And yet she had never really got it. She remained half
invisible to him--some one to be remembered with a start, after an
interval of oblivion, and treated considerately--even affectionately,
for that matter--as Rose's sister!
They had been seeing each other with reasonable frequency all winter.
The Aldriches had Portia and her mother in to a family dinner pretty
often, and always came out to Edgewater for a one-o'clock dinner with
the Stantons on Sunday. The habit was for Rose to come out early in the
car and take them to church, while Rodney walked out later, and turned
up in time for dinner.
Mrs. Stanton had taken a great liking to Rodney. His manner toward her
had just the blend of deference and breezy unconventionality that
pleased her. So, while Portia would worry through the dinner, for fear
it wouldn't be cooked well enough, or served well enough, not to present
a sorry contrast to the meals her guests were accustomed to, her mother
would sit beaming upon the pair with a contentment as unalloyed as if
Rose were the acknowledged new leader of the great Cause and her husband
her adoring convert, as they had been in her old day-dream.
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