Mr. Eldred was disappointed. He had thought more than once that day how he should enjoy it; to have his dream realized, Vida walking with him, to his own meeting, and sitting near, singing as none but she could sing. A spice of vanity mingled with it too. How the people would listen and admire! He felt annoyed and was about to protest, but she looked so like an angel in her soft white dress that he had not the heart to find fault. So he kissed her good-bye, and went his way alone.
She accompanied him the next week; to be a disappointment, however. Her voice joined not in the hymns of praise, she remarking at the close of the meeting:—
"Do you think I could sing in all that discord? It is horrible; it sets every nerve in my body on edge. People always sing that way in prayer-meeting, every one trying to sing, though not knowing one note from another. One old man by me sang five notes below the key; a woman on the other side screamed out as many above; a girl before me had a strong nasal twang. I should think you'd go distracted; and, by the way, what a quantity of common people attend your church!"
Mr. Eldred looked into the fire and repeated half aloud, "The common people heard Him gladly."
As the weeks went on, it became evident to him that he must abandon the pleasant plans he had formed of companionship in his work. He attended meetings alone, made calls alone, and grew weary of apologizing for Vida.
She was willing to attire herself royally and make a round of fashionable calls with him on the first families, but concerning calls on the humbler of the flock she gaily remarked, that she did not purpose turning city missionary. "When ladies called upon her, she would return their calls, that is, if she wished to continue the acquaintance; but as for running all about town hunting out obscure people, that was out of the question."
There was a gay clique in the church who eagerly welcomed the pastor's wife to their circle. They organised a literary society and gave Shakespearian entertainments.
Mrs. Eldred's fine literary taste and musical abilities made her a valuable acquisition. She soon became the centre about which it revolved. Was there a difficult part to be rendered, or a queen of beauty to be represented, Mrs. Eldred was sure to be chosen, and she gave herself with enthusiasm to the absorbing fascination.
Mr. Eldred had united with them in the beginning, but when he discovered that the members of the society were much more interested in getting up costumes than they were in their own mental improvement, and that the whole thing was degenerating into private theatricals, he withdrew, and urged his wife to do the same, but no amount of persuasion could move her in the least; her own will had been her law too long. And this was the being he had thought to mould! It was all so different from the picture he had sketched of these first months of their married life, the picture of sunny, happy days, flowing on with scarce a ripple. Instead, they held long heated discussions that only served to widen the distance between them.
"I beg your pardon," Vida said, in sarcastic tones, during one of these skirmishes, "but I think it would be much more to your profit to attend the meetings of our society than to find fault with me. If you would study Shakespeare more, it might freshen up your sermons somewhat, and lift them from the commonplace. I cannot but think you are degenerating. The first discourse I heard you preach was filled with poetical fancies and literary allusions, and the language was flowery and beautiful. Your preaching seems to have changed of late; last Sabbath, for example, it was mere 'talk' without rhetoric or eloquence; the most ignorant in the church could have understood them. I thought you would receive a call soon to a wealthy church in a large city, but you never will make a reputation if you preach in this style."