“So I came to ask what you think about it.”

“You came to ask me?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Rose stared at her. Then she nodded thoughtfully. “Well, dear, that’s very nice of you.” She paused. “You’re very clever.” She was sitting in an upright chair; Sarah was on the sofa. She glanced toward the window where the early-evening light from Park Avenue was casting a gentle glow.

“I’m sure you want me to be truthful.”

“Please.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea, though I can quite understand his being in love with you.”

“A Jewish girl with glasses?”

“Oh yes. You’re intelligent and attractive—I dare say he should have married someone like you in the first place. Of course, I’d have been horrified.” She shrugged. “Well, you said you wanted me to be truthful.”

“I do.”

“I just think it’s too late now. Do you like him?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking really hard. I love him.”

“Lucky Charlie. What do you like about him?”

“A lot of things. I think he’s the most interesting man I’ve ever met.”

“That’s only because he’s older, dear. Older men seem interesting, because they know things. But they may not be so interesting really.”

“Don’t you think he’s interesting? You’re his mother.”

Rose sighed. “I love my son, my dear, and I want the best for him. But I’m too old to hide from reality. Do you know the trouble with Charlie? He’s intelligent, he may even have talent, but he’s old money. Not that he has any, you understand. But he belongs to it. That’s my fault, I’m afraid.” She sighed again. “I mean, it always seemed so important.”

“It isn’t important now?”

“I’m getting old. It’s strange how your view of life changes when you get older. Things …” she made a gesture with her hands, “fall away.”

“I never met old money before Charlie, Mrs. Master. I love Charlie’s manners, and he’s so charming.”

“He is charming. He always was. But let me tell you the trouble with people like us, my dear. We have no ambition.” She paused. “Well, sometimes people of our class have ambition. Look at the two Roosevelts. Two presidents from one family—very different branches of the family, of course, but still …” She stared out of the window again. “Charlie’s not like that. He knows all kinds of things, he’s interesting to talk to, he’s thoughtful, he’s very kind to me—but he’s never done anything. And even with you beside him, dear, I’m afraid he never will. It isn’t in his nature.”

“You think it takes pushy Jewish people to get things done?”

“I don’t know about Jewish. But pushy? Definitely.” She looked at Sarah seriously. “If my son marries you, dear, I don’t know how he’ll be able to afford another family. But even if he finds the money, he will still be old a long time before you are. And as time passes, I’m afraid you will become impatient with him. You deserve something better. That’s all I can tell you.”