The Three Fates

by F. Marion Crawford

She buried her face and her blushes in her hands upon her mother’s shoulder. Totty patted her head affectionately and kissed her curls several times in a very motherly way. Her own face was suffused with smiles for she felt that she had done a very good day’s work, and was surprised to think that it had been accomplished so easily. The fact was that Mamie was only too ready to speak of what filled her whole life, and had more than once been on the point of telling her mother all she felt. She had supposed, however, that she knew the ways of her mother’s wisdom, and that George’s poverty would always be an insuperable obstacle. She did not now in the least understand why Totty made so light of the question of money, and even in her great happiness at finding such ready sympathy she thought it very strange that she should have so completely mistaken her mother’s character.

From that day, however, there was a tacit understanding between the two. Mamie was in that singular and not altogether dignified position in which a woman finds herself when she loves a man and has determined to win him, though she is not loved in return. There are doubtless many young women in the world who, whether for love or for interest, have wooed and won their present husbands, though the latter have never found it out, and would not believe it if it were told to them. Mamie differed from most of these, however, in that she was as modest as she was loving, and in her real distrust of her own advantages, which defect, or quality, was perhaps at the root of her peculiar charm. She knew that she was not beautiful, and she believed that beauty was a woman’s strongest weapon. She had yet to learn that the way to men’s hearts is not always through their eyes.

After her confession to her mother she began to discover the value of that ingenious lady’s experience and tact. At first, indeed, she felt a modest hesitation in coolly doing what she was told, as a means of winning George’s heart, but she soon found out that her mother was always right and that she herself was generally wrong.

“There is only one way of doing things,” said Totty, one day, “and that is the right way. There is only one thing that a man really hates, and that is, being bored. And men are very easily bored, my dear. A man likes to have everything done for him in the most perfect way, but it spoils his enjoyment to feel that it is done especially for him and for nobody else. If you are afraid he will catch cold, do not run after him with his hat, as though he were an invalid. That is only an example, Mamie. Men have an immense body of tradition to sustain, and they do it by keeping up appearances as well as they can. All men are supposed to be brave, strong, honourable, enduring and generous. They are supposed never to feel hot when we do, nor to catch cold when we should. It is a part of their stage character never to be afraid of anything, and many of them are far more timid than we are. I do not mean to say that dear George has not all the qualities a man ought to have. Certainly not. He is quite the finest fellow I ever knew. But he does not want you to notice the fact. He wants you to take it for granted, just as much as little Tippy Skiffington does, who is afraid of a mouse and would not touch a dog that had no muzzle on for all he is worth, which is saying a great deal. Dear George would not like it to be supposed that he cares for terrapin and dry champagne any more than for pork and beans—and yet the dear fellow is keenly alive to the difference. He does not want it to be thought he could ever be bored by you or me, but he knows that we know that he might be, and he expects us to use tact and to leave him alone sometimes, even for a whole day. He will be much more glad to see us the next time we meet him and will show it by giving himself much more trouble to be agreeable. It is not true that if you run away men will follow you. They are far too lazy for that. You must come to them, but not too often. What they most want is amusement, and between their amusements, to be allowed to do exactly what their high and mighty intellects suggest to them, without comment. Never ask a man where he has been, what he has seen, nor what he has heard. If he has anything to tell, he will tell you, and if he has not you only humiliate him by discovering the emptiness of his thoughts. Always ask his opinion. If he has none himself, he knows somebody who has, no matter what the subject may be. The difference between men and women is very simple, my dear. Women look greater fools than they are, and men are greater fools than they look—except in the things they know how to do and do well.”

“George is not a fool about anything!” said Mamie indignantly. She had been listening with considerable interest to her mother’s homily.

“George, my dear,” answered Totty, “is very foolish not to be in love with you at the present moment. Or, if he is, he is very foolish to hide it.”

“I wish you would not talk like that, mamma! I am not half good enough for him.”

Nevertheless Mamie consulted her mother and was guided by her. George would ride—should she accept his proposal and go with him or not? A word, a glance decided the matter for her, and George was none the wiser. He could not help thinking, however, that Mamie was becoming an extremely tactful young person, as well as a most agreeable companion. One day he could not resist his inclination to tell her so.

“How clever you are, Mamie!” he exclaimed after a pause in the conversation.

“I? Clever?” The girl’s face expressed her innocent astonishment at the compliment.