The Cameron pride; or, purified by suffering

by Mary Jane Holmes

To Katy she was very gracious, admiring her house, admiring herself, admiring everything, until Katy wondered how she could ever have dreaded to meet her, laughing and chatting as familiarly as if the fashionable woman were not criticising every movement, and every act, and every feature of her face, wondering most at the flour upon her hair!

Juno wondered, too, but knowing Katy’s domestic propensities, suspected the truth, and feigning some errand with Phillips, she excused herself for a moment and descended to the kitchen, where she was not long in hearing about Katy’s “queer ways, coming where she was not needed, and making country puddings after some heathenish aunt’s rule.”

“Was it Aunt Betsy?” Juno asked, her face betokening its disgust when told that she was right, and her manner on her return to the parlor was very frigid towards Katy, who had discovered the flour on her hair, and was laughing merrily over it, telling Sybil how it happened—how cross Phillips was—and lastly, how “our folks” often made the pudding, and that was why she wished to surprise Wilford with it.

There was a sarcastic smile upon Sybil’s lip as she wished Mrs. Cameron success and then departed, leaving Katy to finish the dessert, which, when ready for the table, was certainly very inviting, and would have tempted the appetite of any man who had not been listening to gossip not wholly conducive to his peace of mind.

On his way home Wilford had stopped at his fathers, where Juno was relating the particulars of her call upon his wife, and as she did not think it necessary to stop for him, he heard of Katy’s misdoings, and her general appearance in the presence of Sybil Grandon, whom she entertained with a description of “our folks’” favorite dishes, together with Aunt Betsy’s recipes. This was the straw too many, and since his marriage Wilford had not been as angry as he was while listening to Juno, who reported Sybil’s verdict on his wife, “A domestic little body and very pretty.”

Wilford did not care to have his wife domestic; he did not marry her for that, and in a mood anything but favorable to the light, delicate dessert Katy had prepared with so much care, he went to his luxurious home, where Katy ran as usual to meet him, her face brimming with the surprise she had in store for him, and herself so much excited that she did not at first observe the cloud upon his brow, as he moodily answered her rapid questions. When the important moment arrived, and the dessert was brought on, he promptly declined it, even after her explanation that she made it herself, urging him to try it for the sake of pleasing her, if nothing more. But Wilford was not hungry then, and even had he been, he would have chosen anything before a pudding made from a recipe of Betsy Barlow, so the dessert was untasted even by Katy herself, who, knowing now that something had gone wrong, sat fighting back her tears until the servant left the room, when she timidly asked, “What is it, Wilford? What makes you seem so——” She would not say cross, and so substituted “queer,” while Wilford plunged at once into the matter by saying, “Juno tells me she called here this afternoon with Mrs. Grandon.”

“Yes, I forgot to mention it,” Katy answered, feeling puzzled to know why that should annoy her husband; but his next remarks disclosed the whole, and Katy’s tears flowed fast as Wilford asked what she supposed Mrs. Grandon thought, to see his wife looking as if fresh from the flour barrel, and to hear her talk about Aunt Betsy’s recipes and “our folks.” “That is a bad habit of yours, Katy,” he continued, “one of which I wish you to break yourself, if possible. I have never spoken to you directly on the subject before, but it annoys me exceedingly, inasmuch as it is an indication of low breeding.”

There was no answer from Katy, whose heart was too full to speak, and so Wilford went on, “Our servants were selected by mother with a direct reference to your youth and inexperience, and it is not necessary for you to frequent the kitchen, or, indeed, to go there oftener than once a week. Let them come to you for orders, not you go to them. Neither need you speak quite so familiarly to them, treating them almost as if they were your equals. Try to remember your true position—that whatever you may have been you are now Mrs. Wilford Cameron, equal to any lady in New York.”

They were in the library now, and the soft May breeze came stealing through the open window, stirring the fleecy curtains and blowing across the tasteful bouquet which Katy had arranged; but Katy was too wretched to care for her surroundings. It was the first time Wilford had ever spoken to her in just this way, and his manner hurt her more than his words, making her feel as if she were an ignorant, ill-bred creature, whom he had raised to a position she did not know how to fill. It was cruel thus to repay her attempts to please, and so, perhaps, Wilford thought, as with folded arms he sat looking at her weeping so bitterly upon the sofa; but he was too indignant to make any concession then, and he suffered her to weep in silence until he remembered that his mother had requested him to bring her round that evening, as they were expecting a few of Juno’s friends, and among them Sybil Grandon. If Katy went he wished her to look her best, and he unbent so far as to try to check her tears. But Katy could not stop, and she wept so passionately that Wilford’s anger subsided, leaving only tenderness and pity for the wife he soothed and caressed, until the sobbing ceased, and Katy lay passively in his arms, her face so white, and the dark rings about her eyes showing so distinctly that Wilford did not press her when she declined his mother’s invitation. He could go, she said, urging so many reasons why he should that, for the first time since their marriage, he left her alone, and went where Sybil Grandon smiled her sunniest smile, and put forth her most persuasive powers to keep him at her side, expressing so much regret that he did not bring “his charming little wife, who completely won her heart, she was so child-like and simple-hearted, laughing so merrily when she discovered the flour on her hair, but not seeming to mind it in the least. Really, she did not see how it happened that he was fortunate enough to win such a domestic treasure. Where did he find her?”

If Sybil Grandon meant this to be complimentary, it was not received as such. Wilford, almost grating his teeth with vexation as he listened to it, and feeling doubly mortified with Katy, whom he found waiting for him, when at a late hour he left the society of Sybil Grandon and repaired to his home.