The week following I began to feel that this was getting tiresome. Under other circumstances it might be very pleasant, but really I began to doubt whether I was enjoying it. But I made up my mind that during these days of leisure I ought to be making progress in the favor of my mother-in-law, with whom I was destined to live, nobody could say how many years. I couldn’t and wouldn’t make a martyr or a hypocrite of myself. I wouldn’t conceal my actions or deny myself freedom. So I smoked with Fred, played billiards, rolled ten-pins with Fred’s wife and Miss Van, and even beguiled Bessie into that vigorous and healthful exercise, which brought a gentle reprimand from her mother, addressed to her but directed at me. She did not think that kind of amusement becoming to ladies who had a proper respect for themselves.
“Why, mamma, Miss Van Duzen plays, and says she thinks it jolly fun,” said Bessie innocently.
“That doesn’t alter the case in the least,” was the rejoinder. “Miss Van Duzen can judge for herself. I don’t think it proper. Besides, your husband’s familiar way with those ladies—one of whom is married and no better than she ought to be, if appearances mean anything—does not please me at all.”
“O mamma, how absurd! I see no harm in it at all, and poor Lizzie, I am sure, never means any harm.”
“Well, well, my dear, I don’t wish to say anything about other people, and I only hope you will never have occasion to see any harm in your husband’s evident preference for the company of people with loose notions about proper and becoming behavior.”
On Saturday of that week a little incident occurred that raised me perceptibly in Mrs. Pinkerton’s estimation. The great, lumbering stage-coach came up just at evening, more heavily laden than usual, and top-heavy with trunks piled up on the roof. The driver dashed along with his customary recklessness, the six horses breaking into a canter as they turned to come up the rather steep acclivity to the house. The coach was drawn about a foot from its usual rut, one of the wheels struck a projecting stone, and over went the huge vehicle, passengers, trunks, and all. The driver took a terrible leap and was stunned. The horses stopped and looked calmly around on the havoc. There was great consternation in and about the house. Here my natural self-possession came into full play. I took command of the situation at once, directed prompt and vigorous efforts to the extrication of the passengers, had the injured ones taken into the house, applied proper restoratives, and in a few minutes ascertained that only one was seriously hurt. She was a young girl, who had insisted on riding outside, higher up even than the driver. She had been thrown headlong, striking, fortunately, on the grass, but terribly bruising one side of her face and dislocating her left shoulder. In a trice I had made her as comfortable as possible; dashed down to the village for the nearest doctor, having had the forethought to order a team harnessed in anticipation of such a necessity; and, having started the doctor up in a hurry, kept on to the neighboring county town for a surgeon who had considerable local reputation. I had him on the ground in a surprisingly short time, and before bedtime the unfortunate girl was put in the way of recovery, having received no internal injury.
My behavior in this affair, as I said, gave me a lift in my mother-in-law’s estimation, and of course filled Bessie with the most unbounded admiration, though I had never thought of the moral effect of my action. In the morning I determined to follow up my advantage. It was Sunday again, and I bespoke the team early, to go to the neighboring town, where there was an Episcopal church, and where, for that day, a distinguished divine from the city, who was spending his vacation in those parts, was to hold forth. When I had announced my preparation for the religious observance of the day, I actually received what was almost a smile of approval from my mother-in-law. I enjoyed the ride, and was not greatly bored by the service, for I was thinking of something else most of the time, or amusing my mind with the native congregation. We got back late to dinner, and the rest had left the dining-room. The ladies went in without removing their bonnets, and after dinner retired to their rooms.
As I came out on the piazza, Fred, who was walking about in a restless way, puffing his cigar with a sort of ferocity, as though determined to put it through as speedily as possible, shouted, “Hello! Charlie, old boy, where the eternal furies have you been? Here I have been about this dead, sleepy, stupid place all the morning, with nothing to do and nobody to speak to!”
“Why, where’s Mrs. M.?”
“Lib? Oh, she’s been here, but then she was reading a ghastly stupid novel, and wasn’t company; and she went off to the big boarding-house down the road half a mile, to dine with a friend. I wouldn’t go to the blasted place, and really think she didn’t want me to. But where in thunder were you all the while?”