"Folks can't always do as they want. I wish to goodness he would go."
"I can't think why you dislike poor James so much, mother."
"I can't abide idleness," said Mrs. Plunkett.
Marigold's eyes travelled round the kitchen, and inwardly she echoed, "I can't abide untidiness and temper!"
Mrs. Plunkett saw the glance, and understood. It jarred her into hasty speech. "Well, I can tell you your father don't mean to have nothing between you and Todd, so you just needn't think it. If you wasn't too young yourself, Todd's got no means to support a wife, and he's too easy-going ever to do it properly; and he's got no business now to think of such a thing!"
The words were hardly uttered, before Mrs. Plunkett regretted them. Marigold made no immediate answer. She stood considering,—as if that which before had been only a shadow, had suddenly taken shape. Then she put down the duster that she held, and said quietly, "James has found work now, and he means to keep to it," and went out of the kitchen.
The subject was not resumed when they again met. Mrs. Plunkett, vexed with her own indiscretion, resolved to say no more: and unfortunately she was ashamed to confess the blunder to her husband, or she might have aroused him to action. But the mischief was done. If Marigold had not before understood Todd's wishes, she understood them now; and the thought of James as her future husband had a definite place in her mind. With the clue supplied by her stepmother, Todd's bearing became unmistakable. Marigold could no longer go on unconsciously; and when Mrs. Plunkett was especially trying, her thoughts flew more swiftly than ever to James Todd's pleasant face. A home with him had so bright a look, by contrast. She would be able to do as she liked, to keep the place so beautifully neat and clean.
Nobody there would ever look cross, and nothing would ever go wrong. James might have been a little unsettled and lazy in the past, but once married he would be so no more. She would keep him up to the mark, and he would work hard, and they would be so happy!
But no woman, however good a wife, has power to change her husband's nature. Divine power alone can do that. It was all very well for James to say now: "I'd do anything for you, Marigold!" Had she been not quite so young, not quite so ignorant of life and of human nature, she must have known that a higher motive is needed to transform a man's life.
One day a message came, asking Marigold to go to tea at St. Philip's Vicarage, with Narcissus. This would be her first sight of Narcissus, since the latter's year of training began, and Marigold was delighted. She wondered if perhaps she might get a little talk alone with her sister. It would be nice to speak to her about James, since at home Marigold scarcely ventured to mention his name.