"
"For the love of Mike!" said John Gilman. "Am I to be found
fault with for crossing the lawn a minute to see how Linda's wild
garden is coming on? I have dug and helped set enough of those
plants to justify some interest in them as they grow."
"And the garden was your sole subject of conversation?" inquired
Eileen, implied doubt conveyed nicely.
"No, it was not," answered Gilman, all the bulldog in his nature
coming to the surface.
"As I knew perfectly," said Eileen. "I admit that I'm not
feeling myself. Things began going wrong recently, and
everything has gone wrong since. I think it all began with
Marian Thorne's crazy idea of selling her home and going to the
city to try to ape a man."
"Marian never tried to ape a man in her life," said John,
instantly yielding to a sense of justice. "She is as strictly
feminine as any woman I ever knew."
"Do you mean to say that you think studying architecture is a
woman's work?" sneered Eileen.
"Yes, I do," said Gilman emphatically. "Women live in houses.
They're in them nine tenths of the time to a man's one tenth.
Next to rocking a cradle I don't know of any occupation in this
world more distinctly feminine than the planning of comfortable
homes for homekeeping people."
Eileen changed the subject swiftly. "What was Linda saying to
you?" she asked.
"She was showing me a plant, a rare Echeveria of the Cotyledon
family, that she tobogganed down one side of Multiflores Canyon
and delivered safely on the roadway without its losing an
appreciable amount of 'bloom' from its exquisitely painted
leaves.
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