Imprudence Part 21

But the old lady was not encouraging.

"You won't succeed, Edward. It's like planting a bulb the wrong way in the soil; it grows against nature downwards, curves about, and works its way to the surface, crooked. Prudence will have to grow to you; you can't go backwards."

He reddened and laughed a little constrainedly.

"I feel as young as I did at twenty," he said. "Prudence will help to rejuvenate me. I refuse to be discouraged."

He crossed to the tea-table, poured the girl out a cup of tea, and brought it to her.

"We've had a tiring journey," he said. "I expect you'll be glad to go to your room and rest. There's a family gathering to-night--in your honour." He smiled down into the startled upraised eyes, and added: "Just my brother and his wife. You'll find Mrs Henry amusing. She's very eager to meet you."

"Rose always gushes over new acquaintances," Mrs Morgan interposed.

"She is making plans for Prudence's entertainment, although I told her that Prudence was coming for the purpose of making our acquaintance, and might prefer to avoid festivities. I think she might have waited to consult her wishes."

"Oh!" cried Prudence, with a ring of pleasurable excitement in her tones. "But that's awfully kind of her."

"You see," Mr Morgan said, enjoying the sight of her pleasure, and feeling grateful to his sister-in-law for her forethought, "the idea is not amiss. We are out for amus.e.m.e.nt and agreeable to anything that offers. Rose's plan is excellent."

"Rose is glad of any excuse for gaiety," Mrs Morgan said. "It is ridiculous for a woman of her age, with two big boys, to amuse herself in the undignified manner in which she does. There is to be a dance next week. She says it will introduce Prudence to the neighbourhood.

In reality it is an excuse for indulging in a form of exercise which she has outgrown."

"Do you enjoy dancing, Prudence?" Mr Morgan asked.

Her sparkling eyes answered him.

"Oh! yes," she murmured eagerly, and was conscious from the expression on Mrs Morgan's face, of giving offence. "I've never been to a dance-- a real dance in my life," she added.

"Too much thought is given to amus.e.m.e.nt nowadays," Mrs Morgan observed.

"When I was a girl we seldom went to evening parties. Late hours rob young people of their freshness, and these modern dances are very vulgar. Edward dislikes dancing."

"Oh! once in a way I can put up with that sort of thing," he interposed quickly. "If Prudence enjoys it, I expect I shall get some pleasure out of the evening."

Prudence gave him a grateful look, and, in reward for his consideration, remarked:

"It's fortunate that I brought my pearls. It's such a splendid opportunity for wearing them. You didn't prepare me for these festivities."

"Upon my word," he returned, laughing, "I never gave it a thought." He became aware of his mother's silence, her tight-lipped disapproval, and turned the subject diplomatically. "There's a busy time ahead for you.

We've quite a lot of things calling for your attention. And my mother is looking forward to showing you over the house, and letting you into the inner mysteries. She is quite a wonderful housewife."

"Prudence is probably not domesticated," Mrs Morgan said. "Girls show no interest in their homes nowadays. Things are left to servants."

"I've never had much chance," Prudence explained apologetically. "You see, I am the youngest of six daughters. But I'd like to learn."

Mr Morgan considered her gentle submissiveness very sweet. He was surprised at his mother's lack of response to this softly-voiced desire; for himself, he felt a strong temptation to kiss the pretty timid face of the speaker, but his natural shyness restrained him from obeying this impulse.

"Six woman are too many in one household," Mrs Morgan vouchsafed.

"Some of you ought to have married."

"One of us has," Prudence answered.

"And another is going to," Mr Morgan put in, with a tentative smile at his fiancee. She laughed softly.

"It suggests the rhyme of the ten little n.i.g.g.e.r boys," she said. "Six women in one house; one of them married, and then there were five."

Later, when Prudence had gone upstairs to her room, Mrs Morgan voiced her opinion of her to her son in a single expressive phrase.

"I am afraid, Edward, that your choice has fallen on a rather frivolous girl."

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

Alone in the s.p.a.cious bedroom allotted to her, Prudence spent the rest time allowed her before dinner in the indulgence of her favourite occupation, leaning from the window, lost in a maze of thought. It struck her very forcibly with not the slightest intimation of doubt that six women in a household were less a.s.sertively too many than two women-- two women with conflicting interests and equal authority. She determined that she would not consent to live with a mother-in-law. It was very plain to her that in the event of Mrs Morgan sharing their home, the combined wills of mother and son would force her inevitably to regulate her life on the lines which habit and tradition inclined them naturally to follow. She did not aspire to excel as a housewife; nor did she wish to avoid late hours and unwholesome excitement, and develop a horror of draughts and a cautious regard for her digestion. Mr Morgan was obliged to live simply. His diet consisted mainly, it seemed to Prudence, of boiled mutton and milk puddings. Mrs Morgan had impressed these important details on her in the drawing-room while she drank her tea. Any departure from this rigorous self-denial was followed by tribulation. And invariably he drank a gla.s.s of hot water the last thing before retiring.

Old Mrs Morgan partook of hot water also. She proposed that Prudence should adopt this excellent custom.

"It is so good for every one," she had explained to Prudence's immense embarra.s.sment. "It flushes the kidneys."

Recalling this amazing statement in the solitude of her room, Prudence was moved to quiet mirth.

"A kidney bath," she reflected with a flash of malicious humour at Mrs Morgan's expense, "before bedtime. Excellent practice! I must certainly introduce Bobby to the beverage. We'll call it K.B. I suppose I'm expected to dine off boiled mutton every night, and wash it down with K.B. What a prospect! I wonder whether his mother suspects that when he is away from home Edward strengthens his nightly tonic with whisky."

Prudence lingered at the open window until the first gong, booming through the house, roused her from her meditations to the disquieting realisation that she must dress and go down and face a resumption of these surprisingly intimate confidences. Mrs Morgan had given her to understand that she was to be fully informed in everything relating to Edward's well-being and comfort. The first duty of a wife, indeed the duty which embraced all others, consisted in having always in mind a regard for her husband's wishes and care for his health and happiness.

"I fail to see where I come in," Prudence thought. "Presumably my wishes don't count."

Mr Morgan was waiting for her alone in the drawing-room when she descended. He came forward quickly at sight of her and took her in his arms and kissed her gently.

"I want to thank you," he said, "while I have the opportunity, for your sweetness and patience. My mother has coddled me so long; she loves doing it; and I let her because--well, because she is my mother. But don't be alarmed into believing I am the faddist she would make me appear. You will find, when we are married, it is I who will do the thinking for both. Don't worry your pretty head with trying to absorb these ideas. They amuse her; we need not distress ourselves about them."

Prudence looked up at him with a smile in her wide blue eyes.

"Have I really to see to the airing of your flannels before you change?"

she asked.

He laughed with her.

"There is an airing cupboard. I don't think you need bother. But I believe she does."

"You really are a rea.s.suring person," she said, and held up her face to him to be kissed.

"You are crumpling your shirt, Edward," Mrs Morgan said, entering the room at the moment, a commanding figure in black silk and fine old lace, with a critical eye on their grouping and an absence of sympathy in her look.

Prudence moved away quickly with the feeling that she had been rebuked.

The Henry Morgans arrived exactly five minutes in advance of dinner, and were received with restrained cordiality, and duly presented to Prudence. Mrs Henry, a bright little woman in the middle thirties, with a gay audacity of manner and a ready infectious laugh, took Prudence by the shoulders and kissed her effusively. Then she held her off at arm's length and scrutinised her closely.

"It is absurd," she remarked, her amused eyes on the girl's blushing face; "you'll take precedence of me. You're the senior partner, you know. We really ought to change husbands."

"Prudence is better suited to a serious-minded husband than you are, Rose, in everything but years," old Mrs Morgan retorted.