The Three Stages of Clarinda Thorbald

by William T. Hamilton

“Of course we shall have to have a clock—a chime clock. One of the kind that strikes different tones for each quarter of an hour. You know the kind I mean,” he assented quickly.

And so they built their castle and fitted it with the things they thought they would love, and they did not know it was all foolish and futile.

They moved into the spot they had selected, and adapted and placed the furniture they had chosen. The divan, for it was upon the divan all their future lives were to be planned, was in the room, and it took up a lot of space just as they thought it would. Behind the divan they placed a tall lamp with a pink shade that sent an even glow over them and threw no shadows, and Clarinda liked the dim light. When the man had gone in the mornings to his place of business, she would cuddle herself on the divan and her mind gloated upon the things about her, and her happiness was complete.

Then her friends came—the bridesmaids, and the others, those who had stood about and been fed, and who drank the wine to excess and had gone unsteadily over the polished floors; they sat upon the divan, and Clarinda thought they desecrated it; they rushed from one tiny room to the other and peered with malicious eyes into the kitchenette; and they smiled among themselves at the tininess of the place, and gave their unerring judgment on its possibilities. Clarinda’s mother soon came, and she turned the things about and bemoaned with her husband the meagerness of the setting and of the furnishings.

Clarinda watched her mother move about the place as she put things as she would have them, and when she was gone Clarinda moved them back again to their original positions. The man laughed and spoke jestingly of her mother’s taste. In her heart her mother pitied her. But the old man was proud of Clarinda and presaged for her all the things he so desired she should have. He did not forget the doleful street, the poorness of the surroundings, and the flimsiness of his first home. His start he remembered was so much poorer than Clarinda’s. Yet he could not forget the pride and the pleasure he had derived from it, and his heart beat with infinite joy then, as Clarinda’s beat now.

Now the round of life was upon them. The man and the maid fell into the swing. The nest was finished, its sides were put together with infinite care. Each twig was intertwined with every other twig, in order that it might be strong and withstand the assaults of wind and weather. The man looked on with pride, and Clarinda was filled with unbounded faith.

Never before had she experienced such pleasure, even in the luxury of her father’s house, as when she sat in the mornings at her own table with her husband, and he at the lower end while the trim little maid brought their breakfast.

Clarinda loved the silver as it stood in front of her, and derived a sensation of sweetness from her surroundings, as she asked whether he would have sugar in his coffee. She knew perfectly what he liked, but there was something wonderful to her to ask each morning with the same anxiety. It pleased her to pour each morning, each cup of coffee, but she did so with perturbation. Always she asked whether it was just right, and always he answered it could not be more perfect. Her heart was filled with apprehension, for it was possible she might make a mistake—it might not be just right.

Each morning at a precise time, the man left the house, and each morning he kissed her goodbye and held her close to his heart. Each morning she went to the door and watched him go down the stairs, then she rushed to the window to watch him wave his hand to her before he disappeared around the corner, and she smiled and was happy.

Then one day in June, just as her wedding had taken place upon a day in June, the day broke as usual, and the sun came up. The early morning breezes fluttered the trees. The usual breakfast had been partaken of. Clarinda had asked the same questions and had received the same replies. The trim little maid had done her duty. Life seemed as happy and as justifiable as ever.