“Yes, I see; but when the judge died there was nothing in the way of acknowledging the marriage. I am surprised and disappointed in Everard that he should treat you thus.”
Mrs. Rider’s sympathy was all with the injured wife, who seemed so patient and uncomplaining, and who replied:
“He had good reasons, no doubt. His father disinherited him, I believe, and that may have had its effect; but I do not wish it talked about until Everard comes. It is very awkward for me that he is absent. I expected to meet him. I must come, of course; there was no other way, for mamma recently died, and the old home was broken up. I must come to my husband.”
She kept asserting it as if in apology for her being there, and her voice trembled, and her whole air was one of such injured innocence that Mrs. Rider resolved within herself to stand by her in the face of all Rothsay, if necessary. Mrs. Rider was a very motherly little woman, and her heart went out at once to this girl, whose blue eyes and black dress appealed so strongly to her sympathies. She liked Everard, too, and did not mean to be disloyal to him, if she could help it, but she should stand by the wife; and she was so anxious to get away and talk up the wonderful news with her acquaintances that she forgot entirely the sirup she had brought for Rossie’s throat, and would have forgotten to inquire after Rossie herself if Aunt Axie had not accidentally put her head in the door and given vent to a grunt of surprise and disapprobation when she saw her in close conversation with Josephine, and, with her knowledge of the lady’s character for gossip, foresaw the result.
“Oh, Miss Rider, is you here?” she said, advancing into the room; “and does Miss Markham know it? I’ll fotch her directly, ’cause Miss Ros’mon’s too sick to see yer.”
“Never mind, Axie,” Mrs. Rider said, rising and beginning to adjust her waterproof. “I drove up to inquire after Rossie, and have spent more time than I intended talking with Mrs. Forrest,” and she nodded toward Josephine, who also arose and acknowledged the nod and name with a gracious bow.
She saw the impression she had made on her visitor, who took her hand at parting, and said:
“You will probably remain in Rothsay now, and I shall hope to see a great deal of you.”
Again Josephine bowed assentingly to Mrs. Rider, who at last left the room, followed by Axie, whose face was like a thunder-cloud as she almost slammed the door in the lady’s face in her anxiety to be rid of her.