Usually Nancy was cut to the quick by the malice of these speeches, but she could afford not to be angry with words which had no power to back them. There was the threat of the future indeed,—her parole hung upon the precarious life of the old dowager,—but a future threat was better than a present one. The bride was sufficiently grateful for her good fortune of the moment not to worry over her stepmother's brandished cudgel.
And for once the cudgel had been brandished more from habit than from active spite. Nancy's stepmother, in fact, had abundant reason to be content, for the old t'ai-t'ai out of her own lips had suggested a plan her daughter had been revolving in her mind, the purchase of a Chinese wife for Ming-te. She had half promised the youth a solace for his ill-sorted marriage, but it was a difficult subject to broach so soon after his wedding. Nancy might be obstinate and make trouble; the dowager, in a contrary mood, might block it. Herrick's widow was eager to inflict on the daughter the jealousy she had suffered from the father's roving desires; she planned further to help this concubine into Nancy's place till the real wife should become little better than a servant. And now, wonderfully enough, the old t'ai-t'ai, who had to be led so warily like a balky mule into every project, had blessed the scheme by proposing it from her own mouth. She was, in fact, saving her daughter much strain by breaking it to Nancy.
"I am borrowing you, heart and body, from your husband," she said; "we can quickly find a substitute for you."
"A substitute?" asked Nancy.
"Yes, a substitute to take your place by his side. If I steal you, it is only fair that he should be given another wife in your place."
"Then I don't have to go back to him?" inquired the girl with hope in her voice.
The old lady smiled.
"That was an unguarded question," she said. "I fear you are not properly disturbed at dividing your husband's affections with another. No, my child, while I live I think you will not have to go back to him. You must pray for me daily to the god of long life, for after I die—ah, we can't discuss that now. But don't you mind another bride for your husband?"
"I know that I am an unworthy match for your grandson."
"Pooh! You know nothing of the sort; don't trouble to speak in this grand manner to me. I didn't make my grandson and I am very humble about taking credit for his amiable qualities. If you had been a worthy match for Ming-te then you would never have been worthy to entertain me in my dotage. But you are still his wife and you need not efface yourself from this privilege. The new woman, whoever she may be, will be your servant as well as his and you must teach her to mind you from the first. These jades are often headstrong and they hide many a pleasant ambition under their black hair."