discussion with her sister Lily in the rose garden. Rutgers Van Rensselaer always lived on his boat during his annual visit to Newport, but his wife preferred the comfort of Oaklawn.
"All of you think I ought to marry Dexter," Rosalie began sullenly.
"Ought? Don't be silly, Rosey."
"Well, of course you don't
say
it to me. You don't have to. I suppose I'm always saying it to myself."
"But you like him?"
"Oh, yes."
"Perhaps you love him and don't know it."
"I don't know." She faced Lily almost with defiance. "I like it when he kisses me."
"Well, there you are!"
"But, Lily, I don't know if I respect him!"
"Respect him? Why, he's the most respectable man in the world!"
"Maybe that's just it. I guess what I really mean is, do I revere him?"
"What an odd term. Do I revere Rutgers? I hope not!"
"You're so practical, Lily. I wish I were as practical as you."
"No, you don't! You're
proud
of being romantic. Just don't let it lead you to Joanna's condition!"
But Rosalie was determined not to submit to a lecture on old maids. "Tell me, Lily. Frankly. Do you think Mother felt that way about Father?"
"What way?"
"Well ... that he was physically..."
"Attractive? Of course."
"Yes, but more than that. Overwhelming!"
Lily looked startled. "Overwhelming what?"
"Let's say, her better judgment."
"You mean, so that she ... she..." Lily gaped.
"Married him."
Lily's relief was lost in perplexity. "I don't follow you."
"I mean married him without really respecting him."
"Certainly not! I think we've said enough on this subject. You're working yourself into a state of nervous prostration. I suggest you go in now and rest until our guests come."
Rosalie, in her room, was alone as never before. Now that she had permitted herself to question the integrity of her mother and the ultimate nobility of her father, she had no allies. None of her sisters was going to follow her into
those
uncharted waters; she could drift as she chose out to open sea.
Later that day, when she had fled the house and the archery contest, sitting on a rock and looking out to the actual ocean, she made her decision at last to make an anchor out of the very cause of her aimlessness. She would accept this man whom she certainly did not revere and perhaps did not even quite loveâat least as her mother had used that term. Yet she clung to her new suspicion that she was probably only doing as her mother had done, as her sister Lily had done, as any woman would do who did not insist on becoming a Joanna. There had to be a price for everything.
9
R OSALIE had made it her rule, in sixteen years of marriage, to avoid, wherever possible, direct confrontations with her husband. Silence settled a hundred differences of opinion in minor matters. But now she decided that her silence in the case of Jules Bleeker was showing signs of malignancy. It was only fair to Dexter himself to give voice to her opinion, and she waited one morning at the breakfast table until the boys had departed for school.
"Are you sure, Dexter, that you're justified in what you're doing to Jules Bleeker? It strikes me as a kind of persecution."
"Persecution! You know what he's done!"
"Yes, but didn't Annie lead him on?"
"You've never been fair to Annie!"
"Someone in the family has to balance your extravagant admiration. Tell me this, then. Do the men you're talking to go along with you of their own accord? Or do you have to bludgeon them into it?"
"I wouldn't call it bludgeoning. I
have
run into some resistance, I admit. It rather surprised me, actually, considering how clear-cut the moral issues are."
"And that doesn't give you pause? It doesn't make you reflect that you just
might
be wrong?"
Dexter stared at her with something like bewilderment in his clear gaze. "How can I be wrong, darling? This man has been urging your sister to commit adultery. Can he be fit for our society?"
"But does that mean you have to ruin him?"
"I gave him his chance. He refused to give her up.
"All of you think I ought to marry Dexter," Rosalie began sullenly.
"Ought? Don't be silly, Rosey."
"Well, of course you don't
say
it to me. You don't have to. I suppose I'm always saying it to myself."
"But you like him?"
"Oh, yes."
"Perhaps you love him and don't know it."
"I don't know." She faced Lily almost with defiance. "I like it when he kisses me."
"Well, there you are!"
"But, Lily, I don't know if I respect him!"
"Respect him? Why, he's the most respectable man in the world!"
"Maybe that's just it. I guess what I really mean is, do I revere him?"
"What an odd term. Do I revere Rutgers? I hope not!"
"You're so practical, Lily. I wish I were as practical as you."
"No, you don't! You're
proud
of being romantic. Just don't let it lead you to Joanna's condition!"
But Rosalie was determined not to submit to a lecture on old maids. "Tell me, Lily. Frankly. Do you think Mother felt that way about Father?"
"What way?"
"Well ... that he was physically..."
"Attractive? Of course."
"Yes, but more than that. Overwhelming!"
Lily looked startled. "Overwhelming what?"
"Let's say, her better judgment."
"You mean, so that she ... she..." Lily gaped.
"Married him."
Lily's relief was lost in perplexity. "I don't follow you."
"I mean married him without really respecting him."
"Certainly not! I think we've said enough on this subject. You're working yourself into a state of nervous prostration. I suggest you go in now and rest until our guests come."
Rosalie, in her room, was alone as never before. Now that she had permitted herself to question the integrity of her mother and the ultimate nobility of her father, she had no allies. None of her sisters was going to follow her into
those
uncharted waters; she could drift as she chose out to open sea.
Later that day, when she had fled the house and the archery contest, sitting on a rock and looking out to the actual ocean, she made her decision at last to make an anchor out of the very cause of her aimlessness. She would accept this man whom she certainly did not revere and perhaps did not even quite loveâat least as her mother had used that term. Yet she clung to her new suspicion that she was probably only doing as her mother had done, as her sister Lily had done, as any woman would do who did not insist on becoming a Joanna. There had to be a price for everything.
9
R OSALIE had made it her rule, in sixteen years of marriage, to avoid, wherever possible, direct confrontations with her husband. Silence settled a hundred differences of opinion in minor matters. But now she decided that her silence in the case of Jules Bleeker was showing signs of malignancy. It was only fair to Dexter himself to give voice to her opinion, and she waited one morning at the breakfast table until the boys had departed for school.
"Are you sure, Dexter, that you're justified in what you're doing to Jules Bleeker? It strikes me as a kind of persecution."
"Persecution! You know what he's done!"
"Yes, but didn't Annie lead him on?"
"You've never been fair to Annie!"
"Someone in the family has to balance your extravagant admiration. Tell me this, then. Do the men you're talking to go along with you of their own accord? Or do you have to bludgeon them into it?"
"I wouldn't call it bludgeoning. I
have
run into some resistance, I admit. It rather surprised me, actually, considering how clear-cut the moral issues are."
"And that doesn't give you pause? It doesn't make you reflect that you just
might
be wrong?"
Dexter stared at her with something like bewilderment in his clear gaze. "How can I be wrong, darling? This man has been urging your sister to commit adultery. Can he be fit for our society?"
"But does that mean you have to ruin him?"
"I gave him his chance. He refused to give her up.
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