It was too dark to see him, but Charlotte knew that his lips were apart and his teeth grinning in an evil smile.
“But why, Mrs. Maclaughlin?” said Charlotte suddenly. “If danger is coming, it will come. No human power can stop it. The future is as unreadable as the very sky. But why borrow trouble for what we are powerless to resist? And if there is beauty and majesty in all this conflict of the elements, surely it is better to see that, than to sit dreading the unknown. Mr. Kingsnorth’s comparisons are not unjust. It is like a great piece of music, divided into movements. Whatever it may come to later, it is glorious now.”
“Spoken like a brave woman,” Kingsnorth cried. “Let loose the dogs of war and make Rome howl! Well, we don’t care; do we, Mrs. Collingwood?”
“Not much,” Charlotte assented, though somewhat coldly. Her manner brought him to a sudden check.
“I forgot,” he stammered. “Excuse me.”
“Forgot what?” This point blank query about a remark not addressed to herself emanated from Mrs. Maclaughlin.
“Dear Mrs. Mac,” Kingsnorth said, and Charlotte winced at his tone, “you do not realize how quickly you deteriorate once out of reach of Mac’s disciplining eye. Mac would never have permitted you to ask that question. I often wonder if, had it been my good fortune to marry, I should have been able to exert the strong guiding influence over my wife that Mac evidently holds over you.”
“Oh, you have,” replied Mrs. Mac, while Charlotte sat in helpless embarrassment at the scene. “Well, let me tell you that you wouldn’t have. You might have broken her heart, the Lord knows, as you’d probably have broken your children’s spirits, if you’d ’a’ had ’em; but no woman would ever be proud to be ruled by you as I’m proud to be ruled by Mac. I’m disciplined. You hit the nail on the head there. And maybe I fall back when Mac isn’t around. But I love that old man of mine. I’ve followed him over deserts and oceans. I may have let my mind go once in a while; but no woman on God’s green earth would have married you and lived with you twenty-two years, and still have loved you as I love Mac. I’ve been rebellious sometimes with the Almighty, and it hasn’t always seemed as if the powers above knew what they were about. But the good Lord did a wise thing when He kept women and children out of your hands, John Kingsnorth.” She arose with a snort of wrath and passed into the house. “Where’s my Bible?” they heard her saying to herself. “I brought it.”
For a second or two, Charlotte remained like Kingsnorth, half paralyzed by the outburst. Then a helpless, pitying embarrassment settled upon her. It was all so terribly true, it was such a baring of naked underfeelings. Would it ever be possible, she wondered, to resume the island life after such an indecent exposure of what simmered deep in Mrs. Maclaughlin’s heart? Then, as the silence grew, she cast about vainly for some change of subject. As if divining her thoughts, Kingsnorth rose.
“Already the tempest has broken,” he said. “It’s been brewing three years. I can’t complain; and I know you think she told the truth.”