York isn’t New Orleans or Atlanta—the man who may come may have sense enough to see what’s back of your—well, your so-called misfortune. Men are simple creatures after all though we women make of them in our own minds an insoluble riddle.”
Wise in the ways of the world, tolerant and understanding of human foibles and weaknesses, Mrs. Rogers smiled reminiscently.
“I’ve seen lots of things in my time, Mimi, and I’ve learned a lot of things, too. There are some people whose notion of getting along in the world is to butt their brains out against the walls that come up in front of them. Others go to the other extreme and dodge every obstacle, taking the easiest way out. Maybe they’re both right—but I doubt it. The best way is to hold on to your ideals, yield only when you have to, but keep that thing we call our soul intact, no matter what we go up against.”
She toyed with the handle of her coffee-cup ruminatively.
“Take men, for example. Mr. Rogers and I had our times of disagreement, every married couple does. Much as I loved him, there were times when he irritated me so I could almost cheerfully have choked him. But I learned soon how to handle him—and when all’s said and done, all men are alike—they differ in little ways but, by and large, they’re the same. One of the things I learned was this—never, never argue with a man. On the other hand, don’t fall into agreement too easily with his opinions. If you always insist you’re right—even if you are and you know it—he’ll think you stubborn and mulish and you stir up all sorts of stubbornness in him. And if you always agree with him he’ll think you’re soft and weak and silly. But if you express an opinion different from what you’re sure is right and then—not too easily let him convince you of the error of your reasoning—then, my dear, he’ll be putty in your hands!”
“But suppose he should have the same opinion as your wrong one—what then?” Mimi inquired, interested in spite of herself in the