She's such a darling! Don't be too much annoyed if I put my oar in once
in a while, just to see that you're treating her properly."

She walked into his office one morning a few days later, dismissed his
stenographer with a nod, and sat down in the just vacated chair. She was
sorry, she said, but it was the only way she had left, nowadays, of
getting hold of him. Then she introduced a trivial, transparent little
errand for an excuse, and, having got it out of the way, inquired after
Rose. What had the two of them been doing lately?

"Getting acquainted," he said. "It's going to be an endless process,
apparently. Heavens, what a lot there is to talk about!"

"Yes," Frederica persisted, "but what do you do by way of being--nice to
her?" And as he only looked puzzled and rather unhappy, she elucidated
further. "What's your concession, dear old stupid, to the fact that
you're her lover--in the way of presents and flowers and theaters and
things?"

"But Rose isn't like the rest of them," he objected. "She doesn't care
anything about that sort of thing."

Whereat Frederica laughed. "Try it," she said, "just for an experiment,
Roddy. Don't ask her if she wants to go, ask her to go. Get tickets for
one of the musical things, engage a table for dinner and for supper, at
two of the restaurants, and send her flowers. Do it handsomely, you
know, as if ordinary things weren't good enough for her. Oh, and take
our big car. Taxis wouldn't quite be in the picture. Try it, Roddy, just
to see what happens."