“We’re old fashioned here,” she said. “Meals served on the minute. That’s the way I was brought up. And Mr. Vincelle was very strict; if one of the boys was late for a meal, he had to sit at one side of the room till we’d all finished and then eat by himself.”
“I know.... I’m sorry,” said Claudine. “But I couldn’t find things, this first evening.”
Gilbert looked at her indulgently for an instant, and then turned his attention to the roast chickens that had been set before him. He rather prided himself upon his carving, he felt sure that Claudine would observe and admire his dexterity. He had had, in fact, ever since they had arrived that afternoon, an air of showing off, as much as to say—here you can see me in my own kingdom, at my ease, my natural self. He had consciously tried to impress her; he had given a great many orders to the servants, and had found fault. But he had not produced the impression he intended; Claudine saw him suddenly as a little boy, pampered, spoiled, but led by the nose. His mother ruled him absolutely.
In a way she was pleased to find that in spite of his sturdiness and his impatient masculinity he was certainly very human, but on the other hand, it frightened her. She so greatly needed to respect him, to look up to him, to see in him a great spiritual authority. She had left the security and peace of her girlhood to follow him, and he must lead.
Why did he look so young and sulky to-night? He caught her looking at him and he smiled again, tenderly, but with a sort of constraint. It never occurred to her that he too was suffering from a great disappointment. He had believed, poor devil, that with Claudine he would have a new life; and lo, it was nothing but the old life with a new person in it. She was overshadowed; she had suddenly lost importance; she had quite ceased to be that rare and precious creature he had adored, and had become a sort of phantom.
“You’re not eating!” said the old lady, suddenly. “Don’t tell me you don’t like chicken!”
For she too had her disappointment. She had arranged a dinner really sumptuous according to her very frugal mind, and no one appreciated it!
“Oh, yes, I do like it, very much!” said Claudine, hastily. “Only ... I think I must be a little tired. It was so stuffy in the train.”
“You mustn’t take notions about your food,” said the old lady. “A young married woman owes it to other people to keep up her health and strength. You must eat, whether you feel like it or not.”
“Yes, I know!” said Claudine, pleasantly.