“I don’t believe she knows any better, mother. She seems to have had a queer bringing-up. And she has always lived in a small sort of place, and of course she knows nothing at all about London.”
“Hardly a sufficient excuse,” I said.
“But, mother,—Jack was so afraid you would blame her. That was why he would not speak. He said he would much rather you should think it was all his fault. She’s a jolly girl, as full of fun as can be; and yet she can be grave too. She knows lots of history, and seemed as if she could never be tired of the monuments in the Abbey. It was as good as a history book to hear her talk. And once, when the organ was being played, she knelt down alone in a corner, away from us all, listening and looking—I can’t tell you how she looked. Jack said it was like something—a saint, I think. Cress laughed, but he told Maimie what Jack had said.”
“A saint means one who is holy,” I said. “If Maimie is going to lead my boys into wilful ways, and to teach them disobedience, she will prove herself to be anything but a saint, Owen.”
“Oh, but she won’t, mother,” he said affectionately. “Don’t you be afraid. She won’t do that, so you mustn’t be worried. Jack only didn’t like to get her blamed; and Cress always does like to be independent, you know.”
Yes; this was one of Cress’ failings, and it always had been. Jack’s stronger and more robust nature could more readily stoop to submission than Cress’ less manly nature. That is often to be seen. A little mind will fight against authority, where a great mind will at once obey. Cress’ failing in this respect was no new thing. But if Maimie were to back him up in his independence, how would matters be then?
“Jack will be angry with me for telling,” Owen remarked. And I promised that I would, if possible, avoid drawing in his name.
Partly for Owen’s sake, I resolved not to speak to Maimie immediately. Apart from Owen, there were other advantages in a slight delay. It is often a good plan to wait, when one has to find fault, until one has had time for weighing the matter, and deciding how much of blame is really due. Words spoken hastily on the moment’s impulse are apt to be needlessly strong, and so to cause needless irritation. Also, I was getting to know Maimie better each day.
She seemed to be quietly fitting into our home. I began to feel it quite natural to see her about.
Maimie was very winning in her ways. When she came down in the morning, with her rippling waves of hair, and her soft smiling eyes, kissing Cherry so lovingly, and throwing her arms round Robert, and greeting all the boys with such pleasant looks, I always was aware of a particular charm about her. She never threw her arms round me, or lifted her black eyes to mine with their sweetest expression. We just exchanged a kiss, and that was all. I admired the child, and did my best to feel rightly towards her, but somehow she held aloof. I think there was a feeling of resentment still at the words I had spoken about her stepfather.