"Well, Clara," said her mother, "you don't expect to have the high-strung, pleasurable excitement of a bride all the time, do you? I know my experience was like yours, Clara, and I think from all those I have heard talk about such matters that theirs is also the same. So I take it for granted that is how it should be, and cannot be made different. I would not let my mind dwell on it if I were you, Clara; for you have got one of the best men for a husband, a fine boy, and a very comfortable home."
After hearing what her mother had to say, Clara thought it best not to say any more, for her mother had given her no satisfactory answer, and seemed to know no more about such matters than she herself did. But she kept thinking, "Did it have to be so?"
During the time that Clara was busy with these thoughts and talks with her mother, there was a man walking through his orchard, apparently looking at the fruit buds, but his mind was pre-occupied with another subject. He was thinking that it was five years ago since he and Clara were married, and he was thinking how happy he was when he brought her to his home. He was thinking also of the thrills of joy and pleasure her presence gave him before marriage, and for a month or two afterwards, when she took his hand in hers and then kissed it; how soothing and delightful it was; and what an attractive power she had. But now, how different.
"It is just the same as if I kissed myself. She is just as good, just as loving a wife, so kind and thoughtful, and we never have had any words, but there is something. I cannot find words to express what I mean. Is it tameness? Are other married persons like that?" And he began to think about the married life of some of his friends. "There was Winchester and his wife, I remember them when they were courting, they seemed inseparable, and for a while after they were married they could not see any one else but each other. If they were out anywhere they would sit together holding each other's hands, and not wishing to say much to any one else. After they had been married six months I notice they have quit holding each other's hands, and now you seldom see them together much. With how few married couples who have been married six years do you see that suppleness and alertness, that zeal to please each other, and be with one another that you see in couples about to be married."
Charles Herne thought, "Why is this so?" Why could not the same attractive power which exists between some couples when they are married be continued? Charles Herne did not know, his wife Clara Herne was no wiser than he on that subject, though neither of them had made their feelings known to the other.
CHAPTER XV.
A CONVERSATION ON THE PORCH.
Penloe had heard several times in regard to Charles Herne being an exceptionally fine man, liberal in thoughts, as far as he went, very just and generous to his men, so that the day that Penloe received a very kind invitation from Mr. and Mrs. Herne to be their guest for a few days, he accepted it knowing intuitively that he had a work to do there. As a guest Penloe was not always talkative, but what he did say was very interesting. He made himself one with men and they all took a great liking to him; Mr. and Mrs. Herne were very much impressed with the personality of their distinguished guest, and they enjoyed his visit with them. He had been several times there since his first visit, and they had become great friends.
Charles Herne remarked to his wife one day: "What a genial, sociable, humorous companion Penloe is; while of course, he is thoroughly in earnest and has but one purpose in all he does, which is to manifest what he calls the Divine, yet he is not serious, sober, and grave all the time; he is so joyous, hopeful, and full of good-natured fun, but he never lets it overcome him. I like him because he never says and does anything for effect or to be considered smart; he is so simple, humble, and unassuming in his manners, keeping himself in the background. His influence on me is so different to that of any other man, and impresses me very deeply. I always feel a better man after a talk with him. In short, I feel his fine influence in the room even when he is silent. He gave the men a powerful talk in their parlors the other evening. He has a faculty for adapting himself to each one; just knows what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. Several of the men have made the remark to me that he is a very dear brother to them."