"Did you finish your business in London, father?" Margaret questioned.
"Not quite. It must stand over for a few weeks. I shall not leave home again for the present."
Though he spoke so quietly, Margaret knew her father must be very sore at heart. She had often wondered why her mother was more at her ease when not in her husband's presence, and now she understood the reason. Mrs. Fowler was conscious that he was always keeping a watch upon her, that he did not trust her, and dear though he was to her, she stood in awe of him.
Until her illness in the spring, he had always allowed her, her own way. But his alarm for her well-being once aroused, he had taken the reins of government into his own hands, and had shown her plainly that he meant his will to be law. She had always been a pleasure-seeking woman and fond of society; but, broken down in health, she had not found life at Yelton so utterly unbearable as she had anticipated. Her husband had devoted much of his time to her, and, thrown more in contact with her little daughter, she had begun to take a deeper interest in her than she had done before.
She had always been pleased to notice her beauty, but of late, she had discovered that Margaret possessed other and higher attractions—goodness and unselfishness—which she could not but admire. She saw the little girl had inherited many of her father's excellent qualities of mind and heart, and uneasily conscious of her own weakness of character, she was delighted that it was so. Unfortunately there had never been the same sympathy of feeling between Margaret and her mother as there had always been between the little girl and her father.
Now, as she strolled by Mr. Fowler's side up and down the lawn, she slipped her hand through his arm, whilst she leaned her head confidingly against his shoulder, as she said, "Father, I'm so very glad you've come home."
[CHAPTER XI.]
Josiah at His Worst.
THE afternoon subsequent to her husband's return, Mrs. Fowler was sufficiently well to come downstairs and lie on the sofa in the drawing-room. Margaret, who had gone back to her usual routine of work with Miss Conway, saw little of her mother during the next few days, and after Mr. Fowler drove to N— one morning, and brought Mrs. Lute home with him, Mrs. Fowler spent most of her time with her friend, and avoided her little daughter's society as much as possible.
Mrs. Lute, though she had been much astonished when Mr. Fowler had frankly explained to her that his was now a teetotal household, was far too well-bred a woman to question him concerning what his wife had called his "fad;" and though she had been accustomed all her life to the sparing use of stimulants, she could very well do without them, and was perfectly satisfied and happy at Greystone.