A lady and her husband

by Amber Reeves Blanco White

JAMES dressed next morning in an atmosphere of doubt. As soon as he recognised this he disliked it extremely; doubt of any kind was uncongenial to his simple, impetuous mind. He could not, looking quickly back over what had happened, find any particular reason for blaming himself, but as the unhappy little mother had been upset he was ready to admit that somewhere, on some delicate point of sentiment, he had erred. It was a confounded nuisance; he didn't quite see, what was more, what line he ought to adopt to put it right. When women get ideas into their heads they are often—a wise man will recognise the fact—as obstinate as men. Mercifully this seldom happens. Most women's minds move with certainty only among the small values of social life where one can give way to them with a shrug of the shoulders. Here, however, the unusual had happened and something would have to be done. In the intervals of dressing he pictured to himself, with a smile, poor Mary perched precariously on the back of her great high horse of Utopian justice, imagining, brave little soul, that she could control such an ancient deceiver of man. It was a pathetic conception, and a trifle disquieting, for if he knew Mary she'd be thrown off before she came off of her own accord.

He sighed as he caught sight in the glass of the curious ungraceful gesture of a man who is tightening the knot of his tie.

These ideas were in the air—even one's womenfolk weren't free from them. Mary had certainly caught this excitement from Rosemary—he had been, perhaps, rather blind not to foresee it. Trent had foreseen it all right, for what that was worth. Well, Rosemary would be marrying before long, and then her influence over her mother would be interrupted—James could not conceive of Mary's defying him without somebody's sustaining influence. In another year Rosemary would be busy with her natural duties and Mary would have settled down to happy evenings for the girls or something equally harmless. His line—that quick way out of a difficulty which he always sought—was to hang the idea of a public company over Mary's head, and suggest to Rosemary that it was time she made her Hastings happy—James didn't believe in long engagements. He might, too, turn Mary on to some sort of convalescent affair by the seaside—she had suggested one herself, he remembered. He wished he had thought of referring to that last night—then she would not have found him unsympathetic.

It was Tuesday, his early day, when he went to East London, and he did not expect to find anyone down to breakfast. Mary, after an illness she had had two years before, had been forbidden to shorten her sleep. However, Rosemary, for purposes of her own, was also up early, looking as delightful as she was accustomed to look in the morning.

James kissed her with the pleasure which this act always inspired in him, and told her that he was glad to have somebody to pour out his coffee. "Though I imagine it won't be for very much longer," he added.

Rosemary did not allow this attack to ruffle her pleasing tranquillity. She considered that emotion is wasted on the ordinary commerce of life. "I wanted to speak to you about that, father," she told James. "Anthony and I think we would like to get married soon, but of course it depends upon you. Tony is making £400 a year now, and he doesn't think you will think that sufficient. I know nothing about it, I'm afraid."

James accepted this challenge. "Oh, no, you wouldn't. You modern young ladies take an interest in everything except your own business. Do you intend, may I ask, to go on knowing nothing about it after you are married?"

Rosemary turned calm eyes upon her father, who was helping himself to some kidneys in his most brisk and efficient manner. "Oh, no," she told him. "I expect when one's got to do it, it will be quite interesting, only I don't think—do you?—that it's worth giving very much time to beforehand. As a matter of fact I am having cooking lessons. I could grill your kidneys for you better than this."

James was delighted to hear it, and assured her that he would be glad to know of any definite amount that she and her Anthony would consider sufficient.

Rosemary didn't know, but in any case she would prefer not to take more than Anthony was earning.