his
good will since, and his quick repentance at the time, had never made it
quite right with Maxwell for treating him rudely once, when he came to
him so helplessly in the line of his newspaper work. They were always
civil to each other, and they would always be what is called good
friends; they had even an air of mutual understanding, as regarded
Louise and her exuberances. Still, she was so like her father in these,
and so unlike her mother, that it is probable the understanding between
Hilary and Maxwell concerning her was only the understanding of men, and
that Maxwell was really more in sympathy with Mrs. Hilary, even about
Louise, even about the world. He might have liked it as much as she, if
he had been as much of it, and he thought so well of it as a world that
he meant to conquer one of the chief places in it. In the meantime he
would have been very willing to revenge himself upon it, to satirize it,
to hurt it, to humble it--but for his own pleasure, not the world's
good.

Hilary wanted the young people to stay the afternoon, and have dinner,
but his wife perceived that they wished to be left alone in their
exultation, and she would not let him keep them beyond a decent moment,
or share too much in their joy. With only that telegram from Godolphin
they could not be definite about anything but their future, which
Louise, at least, beheld all rose color. Just what size or shape their
good fortune had already taken they did not know, and could not, till
they got the letter Godolphin had promised, and she was in haste to go
back to Magnolia for that, though it could not arrive before the next
morning at the earliest. She urg