Well, she had met a lot of nice people, but the only fruitful yield socially had been Mrs. Hilmer.  And somehow it never occurred to Helen to apply such a discriminating term as nice to her latest acquisition.  Mrs. Hilmer was wholesome and good hearted and a dear, and no doubt she was nice in a negative way, but one never thought about saying so.  And Hilmer...?  No, he was not what one would call a nice man, but he was tremendously interesting and in the hands of the right woman...  You see, Mrs. Hilmer was a good soul, but, of course, she didn’t quite ... that is, she was a bit old fashioned and ... well, she didn’t know how, poor dear!

Thus it was that over her household tasks on this particular February morning Helen Starratt dawdled as her mind played with the fiction of what Hilmer might become under the proper influence.  Now, if she had married him!...

It was all very well for Mrs. Hilmer to see that her lord and master was fed properly, but why did she waste hours over a custard when she had money enough to hire it done?  That course didn’t get either of them anywhere—­Hilmer remained at a level of torpid content, and naturally he looked down on his wife as a sort of sublimated servant girl who wasn’t always preparing to leave and demanding higher wages...  No, most men fell too easily in the trap of their personal comforts.  Even Fred had become self-satisfied.  Beyond his dinner and paper and an occasional sober flight at the movies or bridge with old friends he didn’t seem to have any stirring ambitions.  That was where a wife came in.  Hadn’t she been casting around for bait that would make Fred rise to something new?  Hadn’t she invited the Hilmers to dinner in the hope that the two men would hit it off?  The very first time she had met Hilmer she had thought, “There’s a man that Fred ought to know.”

She was perfectly willing to concede certain virtues to her husband, and she flattered herself that with the materials at her command she had managed to keep Fred pretty well up to the scratch.  The only thing that had been lacking was plenty of money.  If she had had one quarter of Hilmer’s income she would have evolved a husband that any woman could have been proud of, instead of one that most women would have found merely satisfactory...  This was the way she had argued before her absurd dinner party.  She had to admit, after it was all over, that her husband had managed to make her thoroughly ashamed of him.  It was better to have an outrageous husband than a ridiculous one.  And she fancied that Hilmer could be outrageous if he chose...  But she was sure of one thing ... if Hilmer came home and announced that he had given up his position and had decided to plunge in boldly for himself, his wife would scarcely give the matter a second thought.  Hilmer would carry the thing through ... some way.  A man who could brain an assailant and fight for a mouthful of bread would put things over by hook or crook.  There wasn’t much chance for failure there.  But Fred Starratt ... well, he was apt to have some ridiculous scruple or too keen a sense of business courtesy or a sensitiveness to rebuffs.  Take his passage at arms with the drunken maid ... if he had thrown her out promptly, or come in and frankly borrowed the money from Hilmer, it would have at least shown decision.