There was no embarrassment in the face of her daughter-in-law, only a trace of distaste. She was silent, and the older woman did not pursue the subject. They talked of the price of food and of Mrs. Allenby’s gooseberry jam. Then Matthew smoked in the little parlor and Fliss insisted, in the human way she could, upon swathing her broadcloth suit with one of Mrs. Allenby’s aprons and helping with the dishes. Mrs. Allenby eyed her a little grimly as Fliss stacked the dishes one on top of the other without scraping off the left-over food, and Fliss caught the look.
“I’m a shock as a daughter-in-law,” she said flippantly, and yet without impudence.
“Well,” answered Mrs. Allenby, “I might not have picked you out for Matthew, but he might have done a lot worse. You’re pretty and a man likes a pretty woman. I always wished I’d been prettier. Matthew’s father was a gentleman, but he did like pretty things. And then you’re honest with my boy.”
“I am honest; I’ll always be honest. I promise you, Mrs. Allenby. I’m silly and I haven’t much brains and I suppose you can see that in most ways I’m not in Matthew’s class, but I’m going to try to give him a good time and I’m honest with him.”
She meant more than that, but it was hard to say and, after all, unnecessary. Mrs. Allenby gave her a little approbative tap on the shoulder.
“Good girl,” she said. “Don’t you worry. I can see things. It isn’t always the useful woman a man likes. I can see you aren’t much for housekeeping—and babies. Some women aren’t. But just so as you make him happy”—she paused and finished on a beautifully soft note—“he’s a lovely boy.”
It was rarely that Fliss felt that some one understood her. She felt it now. But both of them being very practical and unsentimental, they carried the discussion no further. Mrs. Allenby cloaked herself in her sharp efficiency and Fliss airily polished the plates. She told Matthew that night that she was going to get on well with his mother. It was then that he told her that she was adaptable.
“I shall never forget how you acted that night Cecily’s baby was born. That was the first time I guessed how adaptable you were.”
“That was a funny time,” said Fliss, somewhat coldly.
They stayed a week with Mrs. Allenby and by the time they left Fliss had begun to be very jocose and free with her mother-in-law. She showed her how she was teaching Matthew to dance, she rendered popular vaudeville songs on the wheezy old piano, she exhibited all her trousseau lingerie to the old lady with a running fire of absurd comment, and tried to bestow a lace trimmed boudoir cap upon her.