And so she fooled herself into a pleasant attitude of mind. Indeed she joked about it. Sitting snugly in a deck-chair she watched Geraldine and Richard as they superintended the bringing of luggage to the surface and having it stacked properly, labelled and lettered.
“Now I shall begin to be appreciated,” she announced cheerfully. Geraldine had dropped beside her, spent from the exertion. “When I did everything, nobody knew what it cost me. I could worry over every hair-pin, but nobody cared. That’s because nobody knew the price I paid for their comfort. That was a mistake, I see. I did too much. Now I’m going to take a rest for awhile and collect. What a fool I was to slave the way I did! And the blessed relief, now that I’ve passed it over to you, Geraldine! I never remember feeling so lazy and comfortable and—beatific!”
No doubt it really was a blessed relief to give up the fight. Many dominant persons are like that; they spend three-quarters of their lives bullying their families into nervous servility, and suddenly plop down on the said families for the remaining one-quarter and invite themselves to be taken care of.
About Walter she said nothing. One never would think that only the evening before she had been literally struck down by the news of the horrible method Walter had taken to rid himself of her constant espionage. The shock had been terrific, for her confidence in the eternal rightness of her judgments had given her no preparation for the revelation when it came; but the very severity of the shock served a good purpose: it drove the whole incident into the depths of her mind. It was now something far away, a grief that distance and time had assuaged; something to be aware of, of course, to ponder over sadly, but whose sting was gone.
When Geraldine had told Richard of the graphic description of the struggle as related by the quiet Englishman, and then made clear the surprising manner in which Mrs. Wells had abdicated, he said it was quite normal so to act.
“Of course the shock did its work,” he said. “It knocked her out completely. She may recover, but I doubt it. She has held a mild despotism for the strong years of her life. This is like a successful revolution breaking out against her. Otherwise she acts in quite a natural human way. In his lectures, James used to enjoy telling about these freak shifts of character. When we give up an ideal or an ambition it is really a great relief. Instead of disappointment we actually have happiness. James used to be fond of describing the lady of thirty-five who at nine-fifteen of a certain evening decides that she no longer cares to be thin. That will be her first night’s perfect sleep. The struggle is over. She tosses the dietary to the winds, lets out her waistband, and takes to a rocking chair and sets loose the springs of laughter. Your mother, it seems to me, has been living on a strain; she really carried herself a notch or two above her strength. It will be a great joy to her to let down and be natural. I predict you will find her a much more agreeable companion after this.”
For the present at least Richard’s prediction was verified every hour. Instead of the semi-querulous person who checked off every article of personal belonging and bossed stewards, porters, and even customs officials, she walked down the gang-plank with only a slender handbag and cheerfully sat on a trunk and permitted Richard to superintend the irritating job of going through the customs. She offered no advice, but she was not slow to see the humour of the situation and to proffer broadly satiric suggestions to the workers.
Walter, too, was in splendid spirits, splendid for Walter. He tagged along with Richard and showed a sort of weak interest in the formalities of customs inspection. The fact that the mother had given her word that she would let him alone made the day seem to him like the first day of vacation. He was almost cheerful.
He followed Richard willingly enough because, he assured himself, he had that man in his power. An assumed name is not taken up without a lot back of it. And Richard permitted him to think so, even going so far as to take him aside more than once and have him pledge all over again his vow of secrecy. Walter, too, was fooling himself, pretending to himself that he was a clever man, but all the while he was mortally afraid of jail, and the unexpressed thought of it was the controlling power in his attachment to Richard. No one had ever suggested jail before. Like an irresponsible child he had always been allowed to work his little game for money. Of course they had scolded, but always they had let him off.
When Freneau had come along to help he discovered Richard in full charge of the Wells’ affairs.