第102章 XXI(5)

"Oh, I shan't interfere," said she in a tone that made it a binding promise. "But you can't expect me to sympathize with your plans for an old-fashioned domestic life."

"Certainly not," said Norman. "You don't understand. Women of your sort never do. That's why you're not fit to be the wives of men worth while. A serious man and a society woman can't possibly hit it off together. For a serious man the outside world is a place to work, and home is a place to rest. For a society woman, the world is a place to idle and home is a work shop, an entertainment factory. It's impossible to reconcile those two opposite ideas."

She saw his point at once, and it appealed to her intelligence. And she had his own faculty for never permitting prejudice to influence judgment. She said in a dubious tone, "Do you think Dorothy will sympathize with your scheme?"

"I'm sure I don't know," replied he.

"If she doesn't--" Ursula halted there.

Her brother shrugged his shoulders. "If she proves to be the wrong sort of woman for me, she'll go her way and I mine."

"Why, I thought you loved her!"

"What have I said that leads you to change your mind?" said he.

"A man does not take the high hand with the woman he adores."

"So?" said Norman tranquilly.

"Well," said his puzzled sister by way of conclusion, "if you persist in being the autocrat----"

"Autocrat?--I?" laughed he. "Am I trying to compel her to do anything she doesn't wish to do?

Didn't I say she would be free to go if she were dissatis-fied with me and my plan--if she didn't adopt it gladly as her own plan, also?"

"But you know very well she's dependent upon you, Fred."

"Is that my fault? Does a man force a woman to become dependent? And just because she is dependent, should he therefore yield to her and let her make of his life a waste and a folly?"

"You're far too clever for me to argue with.

Anyhow, as I was saying, if you persist in what I call tyranny----"

"When a woman cries tyranny, it means she's furious because she is not getting HER autocratic way."

"Maybe so," admitted Ursula cheerfully. "At any rate, if you persist--unless she loves you utterly, your life will be miserable."

"She may make her own life miserable, but not mine," replied he. "If I were the ordinary man--counting himself lucky to have induced any woman to marry him--afraid if he lost his woman he'd not be able to get another--able to give his woman only an indifferent poor support, and so on--if I were one of those men, what you say might be true. But what deep and permanent mischief can a frail woman do a strong man?"

"There's instance after instance in history"

"Of strong men wrecking THEMSELVES through various kinds of madness, including sex madness. But, my dear Ursula, not an instance--not one--where the woman was responsible. If history were truth, instead of lies--you women might have less conceit."

"You--talking this way!" mocked Ursula.

"Meaning, I suppose, my late infatuation?" inquired he, unruffled.

"I never saw or read of a worse case."

"Am I ruined?"

"No. But why not? Because you got her. If you hadn't--" Ursula blew out a large cloud of cigarette smoke with a "Pouf!"

"If I hadn't got her," said Norman, "I'd have got well, just the same, in due time. A sick WEAK man goes down; a sick STRONG man gets well. When a man who's reputed to be strong doesn't get well, it's because he merely seemed strong but wasn't. The poets and novelists and the historians and the rest of the nature fakers fail to tell ALL the facts, dear sister. All the facts would spoil a pretty story."

Ursula thought a few minutes, suddenly burst out with, "Do you think Dorothy loves you now?"

Norman rose to go out doors. "I don't think about such unprofitable things," said he. "As long as we suit each other and get along pleasantly--why bother about a name for it?"

In the French window he paused, stood looking out with an expression so peculiar that Ursula, curious, came to see the cause. A few yards away, under a big symmetrical maple in full leaf sat Dorothy with the baby on her lap. She was dressed very simply in white.

There was a little sunlight upon her hair, a sheen of gold over her skin. She was looking down at the baby. Her expression--Said Ursula: "Several of the great painters have tried to catch that expression. But they've failed."

Norman made no reply. He had not heard. All in an instant there had been revealed to him a whole new world--a view of man and woman--of woman--of sex--its meaning so different from what he had believed and lived.

"What're you thinking about, Fred?" inquired his sister.

He shook his head, with a mysterious smile, and strolled away.