Mr. Drummond would have verified Miss Middleton’s opinion that Magdalene was not so unchanged as she believed herself to be.
At his first interview with her after Herbert Cheyne’s return, he could almost have sworn that she was a different woman. 266
Phillis, who spent all her spare time at the White House,—for they both made much of Herbert’s “good angel,” as he still called her jestingly,—was sitting alone with Mrs. Cheyne when Archie was announced.
His old enemy greeted him with a frank smile.
“This is kind of you, Mr. Drummond,” she said, quite warmly. “How I wish my husband were not out, that I could introduce him to you! I have told him how good you have tried to be to me, but that I was ungrateful and repulsed you.”
Archie was shaking hands with Phillis, who seemed a little disturbed at his entrance. He turned around and regarded the beautiful woman with astonishment. Was this really Mrs. Cheyne? Where was the hard, proud droop of the lip, the glance of mingled coldness and hauteur, the polished sarcasm of voice and manner? Her face looked clear and open as a child’s; her eyes were brilliant with happiness.
Magdalene was in one of her brightest moods when she was most truly herself.
“I have met him just now. He stopped and introduced himself. We had quite a long talk outside of Mrs. Williams’s cottage. I called upon him there, you know, but he had good reasons for refusing my visits. Mrs. Cheyne, you must allow me to congratulate you most earnestly. You will own now that Providence has been good to you.”
“I will own that and everything,” returned Magdalene, joyously. “I will own, if you like, that I treated you shamefully, and took a pleasure in tormenting you; and you were so patient,—oh, so patient, Mr. Drummond! I could have called you back sometimes and apologized, but I would not. In my bitter moments I felt it was such a relief to mock at people.”
“Never mind all that. Let bygones be bygones. I wish I could have served you better.” And then, as he changed the subject, and spoke feelingly about the miracle of her husband’s restoration, Mrs. Cheyne looked at him rather wistfully.