Was It Right to Forgive? Part 27

As the time approached for the arrival of the steamer, it was a continual sending and looking for telegrams. Mrs. Filmer was in a fever of expectation. She spent the last day in doubting, fearing and watching, until she was almost hysterical. That she had a husband who ought at such times to be her stay did not seem to enter her mind; and Harry was kept at his mother's side, or sent off to the dock or the shipping office, continually.

"The steamer is expected to be at her dock about ten o'clock, and you had better be at Rose's house to welcome her there," said Harry, as he took his early and hurried breakfast, and kept every one fidgety by his haste.

"I cannot do that and do my duty to my own house and child, Harry. The doctor will not call to see baby until eleven."

"The doctor and the nurse are surely enough for one morning. I shall feel it to be a great slight to Rose if you are not there to welcome her."

"Very well, if you wish it, I will leave baby and go to Rose."

"And do try and be kind and sympathetic, and let the dear girl feel that she is welcome home again."

"I shall not fail, Harry."

Then he came back and kissed her; and she smiled with a sad pleasure as she took her way to the nursery, and went over and over to the woman in authority there the symptoms to be detailed and the questions to be asked when the physician arrived.

Then she dressed herself with care, and drove to the house which had been prepared for Mrs. Antony Van Hoosen. It was large and in a fashionable locality, and there were fires in all the splendid rooms, and a full staff of servants in possession. Adriana disturbed their elaborate breakfast, and they were inclined at first to be impertinent and injured. But her manner soon convinced them of her authority, and she occupied the waiting hours in altering this cushion, and that picture, and in trying to give an air of home to mere upholstery and bric-a-brac.

She expected the travelers by noon, but some delay occurred, and it was two o'clock when they came up the silent Sabbath street, with carriages and express wagons, and a certain clatter and _eclat_ which brought every one, far and near, to their windows. Antony was the first to alight, though Harry immediately followed. Harry a.s.sisted his mother, Antony took Rose on his arm and tenderly helped her up the low, broad steps. They were both greatly changed; Antony looked ten years older, and also as if grief, and not age, had robbed him of his youth. Rose was still beautiful, but her face had lost its childlikeness, and gained something more dominant. She was thin and restless; but quite the woman of the world. As soon as Antony had placed her on a sofa he went back rapidly to a third carriage, and took from the arms of a French nurse within it a little bundle of white silk and swan's-down.

His gentleness and care, his encircling arms, his face bent with such infinite love, made Adriana's eyes fill with tears. She went to meet him, and, with inexpressible pride, he withdrew the veil that covered the small face. "Oh, what a lovely child!" This was the exclamation from every one present. Indeed, the babe was exquisitely beautiful, as it lay smiling in Antony's arms, dimpled and rosy, with large blue eyes full of heavenly memories, and soft little rings of golden curls, lying like sunshine on its brow. Mrs. Filmer cried over the beauty of the infant, and Harry kissed it again and again; and Adriana felt her heart swell with tenderness. And while they were all doing homage to the infant, Mr. Filmer came in; and he let slip all his acquired restraints, and forgot every other consideration in the child. He would have it in his arms. He would kiss its tiny hands and its rosy mouth, and he said it was "the loveliest image of humanity he had ever seen!"

And in spite of herself, all this enthusiasm depressed Adriana. Her own child had never been much noticed, she thought even Harry had given Rose's baby more admiration than he had given his own. To be sure, little Harry was not lovely, as little Emma was lovely; but Harry was a boy, and also he had in his st.u.r.dy, large-limbed babyhood more resemblance to the Van Hoosens than to the more refined Filmers.

Being a mother and a woman, she could not avoid feeling these things; but having a nature thoroughly just and loving, she speedily put down all thoughts that were not unselfish and worthy to be entertained.

Rose's att.i.tude also pained her. She was indifferent and even proud, and she seemed to take a pleasure in snubbing Antony before her family. So Adriana made her adieus as quickly as possible, and hastened back to her child; for he was just then cutting his teeth at the peril of his life. Never had the little one been so precious to her. She did not permit her lips to utter a complaint, but there was a great unspoken sense of injustice at her heart; and she was hardly comforted by Harry's return to dinner in high good temper; for he could talk of nothing but Rose, and Rose's baby, and the beautiful presents she had brought for every one.

This was but the beginning of a life which did not promise anything but a constant trial of patience to Adriana; for Rose had that power which some women possess of engaging every man they know to do them service. "There is only Harry that can help me in arranging my social affairs," she said. "Antony employs his whole time in nursing me and the baby. Sometimes I wish for a reasonable husband, such as you are, Harry. How Yanna must enjoy being left to herself sometimes!" she cried; and then, with a cunning little laugh, "Mamma tells me you are just as naughty as ever! For shame, sir!" And Harry laughed back, not unpleasantly; and then he offered to help his sister in any way he could.

"Mamma says that Yanna refused to ask that old maid to get me into her set, but I would not be in her set for anything. It is too stupid, and it is proper beyond endurance. We want something Frenchy and funny, and just a little rapid; nothing wrong, of course, Harry, the proper road; only a gallop, and not a crawl, on it."

On these lines dinner followed dinner, and dance followed dance; and pretty Mrs. Van Hoosen became the leader in the set her ambitions leaned towards. The giddiest girls, the young sporting men equally frivolous, who lived only to have what they called "a good time,"

gathered round her. To such entertainments it was the merest form to ask Adriana, and as her health was delicate, she had a suitable excuse without bringing her principles forward to be made a matter of mirth.

But with Antony it was different.

"It is a long watch, and a weary one, for I am on guard day and night, Yanna," he said to his sister one afternoon. They had met in a fashionable store, where Rose was shopping; and standing a little apart, it had been possible to answer thus Adriana's query, "Why do you not come to see me, Antony?"

"Why do you permit----"

"Ask me no questions, Yanna. A doctor cannot prevent symptoms, he can only watch for them, and be ready to fight danger when he sees it. I am in that position, hour after hour. That is all."

"But it is misery for you."

"Yes; but I am watching for the soul of one I love better than myself."

"How long is it to last?"

"G.o.d knows; to the end of my life, if needs be."

Then Rose called Yanna sharply, and both went to her side. "I am coming to see you to-morrow, Yanna," she said. "I have something to tell you, dear," and she spoke with the old bewitching smile; and Yanna answered:

"Do come, Rose. You have never yet seen my baby."

Then at a word Rose turned to her purchases, and apparently forgot both her husband and her sister-in-law. Adriana had no heart to buy what she had come to buy. She pa.s.sed out into the cold, dirty street, and drove back at once to her home.

It was fully two weeks before Rose remembered her promise; then she came suddenly one morning when Harry had gone away "queer" and the baby was suffering and cross, and the whole house a little affected by the tone of the heads of it. Rose was also cross, though she was sumptuously clothed in green velvet and golden beaver. She looked rather contemptuously round Adriana's parlor. "I wonder you put up with this house, Yanna," she said. "Harry ought to be ashamed of himself."

"I am very well pleased with my house, Rose; and very happy in it. You have grown used to palaces abroad. And Antony is so much richer than Harry."

"Harry could do better than he does. I do not understand how you endure his behavior."

"Rose, if you love me, say nothing wrong of Harry."

"He behaves too badly for anything. Mamma says the money he spends is dreadful! How do you bear it? I am sorry for you!"

"I am not the only one who has to bear. Constantly, I feel sorry for Antony."

"What do you mean? What has Antony told you? At least Antony is true as gold to me. I would not suffer a husband like Harry. I would divorce him. Why, Cora----"

"Rose! You must cease at once, or I must leave you. You have nothing to do with my husband."

"He is my brother, and the whole town talks of him."

Then Yanna left her sister-in-law, and in a few minutes she heard her carriage go clattering up the street; but she sat still and tearless in the little low chair which stood by the nursery fire. Her boy was taking a drive with his nurse, and she was quite alone in the room sacred to his innocent life. She kept the anger in her heart behind her closed lips, but she reflected that patience might cease to be a virtue; and that the time had come to demand from Harry some explanation of the rumors and accusations that had reached her.

"Mr. Van Hoosen is here, ma'am, and wishes to see you," said a servant.

Adriana thought of her brother with a sense of comfort. She felt that she could open her heart to him. But it was not Antony, it was Antony's father who came towards her with outstretched hands, and a blessing that fell like rain upon her hot heart.

"G.o.d has sent you, father," she said solemnly; "for I am in a strait, in such a strait as no one but you can help me out of." Then she told him all her sorrow; and it was evident to Peter that the sting of her grief was her husband's frailty. "If Harry were only good!" she cried despairingly. "I could bear the loss of his love."

"But, Yanna, my dearest one! what man is good? Was any one ever exempt from sin but the Son of the Virgin?"

"Oh, father!" she cried pa.s.sionately, "will you be like the rest of the world, and take a man's view of this question, just because you are a man?"

"My dear one, neither must you take a woman's view just because you are a woman. The common law and the social law may regard s.e.x; the commands of G.o.d are issued to man and woman alike; though our merciful Creator, no doubt, will judge us according to our circ.u.mstances and our temptations."

"If Harry wrongs me, or I wrong Harry, the sin is the same against G.o.d."

"It is. But it is not the same against each other. Harry could never wrong you as you could wrong Harry."

"Oh, father! How can you say such a thing?"

"Think a moment. The infidelity of a husband injures a wife's good name far less than the infidelity of a wife injures her husband's good name. In one case the wife is only visited by the pity of her acquaintances, in the other case the husband is an object of derision; yes; in every age the world has thought the deceived husband worthy to be derided and sneered at. Socially then your sin would hurt Harry worse than his sin could hurt you. Between a man and his Maker, and a woman and her Maker, the cases are to judge; but between a man and his wife infidelity to marriage vows is not as hard on the wife as it is on the husband. I am speaking now, Yanna, as the sin affects daily life."

"Oh, what must I do? What must I do?"

"You must be patient and forgiving. If the Holy One, in whose sight heaven itself is impure, can bear with Harry, can you not also bear?

Have you fulfilled the seventy-and-seven times given for a brother's forbearance, and was there any limit given for a wife's forbearance?

Has Harry yet done a wrong that your pardon cannot reach? Are you more strict to mark his offences than his Maker is? To be sure, you are blameless where Harry is guilty, but, oh, Yanna! is chast.i.ty the only conjugal virtue? Where are charity, patience, sweet temper, cheerfulness? In these pleasant home virtues have you never failed? My dear one, there is an egotism of wifely sorrow that drives a man to sin. Your mother made me unhappy very often with just such jealous affection."