o was cross-eyed?"
"Well, yes, I think his eyes weren't quite straight. But that may have
been one reason why he was so gentle and deferential. I have often
noticed that persons who are afflicted in some painful way are often
the very kindest and best, as if the spiritual had developed at the
expense of the physical."
"Well, Faith, if your heart is set on that one we must have it."
"I know the rent is exorbitant, but I intend to get all of my amusement
and recreation out of my home, so count balls and receptions and
functions out--or rather count them in the rent," I said, "for instead
of going to the theatre as we have been doing, I want to give little
dinners--real dinners to people we love, and give them with a view to
the enjoyment of our guests rather than that of ourselves. I want to
make a fine art of the selection of guests in their relation to each
other."
"I'd like nothing better," declared Aubrey, "but don't you know that
you won't be called upon to do much of that sort of thing the first
winter, for everybody we know will be entertaining us."
"There's one other point I'd like to explain," I said. "And that is
that I shall never entertain anybody whom I simply 'feel called upon'
to entertain, nor, if I like people, shall I count favours with them.
I shall conform to conventionality simply as a matter of dignity. It
is the privilege of your friends to make the first advances to me
because I am a stranger to most of them. But I want to make a practice
of hospitality for my own sake. I want to see if the open house we
kept in the South cannot be accomplished in New York. I never, for the
good of my own soul, want to grow as cold and calculating as some
so-called hospitable women whom I have met in the North."
Aubrey looked at me comprehendingly.
"I know," I said, smiling, "that it sounds to a hardened New Yorker
like yourself about like the interview of a young actress who declares
that she intends to elevate the stage. But in my case, I am in the
position of one who doesn't want the stage to lower her. I don't want
to grow cold, Aubrey, and I hope never to allow a friend to leave my
house at meal-time without at least an invitation to remain and make,
if necessary, a convenience of us. What are friends for, I should like
to know?"
"From the position you have just stated I should think your definition
of a friend would be 'a man or woman who can be imposed upon with
impunity.'"
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