Besides, the frank and direct behavior of Kenby and Mrs.Adding has been very obliterating to my early impressions of love-making." "It certainly hasn't been ideal," said Mrs.March with a sigh.
"Why hasn't it been ideal ?" he asked.

"Kenby is tremendously in love with her; and I believe she's had a fancy for him from the beginning.
If it hadn't been for Rose she would have accepted him at once; and now he's essential to them both in their helplessness.

As for Papa Triscoe and his Europeanized scruples, if they have any reality at all they're the residuum of his personal resentment, and Kenby and Mrs.Adding have nothing to do with their unreality.

His being in love with her is no reason why he shouldn't be helpful to her when she needs him, and every reason why he should.

I call it a poem, such as very few people have the luck to live out together." Mrs.March listened with mounting fervor, and when he stopped, she cried out, "Well, my dear, I do believe you are right! It is ideal, as you say; it's a perfect poem.