“I shall not return until late. Do not wait for me.”
And so, with this evil impression—without caring for her explanation—Harry was gone. He had evidently been inspired with a sense of wrong, and he showed it; he had been led to believe that Adriana doubted and complained of him, and he was determined to make her feel that he resented her complaining. And oh! how bitter were the hours she sat alone, pondering the cruel situation in which the wickedness of others had placed her! Nor could she help a feeling of resentment against Rose. In every crisis of her life this girl had interfered to bring her sorrow. “She is my evil genius,” she said angrily, “and not only mine, but Antony’s also. Poor Antony! He has to suffer like me every wrong and injustice, and yet to hold his peace.” And her heart was heavy, and she felt a dark despair and a fretful anger striving with her prudence and affection, and urging her at all risks to set herself clear in Harry’s eyes. “But to what purpose?” she asked. “He does not believe—that is, he does not want to believe me. My patience has brought me only injustice; and in vain, in vain, have I washed my hands in innocency.”
But youth finds it possible to hope that such dark hours must be followed by day, and after a sleep Adriana thought, “Things will wear themselves right by to-morrow.” They did not. It was an unfortunate 207 time for a dispute. Harry was looking for a house for Rose, and was nearly constantly with his mother, and all his sympathies were enlisted for his “poor dear sister.” He was working for her comfort, and therefore he loved her; and nothing was in his heart or on his tongue for the following week but Rose, and a house for Rose, and when it was secured, the preparations necessary to make it suitable for her habitation.
As the time approached for the arrival of the steamer, it was a continual sending and looking for telegrams. Mrs. Filmer was in a fever of expectation. She spent the last day in doubting, fearing and watching, until she was almost hysterical. That she had a husband who ought at such times to be her stay did not seem to enter her mind; and Harry was kept at his mother’s side, or sent off to the dock or the shipping office, continually.
“The steamer is expected to be at her dock about ten o’clock, and you had better be at Rose’s house to welcome her there,” said Harry, as he took his early and hurried breakfast, and kept every one fidgety by his haste.
“I cannot do that and do my duty to my own house and child, Harry. The doctor will not call to see baby until eleven.”
“The doctor and the nurse are surely enough for one morning. I shall feel it to be a great slight to Rose if you are not there to welcome her.”
“Very well, if you wish it, I will leave baby and go to Rose.”
“And do try and be kind and sympathetic, and let the dear girl feel that she is welcome home again.”
“I shall not fail, Harry.”