I was a little hurt. There had been a time when He had called me his light-bearer, guiding him out of the darkness and perplexity of a lonely life. The falling off of poetry after marriage has been a sore trial to many a young matron; but few, perhaps, are quite as oversensitive as I was in those days. The first two or three months of our wedded life had been an idyl; then there were no curt speeches, no sarcasms, no disagreements. But now it seemed as if we were always saying the wrong things to each other. What was to be done?
Some gleams of afternoon sunshine were making their way into our little parlour, and lighting up the ancient silver teapot and cream jug which I had brought from my faraway home in the country. Poor relics of peaceful maiden days, I looked at them now With misty eyes, and thought of tea-drinkings with my girl friends, of my grandfather's benevolent face, of the rustle of leaves outside the cottage, and the scent of flowers that drifted in through open windows. And suddenly and unreasonably, I was seized with a longing to return to the old place, and see if I could find any of the old tranquillity lingering there.
But it is not to the past that we should go if we would find peace, for there is never anything gained by running backward. I gave myself a mental shaking, banished the sweet country visions and foolish yearnings, and turned to Ronald with a smile.
"I will be as sanguine as you please," I said, brightly. "Forgive me, dear, if I don't understand these City schemes. I am stupid sometimes, and business matters always puzzle me. But I have often heard Lady Waterville say that Mr. Greystock could help you if he liked, and if you were willing to be helped."
"Ah, that was like Lady Waterville! She used to insinuate that I was not willing to be helped."
"Oh, Ronald, she never insinuated things! And of course I always knew that you were anxious to get on. If Mr. Greystock really means to assist you now, I shall never cease thanking him."
"Of course he means to keep his word. Until to-day he has never made a definite promise."
"Oh, then he has really promised?"
"Yes. It is a pity, Louie, that you call only believe in demonstrative people. William Greystock is one of the most undemonstrative men on earth; he always says less than he means, therefore you never give him credit for any good intentions."
My quick temper rose at these words.