Main  Contacts  
Table of contents
AMORY, SON OF BEATRICE
SPIRES AND GARGOYLES
THE EGOTIST CONSIDERS
NARCISSUS OFF DUTY
THE DEBUTANTE
EXPERIMENTS IN CONVALESCENCE
YOUNG IRONY
THE SUPERCILIOUS SACRIFICE
THE EGOTIST BECOMES A PERSONAGE

 

MRS. CONNAGE: Rosalind, you've been a very expensive proposition. 

 

ROSALIND: (Resignedly) Yes. 

 

MRS. CONNAGE: And you know your father hasn't what he once had. 

 

ROSALIND: (Making a wry face) Oh, please don't talk about money. 

 

MRS. CONNAGE: You can't do anything without it. This is our last year in 

this house--and unless things change Cecelia won't have the advantages 

you've had. 

 

ROSALIND: (Impatiently) Well--what is it? 

 

MRS. CONNAGE: So I ask you to please mind me in several things I've put 

down in my note-book. The first one is: don't disappear with young men. 

There may be a time when it's valuable, but at present I want you on the 

dance-floor where I can find you. There are certain men I want to have 

you meet and I don't like finding you in some corner of the conservatory 

exchanging silliness with any one--or listening to it. 

 

ROSALIND: (Sarcastically) Yes, listening to it _is_ better. 

 

MRS. CONNAGE: And don't waste a lot of time with the college set--little 

boys nineteen and twenty years old. I don't mind a prom or a football 

game, but staying away from advantageous parties to eat in little cafes 

down-town with Tom, Dick, and Harry-- 

 

ROSALIND: (Offering her code, which is, in its way, quite as high as her 

mother's) Mother, it's done--you can't run everything now the way you 

did in the early nineties. 

 

MRS. CONNAGE: (Paying no attention) There are several bachelor friends 

of your father's that I want you to meet to-night--youngish men. 

 

ROSALIND: (Nodding wisely) About forty-five? 

 

MRS. CONNAGE: (Sharply) Why not? 

 

ROSALIND: Oh, _quite_ all right--they know life and are so adorably 

tired looking (shakes her head)--but they _will_ dance. 

 

MRS. CONNAGE: I haven't met Mr. Blaine--but I don't think you'll care 

for him. He doesn't sound like a money-maker. 

 

ROSALIND: Mother, I never _think_ about money. 

 

MRS. CONNAGE: You never keep it long enough to think about it. 

 

ROSALIND: (Sighs) Yes, I suppose some day I'll marry a ton of it--out of 

sheer boredom. 

 

MRS. CONNAGE: (Referring to note-book) I had a wire from Hartford. 


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