‘My strength he weakened in the way,
My days of life he shorten-ed.’
This is not the usual sense in which the words are used, but it just comes to that. You will know by yourself, Mrs Ogilvy. You were widowed young.”
“I have never taken myself to be a rule for other folk,” she said.
“Well, you don’t do that; but still how are you to judge of other folk’s feelings but according to what you feel yourself?”
The lady made no reply. No, she would not help him! if he had any ridiculous thing to say to her, he should muddle through it the best way he could. She would not hold out a little finger to help him up to dry land.
“Well,” he said, after a pause, with a little sigh, “to return to Susie. She’s not equal to her present charge, not equal to it at all. Three big boys on her hands, and the two little ones, not to count all the family correspondence with the others in India and Australia, and all that. There is a great deal of care connected with a large family that people never think of.” He paused for sympathy, but it was not a point upon which his present listener could speak: he went on with a slight and momentary feeling that she was selfish not to have entered into this trouble, notwithstanding that it was so different from her own. “And these growing laddies want a firm hand over them—they want authority—not just a sister that they can tease and fleech—— I maybe ought from the first,” he said, slowly and tentatively, “to have taken the burden more upon myself.”
“It would have left less burden upon Susie; but I think for my part she is quite equal to it,” Mrs Ogilvy said.
When a man condescends to blame himself, he expects as his natural due that he should be reassured. Mr Logan felt that his old friend and parishioner, to whom he had come half for sympathy, half for encouragement, was not nearly so sympathetic a person as he thought.
“I see we’ll not agree in that; and I am sure I hope you’re the one that is in the right. Well,” he said, getting up slowly, “I’m afraid I must be going. This is a long walk for me at this hour of the night; and they’ll be waiting for me at home.”
“You’ll let me know,” Mrs Ogilvy said, as she walked with him along the little platform round the plot of grass. “You’ll let me know—when things have gone further.”