Luke's wife

by Evelyn R. Garratt

But Rachel's unappreciative glance round at the walls and furniture hurt her inexpressibly, as she had lain awake many nights planning how she could make the little house as homelike and attractive as possible. She quite thought she had succeeded. Having lived all her life with early Victorian furniture she saw nothing ugly in it; and indeed it struck her as both homelike and comfortable. She had, moreover, spared several pieces of furniture which she had decidedly missed when she had had to turn out into a barely furnished room for the sake of her son's wife. But evidently nothing that she had done for Rachel's comfort was appreciated. The disappointment was so great that she turned a little pale.

"I am sorry Rachel," she said, in a strained tone of voice, "that we were not able to supply you with Sheraton furniture. You see you have changed a luxurious home for a poor one and must bear the consequences. We have to cut our coat according to our cloth. I am sorry that our efforts are so painful to you."

Rachel had flushed crimson.

She was tongue-tied for the moment. She could not tell a lie and say that the furniture, which she had labelled in her mind as hideous, was to her taste. She looked beseechingly at Mrs. Greville.

"I am sorry, my dear, if I have distressed you by my remark," said Mrs. Greville, "but don't try to explain the look you gave at the furniture, I could not possibly mistake its meaning."

Then while Rachel in her confusion and distress murmured her regret, Mrs. Greville looked round the dining-room.

"I think perhaps I ought to have had the walls papered afresh and a lighter colour," she had said. "I daresay it looks a little dull to a young creature like you, and," she added, remorse getting the better of her, "I ought to be grateful to you, for though you don't like my papers you love my son," and Mrs. Greville ended by bestowing a hearty kiss on her son's wife before hurrying away.

Rachel was left standing in the middle of the room with her eyes full of tears. Something about her mother-in-law had touched her for the first time; and she began to wonder if she might not possibly in the future learn to love her. She wondered too how she could ever look her in the face again. She must have seemed so terribly ungrateful and ungracious, not to say ill mannered. But her glance round the room at the walls and its furniture had been quite involuntary, and she had had no intention whatever of letting Mrs. Greville know how she disliked them.

She smiled now as she remembered her mother-in-law's criticism on her pretty overall, but the smile faded as she realised that though she had taken the Bishop's advice and was trying hard not to allow her thoughts to rest on the trials that she had had to meet in her new home, she had not by any means yet succeeded in learning to love her mother-in-law.