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Updated: July 21, 2025
Thaddler to her young hostess. "A very dangerous experiment! Bringing that young iconoclast into your home!" Mr. Thaddler, stout and sulky, sat as far away as he could and talked to Mrs. Porne. "I'd like to try that same experiment myself," said he to her. "You tried it some time, I understand?" "Indeed we did and would still if we had the chance," she replied.
As it was she rose to her feet, stretching herself to her full height, and walked the length of the great empty room. She even laughed a little. "It's open!" said she, and ordered the car. While waiting for it she chatted with Mrs. Porne awhile over the all-convenient telephone. Diantha sat at her window, watching the big soft, brilliant moon behind the eucalyptus trees.
"Why, there aren't thirty kinds of soup, are there?" she urged. "I never thought there were when we kept servants," said he. "Three was about their limit, and greasy, at that." Mrs. Porne slipped the soup plates back in their place and served the meat. "She does not give a fish course, does she?" Mrs. Ree observed. "Not at the table d'hote price," Mrs. Porne answered.
Porne came home that night he found the wifely smile which is supposed to greet all returning husbands quite genuinely in evidence. "O Edgar!" cried she in a triumphant whisper, "I've got such a nice girl! She's just as neat and quick; you've no idea the work she's done today it looks like another place already. But if things look queer at dinner don't notice it for I've just given her her head.
In her further work of overseeing the construction of that library, she had met Edgar Porne, one of the numerous eager young real estate men of that region, who showed a liberal enthusiasm for the general capacity of women in the professions, and a much warmer feeling for the personal attractions of this one.
She gaily recounted her climax of confusion and weariness, and the sudden appearance of this ministering angel. "She arrived at about quarter of ten. I engaged her inside of five minutes. She was into a gingham gown and at work by ten o'clock!" "What promptness! And I suppose there was plenty to do!" Mrs. Porne laughed unblushingly. "There was enough for ten women it seemed to me!
Finally she may, and frequently does, marry into exalted places. In all this there is not the slightest necessity for any illicit relation." In some respects the position of the ancient Greek hetaira was more analogous to that of the Japanese geisha than to that of the prostitute in the strict sense. For the Greeks, indeed, the hetaira, was not strictly a porne or prostitute at all.
Her husband also bided his time; and when congratulated on his improved appearance and air of contentment, merely vouchsafed that his wife had a new girl who could cook. To himself he boasted that he had a new wife who could love so cheerful and gay grew Mrs. Porne in the changed atmosphere of her home.
Porne found small difficulty in persuading an investor to put up such a house, which visibly could be used as a boarding-house or small hotel, if it failed in its first purpose. It was built of concrete, a plain simple structure, but fine in proportions and pleasantly colored.
Porne, making hay while the sun shone, caught up a little in her sewing and made some conscience-tormenting calls. When Thursday night came around she was simply running over with information to give her husband. "Such a talk as I have had with Miss Bell! She is so queer! But she's nice too, and it's all reasonable enough, what she says.
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