ume too much time,' Amy replied,
her explanation just as much of an impromptu as the announcement had
been. 'You see, one must either belong to society or not. Married people
can't accept an occasional invitation from friends and never do their
social duty in return.
We have decided to withdraw altogether--at all events for the present. I
shall see no one except my relatives.'
Edith listened with a face of astonishment.
'You won't even see ME?' she exclaimed.
'Indeed, I have no wish to lose your friendship. Yet I am ashamed to ask
you to come here when I can never return your visits.'
'Oh, please don't put it in that way! But it seems so very strange.'
Edith could not help conjecturing the true significance of this resolve.
But, as is commonly the case with people in easy circumstances, she
found it hard to believe that her friends were so straitened as to
have a difficulty in supporting the ordinary obligations of a civilised
state.
'I know how precious your husband's time is,' she added, as if to remove
the effect of her last remark. 'Surely, there's no harm in my saying--we
know each other well enough--you wouldn't think it necessary to devote
an evening to entertaining us just because you had given us the pleasure
of your company. I put it very stupidly, but I'm sure you understand me,
Amy. Don't refuse just to come to our house now and then.'
'I'm afraid we shall have to be consistent, Edith.'
'But do you think this is a WISE thing to do?'
'Wise?'
'You know what you once told me, about how necessary it was for a
novelist to study all sorts of people. How can Mr Reardon do this if he
shuts himself up in the house? I should have thought he would find it
necessary to make new acquaintances.'
'As I said,' returned Amy, 'it won't be always like this. For the
present, Edwin has quite enough "material."'
She spoke distantly; it irritated her to have to invent excuses for the
sacrifice she had just imposed on herself. Edith sipped the tea which
had been offered her, and for a minute kept silence.
'When will Mr Reardon's next book be published?' she asked at length.
'I'm sure I don't know. Not before the spring.'
'I shall look so anxiously for it. Whenever I meet new people I always
turn the conversation to novels, just for the sake of asking them if
they know your husband's books.'
She laughed merrily.
'Which is seldom the case, I should think,' said Amy, with a smile of
indifferenc
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