When he saw money coming in faster than he could spend it, piling up at the bank, he felt that the time had come to change their way of living. The house that he had wanted to live in had been in his mind for years. It remained only to get an architect from Chicago and have the plans drawn for the stately mansion of his dreams.
Yes, one other thing—to persuade Mary that she too wanted it.
Mary had another son now—a frail infant in whom her life and thoughts seemed centred. It had been a question whether this child would live, and she still watched it with anxious care. She had not fully recovered her own health after its birth—she was thinner, looked much older. For the first time she was a little careless of her own appearance, thought nothing of her dress, and even her rich hair lost its lustre and sometimes straggled untidily from its heavy knot.
Laurence did not like this change in her—her total absorption in the nursery, her prevailing anxiety, which seemed to him exaggerated. His children had not reached the stage of development necessary to interest his mind. He was fond of them, proud of the two sturdy older ones, and concerned about the sickly youngest. But he could not see why Mary couldn't take a little interest in life outside them. It was partly his desire to give her another interest, something that she could share with him, that made him broach the subject of the house. He wanted a more social life—something that they could join in, beside mere parenthood. Magnificence would become Mary, if she only thought so. She was a beautiful and stately woman, in spite of her present neglect of herself, and would be in her proper place at the head of a big establishment. She ought to have more servants, to entertain, to wear rich dresses of silk, to be adorned with jewels. He wanted to see her so—he wanted more amusement, more gaiety. They were both young—why bury themselves in a mere daily round of work and care?
Mary at first opposed his idea, but languidly, from mere lack of interest in it. When he grew warm and petulant, and passionately accused her of not caring for anything that he did or for any of his wishes, she yielded the point without more ado. It was Laurence's money, of course he could do as he liked with it. She thought they were very comfortable as they were, but if he didn't like the house and wanted a bigger one, very well, let it be built. One house or another was much the same to her.
Laurence drove out with her one day to see the site he had selected—on the outskirts of the town, which was however rapidly growing. It was a big pasture, running from the road back to the edge of the lake—a rough piece of ground, thickly overgrown with weeds and with straggling willows under which the cattle gathered. But Laurence already saw it laid out in lawns and shrubbery, framing the great house of brick and stone that should dominate the town. Here would be the stables, there the gardens. There should be a boathouse on the lake, there should be a screen of rapidly-growing trees along the road, a splendid entrance with tall gates, a graveled drive leading to the house.
His face lit up as he eagerly explained it all to Mary, pointing with his whip, holding in the restive horses with a strong hand, turning the light buggy dexterously around the rough prairie hillocks and mud-holes. A bull came out of a group of cattle and looked at them sullenly with lowered head. The horses wheeled and started nervously. But Laurence with the lash of the whip and firm control, forced them to pass directly in front of the menacing animal, and continued his talk. Mary listened, wrapped up in her mantle, agreeing to all his suggestions....
It was a bright autumnal day, clear and crisp, with a strong breeze blowing. Yellow leaves from nut-trees and maples swirled in clouds along the ground and covered the road. Laurence wanted to drive a little further into the country; Mary assented, saying that she must be at home by six o'clock.
"You ought to get out more—even this little drive has done you good, you have some colour," Laurence said, leaning over to kiss her cheek.
She smiled, shut her eyes with pleasure, feeling the rush of the wind as they drove against it.