But her theory was that Jennie had never forgiven him, never in a sense recovered from it. She had welcomed her children in order the more to seal up the truth from others; but she had borne them late, and the birth of the second son, Robert, had doomed her to physical helplessness.
This theory explained to Mathilda every peculiarity of Mrs. Blaydon’s character, every inexplicable episode which had occurred in the house since she had joined them. Jennie had never liked her; perhaps suspected that she knew her secret. Part of Jennie’s satisfaction in having the children was that they would help her to dominate her sister-in-law and the household, in the rôle of mother. As adversaries they had a healthy respect for each other. But Jennie’s sustained firmness of will was less effective than Mathilda’s, because it was less charming and less hidden. Luck was simply against Jennie. It was Mathilda who would win and then (though Blaydon did not know she had thought much about it) they would go to the country. Naturally this would be their first move. It was inevitable because it was the thing that people of their sort were doing, and because automobiles had made it feasible.
As though she felt that she might hint some of this that was in her mind, she broke the silence.
“Speaking of the country, I’ve had my eye for a long time on those tracts in the Errant River hills, where the McNutts have bought.”
Sterling Blaydon slowly took his cigar from his mouth and smiled. Like all men of means he liked to have opportunities to display his foresight presented to him without going out of his way to invite them.
“Well then, you’ve had your eye on what will in all probability be your future home. I’ve been picking up that land right along. I’ve got about three hundred acres of it. Moreover, though the Country Club site committee hasn’t decided officially yet, I know for a fact they are going to take the contiguous property. It’s cheap enough just now, and the club isn’t lavish.”
He was fully satisfied with the glance of admiration Mathilda gave him.
“Why, Sterling,” she said, “how long have you been at that?”
“Since a little while after Hal was born. I got to thinking then this wouldn’t do.”
“Well, it never occurred to me until this year.”