“Bessie Ware?” repeated Aunt Nancy, in bewilderment; then, as the recollection of Bessie's confessions flashed into her mind, she stiffened herself up, and answered severely: “No, sir, she does not!”
“The idea of his refusing to give her her husband's name!” she thought indignantly.
“Why, John!” exclaimed Bessie, over the old lady's shoulder.
Aunt Nancy gave a cry of delight. She would at any time have welcomed John rapturously; but his coming now made her twice glad. Of course he and Bessie would make it all up.
The exuberance of her welcome covered, at first, the wife's deficiency. But when the excitement was over, and they had gone into the house, Bessie's coldness and embarrassment became evident.
“I am very much surprised to see you here,” she said, when her husband [pg 512] looked at her. She did not pretend to be glad.
“Are you sorry?” he asked, with a laugh.
“I am too much astonished to be anything else,” she replied quietly. “What made you come?”
John Maynard was disappointed and mortified. That for years he had met his wife's affectionate advances as coldly he did not seem aware. Other things had occupied his thoughts. He did not recollect, as he had not noticed at the time, that her manner was now just what it had long been.
Supper was over, eaten in an absent way by the husband, who glanced every moment at his wife. He found her very lovely, though different enough from the glad, girlish bride who had once brightened this humble room for him. He could not understand her. Had she no recollection of those days?