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Updated: August 14, 2024
Vostrand, but he did not feel strong in her defence; he was not sure that Durgin was quite wrong, absurd as he had been. He sat down and looked up at his visitor under his brows. "What are you here for, Jeff? Not to complain of Mrs. Vostrand?" Jeff gave a short, shamefaced laugh. "No, it's this you're such an old friend of Mrs.
"I don't suppose the Italians expect their wives to black their boots, but I've heard that they beat them, sometimes." "In exaggerated cases, perhaps they do," Mrs. Vostrand admitted. "And, of course," she added, thoughtfully, "there is nothing like a purely American marriage for happiness."
"I don't suppose the Italians expect their wives to black their boots, but I've heard that they beat them, sometimes." "In exaggerated cases, perhaps they do," Mrs. Vostrand admitted. "And, of course," she added, thoughtfully, "there is nothing like a purely American marriage for happiness."
Vostrand's educational sojourn in Europe; she laughed and said she knew the type, and the situation was one of the most obvious phases of the American marriage. He protested in vain that Mrs. Vostrand was not the type; she laughed again, and said, Oh, types were never typical.
Vostrand promised. "And may we come to your studio to implore your protection?" "The sooner the better."
You don't know where Mrs. Vostrand is going to be this winter, I suppose?" "No, I don't," said Westover. He could not help a sort of blind resentment in the situation. If he could not feel that Jeff was the best that could be for Cynthia, he had certainly no reason to regret that his thoughts could be so lightly turned from her.
Vostrand had the same habit of sulking and kicking at people's shins, Westover could partly understand why Mrs. Vostrand had come to Europe for the education of her children. It all came vividly back to him, while he went about looking for Mrs. Vostrand and her daughter on the verandas and in the parlors.
Vostrand was taking him on the right ground, as a Harvard student, and nobody need take him on any other. Possibly people would ask him to teas at their own houses, from Westover's studio, but he could not feel that he was concerned in that. Society is interested in a man's future, not his past, as it is interested in a woman's past, not her future.
"No, no, I haven't yet," said Mrs. Vostrand. "And if I advised not, you wouldn't?" "Ah, that's another thing!" "When are you going to take possession, Mrs. Vostrand?" "Oh, at once, I suppose if we do!" "And may I come in when I'm hungry, just as I used to do in Florence, and will you stay me with flagons in the old way?" "There never was anything but tea, you know well enough."
"Oh, we should only be too happy," said the mother, and her daughter, from her inflection, knew that she would be willing to defer her happiness. But Jeff did not. "Mr. Whitwell !" he called out, and Whitwell came across the grass to the edge of the veranda. "I want to introduce you to Mrs. Vostrand and Miss Vostrand."
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