“I know. It has been dreadful. But you have been very patient. And Mr. Farrar has been a hero. And things are going to be better.”
“No, I haven’t been patient. I haven’t reconciled myself to the situation at all. I have been placed in a most cruel position. I suppose Mr. Farrar is right. I know he must be right, because he is a good man. But if only it could have been done without making me suffer so!”
She put her handkerchief to her eyes to dry the ready tears. Tears had come so freely and so frequently in these last days.
Ruth, moved with deep pity, crossed the room, and sat by her, and took her hand in both of her own.
“I am so sorry for you,” she said; “so sorry. But you know Mr. Farrar could not have done otherwise than he has done without belittling his calling as a minister. And you, as his wife, must try to forget yourself and your troubles, and help and comfort and encourage him.”
“I can’t, Miss Tracy. It’s impossible. I lack both the strength and the ability. I haven’t what he calls ‘the vision.’ I haven’t any of the qualities that fit a woman to be a minister’s wife, and he knows it, and he has told me so.”
“Mrs. Farrar, you must be mistaken. Surely he would not——”
“No, I am not mistaken. It’s all true. He knows I am utterly incapable, and he treats me accordingly. He never consults me about his work or his plans. He doesn’t even mention them to me any more. I don’t blame him. He knows it would be useless. I can’t understand them, and I can’t understand him nor sympathize with any of his views. I’m only a drag on him—a burden. It would be so much better if I were entirely out of his way.”
“Mrs. Farrar! You must not talk so.”