The Graftons: A Novel

by Archibald Marshall

He was in process of adjusting himself all round. He would not have believed beforehand that so many of the ways of a large house could have been imported into a small one, run with one servant, as were surrounding him in Stone Cottage. They would not always live exactly as they were going to live during the few days of Grafton's visit But the life to which they were already settling down was far more elaborate than any he had ever lived before, even in Worthing's bachelor establishment, which was run on more elaborate lines than those of his father's vicarage.

Caroline busied herself greatly about the house, doing much of the work in the rooms, and even in the kitchen, herself. But that was when he was out. Whenever he saw her she was no more occupied with such work than she had been at the Abbey. She would be in her drawing-room, having changed her clothes, ready to give him his tea when he came home, and she would keep him bright company afterwards. Then she would dress for dinner, and of course it was taken for granted that he would dress, too. The little dinner would be perfect, and the invaluable maid would serve it in such fashion that it was difficult to think of her as having also cooked it. Then after their coffee they would go into the drawing-room, where it seemed profanation for Maurice to smoke a pipe. So, though Caroline encouraged him to do so, he was preparing himself to knock it off altogether, and content himself with a cigarette after dinner until later in the evening.

To a man brought up to this way of living it would have been a miracle of happiness to have had it all so cleverly provided for him by the young wife who was anxious that he should miss nothing of what he had been used to. The little parlour, beautifully furnished as it was, was not a lady's boudoir, in which a man could not feel himself at home. There was a big easy chair, books, and magazines, arrangements for writing. But though the whole house and all its arrangements were to Caroline the last word in simplicity and economy, it was complicated luxury to him, of a sort that he could only adopt as his ordinary mode of life for her sake. It was not he who had gained it for her, or he might have taken more pride in it. As against this it was part of her, who was so much more delicately nurtured than himself, and the fit setting for her delicate charm, which he, as much as any of those who considered it ill-allied with his outward absence of charm and delicacy, thought of as setting her above him. So he was happy in adapting himself to what meant restraint and careful watchfulness to him. In all essentials her desires were as simple and unenvious as his. He knew that if their lot had been cast in a new country, where she would have had few or none of the refinements that she had always lived with, she would have made nothing of doing without them, and would have worked for him as he would have worked for her. She should never guess, if he could help it, that this sophisticated life was uncongenial to him. He had her, as his constant delight and treasure, and what did anything else matter?

Caroline went to the station alone to meet her father. Maurice had work to finish at the office, or said he had. He thought that Grafton would like to have her to himself alone at their first meeting. He was full of these little delicacies of mind, and of thoughtfulness for others. And her tenderness for her father had awakened an echo of it in himself. He had been so generous to him, giving him this priceless gift, which he had done so little to deserve, and losing so much in the giving of it. He was anxious to please him, and efface himself in doing so. There was not much he could do to show him gratitude. But she could do a great deal.

Only, if Grafton were preparing to transfer the centre of his affections from the hearts that had hitherto held it, Maurice would not look upon him with quite the same eyes.

He thought about it as he sat at his table in the office, not very busy with the work that he had given himself to do. He could not yet get used to the idea, try as he would. He thought that it was troubling Caroline, though she was preparing herself to welcome it if it should happen. It disturbed him somewhat that there was already a subject upon which they could not talk together with the freedom which it was their joy to use in everything. But to express all his thoughts would be to criticise her father, and he would not do that. In the sanguine spirit of youth, he hoped that this visit would prove that the fear was unfounded, and returned to his work.

In the meantime Caroline, driving to the station, was wondering what Maurice really thought of it, for she knew well enough that he had not told her all his thoughts. He might just as well have done so, for she divined the course they took, and was only ignorant of the strength of his antagonism to the idea. In this, as in smaller matters, she had to distinguish between ideas of his which arose from his true and right attitude to the basic facts of life and conduct, and those prompted by his limited experience. In all essentials she respected his judgment as that of no other man. But in some non-essentials she knew that her own opinion was of more value than his, and that she could influence him. Was this question of her father's marriage one in which she ought to take his view, or be guided by her own wider experience, and influence him towards hers? She was divided between loyalty to her father and loyalty to her husband, but for the present she no more than he was able to solve the problem. She put it from her mind, and gave herself up to pleasure in the prospect of seeing her father again.

But even this pleasure was slightly tinged with doubt. Two strands were interwoven in her love for her father. Of late years he had been so much her preferred companion, and her position in his household had been such, that there had come about a sense of equality more than exists commonly between father and daughter. It was the spirit of companionship that in its fullest measure she had transferred to Maurice, and its transference had thrown into relief again the filial relationship, which had been strengthened by the quality of the love her father had shown towards her over her marriage. He had effaced himself. There had been no flaw in his tender paternal care for her welfare and happiness. Her grateful devotion to him was stronger than ever, but it flowed towards his fatherhood in a fuller degree than of late years. She recognised this change in her and thought that the idea of his marriage to one who had shared with her the happy associations that were not wholly filial would not have perplexed her as it did now if it had arisen a year before. She was not so far from Maurice in her emotions towards it as either of them thought.

But the doubts were all swept away when they met. He was her father, loving and overjoyed to see her again, and apparently as excited at the prospect of playing guest to her hostess as she was.

She had hardly ever seen him in higher spirits than during their drive home together. They laughed together all the time, and she felt the bond between them to be as strong as ever.