And if a human can understand that state of mind he will understand a good deal of the mind of Mr. Trimblerigg.
Mr. Trimblerigg as soon as he was alone, read the letter carefully through. He remembered the occasion of it, but had forgotten the actual phrasing; he was astonished at its moderation.
‘I don’t believe she could ever have used it!’ he exclaimed to himself. Then he put it into the fire and watched it burn; and as he did so, he remembered Davidina’s advice: ‘The sooner you get married’ (meaning to Caroline) ‘the better.’
It may be—I am not quite sure—that this was what really decided him to marry Caroline. His feelings toward Caroline had undergone, since his uncle’s death, not a revulsion, but a diminution. He had begun to have his doubts whether he was the right husband for her; if she could find another and a better, he did not wish to be selfish. There were episodes in their courtship which had disappointed him; she was still pleasant to touch; but her mind was the sort which seemed only capable of responding with a ‘just so’ to whatever was said to it: equable, comfortable, and contented, but not stimulating.
Like a soft cushion, leaning on which you leave an impression, and the mark stays for awhile then slowly effaces itself, so she. Looking ahead he could see the sort of wife and mother that she would be; and if ever it should chance that one of her children were taken from her, or if he himself were to die young—she would be more like a mother cow separated from its milk than from its calf. Caroline was uneventful.
It was not an exciting prospect to look forward to. Nevertheless—and perhaps Miss Sparling had something to do with it—within a year of his uncle’s death, Jonathan Trimblerigg married Caroline.
And Davidina, out of her newly inherited wealth, gave them £100 to start their housekeeping; returning herself to the parental roof, where she stayed till a couple of years later Mr. and Mrs. Trimblerigg senior shared an influenza and died in the same week, and in the same bed.
After that, for some while Mr. Trimblerigg was comfortably rid of her. She developed a craze for travelling. But regularly every year, when a new child was born to them, Davidina sent them a present of £20.
CHAPTER TEN
He Rides for a Fall
IT would not have been well for Mr. Trimblerigg—for his training as an adept in the art of getting on—had his early ministerial career been entirely without obstacles. Had circumstances not kept him on the jump, his native agility might possibly have diminished; but from the very beginning obstacles presented themselves, and they were not all of one kind.