A Reconstructed Marriage

Chapter 4

She was ill for some hours, and all day much troubled at the circumstance. In her proposed fight against the hatred of her husband's family she had lost the first move, for she could well imagine the triumphant mockery of her mother-in-law over her weakness and squeamishness. In the afternoon she asked for the carriage, as she wished to do some shopping, and was told Mrs. Campbell was intending to use it. Then she sent for a cab and while she was dressing, Christina came into her room wearing her street costume.

"Isabel is going out with mother," she said. "Can I go with you, Theodora?"

The proposal was not welcome, but without hesitation Theodora answered: "I shall be obliged if you will. I have some shopping to do, and you can tell me the best places to go to."

"I certainly can; I know all the best shops. I always do the shopping. I like to shop; Isabel hates it. She says the shopmen are not civil to her. Isabel is so particular about her dignity."

"That is rather a good quality, is it not?"

"I don't know-with that kind of people-shopmen and the like-it is rather a daft thing to do."

"Daft?"

"Silly, I mean. They have to wait on you, why should you care how they do it? I don't."

"I am ready. Shall we go now?"

"I am ready. What will you buy first?"

"Linen-sheets, pillow-cases, table-cloths, napkins, etc. We shall want a linen draper."

"Then tell cabby to drive us to Smith and McDonald's. It is perfectly lovely to be with you, and without mother and Isabel to snub me. I feel as if I were having a holiday."

"Perhaps I might snub you."

"I am sure you will not. I believe I am going to have a happy afternoon."

And she really had a few hours that perfectly delighted her. Theodora asked her advice, and frequently took it. Theodora bought her gloves and lace, and after the shopping was finished, they went into McLeod's confectionery and had ices and cakes, lemonade and caramels. For once in her life, Christina had felt herself to be well-informed and important. She had told several funny stories also, and Theodora had laughed and enjoyed them; indeed, she felt as if Theodora considered her quite clever.

"I have had such a jolly afternoon," she said as they parted. "Thank you for taking me with you! I cannot tell you how happy I have been."

But to Isabel's queries, she answered with an air of ennui: "You know well, Isabel, what shopping means. We went here and there, and bought linen of all kinds, and wine and cakes, and then we went to the large furniture store, and selected a bookcase; for it seems that Robert, with all his carefulness, forgot one."

"Did you like her?"

"She is good-natured enough. Everywhere we went the shopmen fell over each other to wait on her. My! but it is a grand thing to be beautiful."

"Do you really think her beautiful?"

"Every one else does. It matters little what the Traquair Campbells think. She is rather saucy, but she is so pleasant about it you can't take offence."

"Was she saucy to you?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"She said she would be much obliged if I would tap at the door before entering her room."

"The idea!"

"Oh, she is nice enough! I wish mother was not so set against her. I know she plays and sings, and I adore good music."

"You will be adoring her next."

"No, I will not, but I intend to use her when I can."

"What for?"

"To give me a little pleasure-to show me how to dress-to lend me books and music, and take me with her when she goes calling and shopping."

"I would not receive such favors from a person mother disliked so much."

"Mother never finds any one she likes, except the Campbelton people-frowsy, vulgar things, all of them; and I do think it was a shame to use Dora's dresses and furs and jewelry the way they did."

"Mother said it was right, and Robert seemed to think so also-that is, after mother had explained the subject to him."

"Whatever mother thinks, Robert finally thinks the same. He is more afraid of mother than we are. I despise a man who can't stick to his own opinion."

"But if his opinion is wrong?"

"All the same, he ought to stick to it; I should. I think Dora is a lovely woman, and good, and clever. Mother ought to be proud of her new daughter."

"Mother had a high ideal for Robert's wife."

"One that nobody but a Traquair Campbell-or a Jane Dalkeith could fill."

"Jane might have pleased her."

"No one pleases mother! If you gave her the whites of your eyes, she would not be pleased."

"You must not forget, Christina, that she is our mother, and that the Scriptures command us to honor her."

"Sometimes, and in some cases, Isabel, that command is a gey hard one-I might say an impossible one."

"Perhaps, but the Holy Word makes no exceptions-good or bad, wise or foolish, they are to be honored. Dr. Robertson said so, in his last sermon to the Sunday School."

"Dr. Robertson isna infallible, and 'wi' his ten romping, rampaging sons and daughters, he be to lay down a strict law.' That was Jenny McDonald's commentary on his sermon. I heard her say so, and I thought to myself 'Jenny McDonald, you are a vera discerning woman.' I have respected her ever since, and I shall see she gets a pair of blankets at the Christmas fair."

"Well, Christina, I shall not quarrel with you about Dora. I can live without Dora, but you are essential."

The evening proved to be as pleasant, as the morning had been disagreeable. Robert had doubtless suffered some qualms of conscience regarding his wife's treatment, and resolved to make it up to her by his own attention. For he believed so firmly in himself, and in Theodora's love for him, that he really thought a few kind words would atone for every wrong and unkindness she had suffered.

He found Theodora in the mood he expected. She was beautifully gowned, and radiant with welcoming smiles. He forgot to name her morning indisposition, but asked what she had been doing all day, and was much pleased when she answered:

"Christina and I have been shopping this afternoon. She was of great assistance to me, and we had a delightful time." Then she told him what she had bought, and made some very merry comments on the strange shops and polite shopmen.

Two things in her recital were particularly satisfactory-one of his own family had shared her pleasure, and he had not been asked for money to contribute to it. For his wedding expenses had begun to give him a sense of poverty, and his naturally economical nature was shocked at their total. But if Theodora liked to buy more linen and furniture, and treat his sister and herself he had no objections. He supposed she had plenty of money, he thought of what Mr. Newton called her "royalties," and felt he might-at least for a few weeks-throw his responsibilities upon them.

On the whole, sitting by Theodora's side and listening to her pleasant conversation, he felt life to be decidedly worth living. Her moderated dress was also in consonance with his desires. For she had felt her costume on the previous night to be out of tone with her surroundings, and had therefore made a much simpler toilet. She had even wondered if the rich silk and lace, and pearls, were to blame for the unkindness of her reception; if so, she resolved not to err in that respect again. So she wore a light gray liberty silk gown of walking length, with a pretty white muslin waist, and an Eton jacket. A short sash of the same silk tied at the left side was the only trimming, and her wedding ring with its diamond guard her only jewelry. Its simplicity elicited her husband's ardent admiration, and she hoped it would be satisfactory to all. But who can please jealousy, envy, and hatred? An angel from heaven would fail, then how should a mortal woman succeed?

"Last night," said her mother-in-law scornfully, "my lady came sweeping into the room like a very butterfly of a woman. She thought she would astonish us. Did she imagine the Traquair Campbells could be snubbed by a silk dress and a string of pearls? And to-night she comes smiling in as modest as a Quakeress. I am led to believe, Robert has been giving her a few words. I know right well she deserved them."

"Mother," said Isabel, "I dare say she wanted us to believe that she had been used to full dress dinners."

"A likely thing in a Methodist preacher's house, or a girl's school either."

"College, you mean, mother," corrected Christina. "Or perhaps she thought if she was dressed very fine, we would like her better. Dress does make a deal of difference. None of us like our cousins Kerr, because they dress so shabby."

"Speak for your own feelings, Christina. Your sister Isabel and I always treat the Kerr girls with respect."

"Respect is a gey cold welcome. I would not take it twice."

"I think you are forgetting yourself, Christina," said Isabel.

"She has been in bad company all afternoon, Isabel. What can you expect? I heard her tee-heeing and laughing with Dora, almost until dinner time."

And even as the old woman spoke, Robert entered and asked his sisters to come and spend the evening with Dora and himself. "Dora is going to sing," he said, "and it will be a great treat for you to hear her."

"Thank you, brother," said Isabel. "I prefer to stay with mother."

"Perhaps mother will also come."

"No, Robert, I do not care for worldly music, and if I did, Christina sings and plays very well."

"Robert, I shall be delighted to come," said Christina. "You know I love music."

"You will remain with your sister and myself, Christina."

"Please, mother, let me go! Robert, please!" and she looked so entreatingly at her brother, that he sat down by his mother, and taking her hand said: "You must humor me in this matter, dear mother. I want some of you with me, and I am sure Christina can learn a great deal from Dora. It will cost her nothing, and she ought to take advantage of Dora's skill."

The last argument prevailed. If Christina could get any advantage for nothing, and especially from Theodora, Mrs. Campbell approved the project.

"You may go with your brother, Christina, for an hour, and make the most of your opportunities. One thing is sure, the woman ought to do something for the family, for goodness knows, we have been put to extraordinary expense and trouble for her pleasure."

A few minutes after the departure of Robert and his sister, Mrs. Campbell said: "Open the parlor door, Isabel, and let us hear the 'treat' if we can."

But the songs Theodora sang were quite unknown to the two listeners and Mrs. Campbell indulged herself in much scornful criticism. "Who ever heard the like? Do you call that music? It is just skirling. I would rather hear Christina sing 'The Bush Aboon Traquair,' or 'The Lass o' Patie's Mill,' or a good rattling Jacobite song like 'Highland Laddie,' or 'Over the Water to Charlie.' There is music in the like o' them, but there isn't a note o' it in Dora's caterwauling."

"Listen, mother! She is singing merrily enough now. I wonder what it is? Robert and Christina are both laughing."

"Something wicked and theatrical, no doubt. Shut the door, Isabel, and give me my Practice of Piety. Then you may leave me, and go to your room, unless you wish to join your sister."

"Mother, do not be unjust."

"In an hour remind Christina. You are a good daughter, Isabel. You are my greatest comfort."

"Good-night, mother; you are always first with me."

When Christina's hour was nearly at its close, Isabel went to her brother's parlor door. Theodora was singing the sweetest little melody and her voice was so charmful that Isabel could not tap at the door-as Christina had been instructed to do-until it ceased. And for many a day the words haunted her, though she always told herself there was neither sense nor reason in them.