"I've done my best, but then, you see, mother, I had all he earned to do it with. If I'd had to deal with some men, the house and children would ha' been lost in dirt and rags. But Adam is a real good 'un in his quiet way. Turning up every penny to me, and taking just what I could give him. Never drinking, nor grumbling, nor swearing, though he might have got mad with me many a time. I was always quick, you know, mother, and what I've had to go through has not made me sweeter-tempered. That poor fellow at home has had something to stand, specially these last years."
It will be seen that Margaret Livesey was not wanting in perception. She had a good deal of self-knowledge, and was frank enough in alluding to her own short-comings.
"I am glad Adam has been such a good husband," said Mrs. Allison. "In other ways, I know he wasn't good enough for you. I've blamed myself."
She could not finish her sentence, for Margaret interrupted, "Never blame yourself again about Adam, mother. He's too good all round for me. He's that patient and true, you wouldn't believe. I only wish I were more like him. But I expect I shall be a little spit-fire of a woman to the end o' my days. If I'd nothing to try me, I should make something to be sharp about. It's just in me. As it is, I have the one comfort of thinking that I've a little bit of excuse for being so short-tempered. But Adam does know that I care for him, and would give him the best and last mouthful I had. If I'd my time to bring over again, and knew all that was coming, I should take Adam. The little 'uns too. They just worship their father."
There was much in all this to comfort the invalid, and to confirm her in a resolution she had arrived at after much consideration. So far, she had not revealed her plan to Margaret, though, after regretting her neglect of the Liveseys, she had several times murmured, "I shall make amends. I shall make amends."
Poor Mrs. Allison! Her one thought of wrongdoing was in connection with Margaret, and on this score she was gradually receiving comfort. Things had not turned out so badly, after all, if her daughter could boldly declare that she would not have them otherwise.
Yet, though Mrs. Livesey said so much to cheer and comfort her mother, she did not the less feel that there were many things connected with her daily life which she would fain have altered. It was true that she would not like to part with Adam or any of those small people on whom she bestowed very uncomplimentary names when she was put out. "Little torments," "plagues of my life," "creatures who were always worritting for something," were no uncommon names for Margaret to bestow, together with slaps and other pains and penalties.
Despite such words, she would have liked to send them out as nicely clad as the best, even while she told her mother, with a sort of fierce pride, that the best dressed children in the school chose her Maggie for a companion, because she was "clean and wholesome, and pretty behaved."
Then she would have liked to dress up poor homely-looking Adam, and herself too, though not in the same sort of finery in which her youthful soul once delighted, but in "real good clothes," and to walk out, with him carrying baby, on fine Sunday evenings. Yes, there were many things she longed for, and the non-possession of which gave sharpness to tongue and temper, even whilst she toiled and turned to good account all that came into her hands. She would not tell Mrs. Allison about these daily conflicts.
"Where would be the good?" thought she, and kept silence, though it cost her an effort to do it.