"Of course," he said, "Mrs. Campbell would sing. Why not? Was he not always happy to oblige the doctor and benefit the church?" And it never struck him that he was assuming an absolute right in Theodora's voice, and in her use of it; because he actually felt what he assumed. Nor did he see that in giving her voice to benefit the church he was thinking solely of the church as a religious society, and the souls composing it were never for a moment in his calculation. Both of these facts were clear to the minister, and he hoped that when Campbell saw and felt the effects of his concession he would be disposed to give some thanks to Theodora, and so get a glimpse of what he owed to a wife so good, so clever, and so lovely.
It was remarkable that he never named the subject to his mother, and to Theodora he only spoke of the minister's visit, and asked if he had called on her.
"Yes," she answered, "I made all arrangements with him." She did not dare to express her pleasure, for in that case she knew by experience he would probably cancel his concession. She permitted him to think she was willing to oblige the doctor, because he wished it, and then he felt it necessary to say that it was for "the good of the church, and that he had only consented to her singing for that reason."
Two days afterwards Mrs. Robertson called on Theodora and they went out together, nor did Theodora return until after ten o'clock. At that hour Mrs. Campbell sent for her son to discuss Dora's absence with him. She found him satisfied, instead of angry, as she supposed he would be.
"It is quite right, mother," he said. "Dora is dining with the Robertsons. I was invited, but I preferred to remain at home."
"You did the proper thing. Neither I nor your sisters were invited. I consider our neglect a great insult."
"No insult was intended, mother. They are infatuated with Dora, and I dare say have invited some of the congregation to meet her. Why, there she is now!" he exclaimed, "and I wonder who is with her?"
"I advise you to find out."
He followed the advice, and went to the open door. Theodora was in the embrace of Mrs. Oliphant. "You darling," she was saying, "I can hardly wait for Sunday. O, how are you, Mr. Campbell? You ought to have been with us. We have had the loveliest evening with your adorable wife—but we have brought her safe home."
Then Mr. Oliphant laughed: "You ought to keep at her side, Campbell. Every man o' us would like to run awa' with her."