Now she was back again in ordinary life; and she found herself, as she might have expected, back also amid the old temptations, the old tendencies, the old difficulties. Nay, more—she was back amid the old views of life. A landscape, as seen from a lonely tower upon the hill-side, has a very different aspect from that same landscape looked upon from its own lowest level. She was assailed once more by the commonplace pleasures, the small distractions, the hourly inducements to self-indulgence, which surround us all; and she found resistance no easy matter.
Of course it was not easy—as Rob had frankly conceded. Life is not meant to be easy.
Though she would never forget what it had been to stand and wait in hourly expectation of news that dear little Merryl had passed away, conscious that she herself had had a hand in bringing about that peril—and though the shock of this experience had awakened and aroused her, and had made her look upon life with a new realisation—still, there was all the battle to be fought. Knowing that the foe is there, and must be conquered, is not at all the same thing as being victor. Magda knew; but the fight lay ahead.
One thing had become clear to her mind, in those weeks of graver thought—that there is a very definite danger in "drifting." She had to insist upon steady work for herself, of one kind or another. The resolution was for a time more easily carried out, because during their quarantine, few interruptions came, and social invitations were non-existent.
Her old favourite notion of a home some day with Rob was at this time strongly in the ascendant. While hardly willing to admit the fact even to herself, she was disappointed in Patricia; and being so naturally made her turn the more to Rob. She dwelt much upon this dream of the future, picturing the little house that she would share with him, and painting visions of herself as his housekeeper, his tried and valued sub-worker. Of possible trials and rubs and boredom in that life, she never thought. The whole view was rose-coloured.
Any day Rob might have the offer of a living. Though still so young, she knew that he had won golden opinions, that he had many friends, and that any of these friends might soon find just the right nook for him. When that happy day should arrive, he would want her. She never felt any doubt that this would be the case. For years there had been an understanding between them that when he needed her she would go—an understanding which no doubt was regarded much more seriously by Magda than by Rob. Still, though he had sometimes laughed, he had never discouraged the dream; and she looked upon it as a certainty. True, Mr. Royston might object; but if Rob wished it, Rob would get his way.
Magda decided that she would now, really and in sober earnest, begin to make herself ready for the life. A good deal would no doubt be needed. Not merely the study of music and history and languages—though Rob had intimated that all such learning might come in usefully—but, much more, habits of neatness, method, self-control, general usefulness. A mastery of cooking and needle-work suggested itself as desirable; and, during Mrs. Royston's absence, she went in for a course of cookery-lessons, much to Pen's astonishment. Also she set herself a daily task in plain needle-work, which hitherto she had disdainfully eschewed. Even darning and patching were included.
"Really, Magda is very much improved. Very much indeed!" Mr. Royston remarked one morning to Pen. His favourite notion of Woman presented her always as needle in hand, and he had never been able to reconcile himself to his second daughter's objection to sewing. "I found her yesterday in the school-room, making a child's frock."
"I wonder how long it will last," Pen could not resist saying.
"It will last; no doubt. She is growing older and more sensible. It will last," repeated Mr. Royston confidently. Breakfast was on the table, and the gong had sounded; but Magda unfortunately failed to appear in good time. No unusual event in the past, though lately she really had striven after punctuality as part of her preparation for the future. Mr. Royston expected everybody to be down before himself; and when she appeared, he showed displeasure. "Breakfast at such a reasonable hour as we have it—there can be no question of hardship," he declared.