Was It Right to Forgive?, Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr [series like harry potter .txt] 📗

was to defend herself; her second reminded her of the hopelessness of the effort, or at least of its imprudence. Mrs. Filmer was not above the common tactics of talebearers; and she had before accused Adriana of being the informant, when, on the contrary, she had been mercilessly subjugated to information she had no desire either to hear or to discuss.

Therefore, if she told Harry that his mother had come to her with the tale of Cora Mitchin, and Mrs. Filmer had already told him that Adriana had been complaining to her on the same subject, whom was Harry to believe? The presumption was in his mother's favor; but any rate, it put him in the miserable position of deciding between his mother and his wife. And she remembered that on one occasion when she had proved her innocence beyond a doubt, Harry did not appreciate the removal of the doubt; he had worn an air of annoyance and depression for some days afterwards, and had been specially attentive to his mother, as if her conviction required his extra sympathy to atone for it.

So they had a wretched dinner, the only subject on which Harry was inclined to talk being the illness and the return home of his sister. He had caught the tone of Mrs. Filmer, and her commiseration for Rose; and he spoke of her only as "the poor dear girl" and "the sad little girl," while his silence with regard to Antony was one instinct with disapproval and almost anger.

"Mother thinks I had better look for a house," he said. "Rose asked mother to attend to the matter, but she seems to be worn out, and unfit for the work."

"Is it to be furnished or unfurnished?" asked Adriana.

"Furnished, if possible. And it must be very large and handsome. They are going to build, but in the meantime they must rent. Can you not look for what is required, Yanna? Mother came to ask you to help her this morning, but she appears to have had but scant welcome in my house."

"I am not able to endure the fatigue of house-hunting, Harry; and baby is very poorly and cross. He has a high fever to-night."

"Mother told me I would find you unwilling to do anything."

"She did not ask me."

"She had no opportunity. You left the room."

"If she told you so much, Harry, I hope she was honest enough to tell you why I left the room."

"Well, Yanna, if you will listen to idle reports, and then fret mother about them, you cannot expect her to join you in complaints against me and my conduct. She at least trusts me!" Then Harry, with a magnificent air of being wrongly accused, rose; and Adriana saw that he was about to leave the room.

"Harry," she cried, "was that really what mother told you? How could she? How could she?"

"I shall not return until late. Do not wait for me."

And so, with this evil impression--without caring for her explanation--Harry was gone. He had evidently been inspired with a sense of wrong, and he showed it; he had been led to believe that Adriana doubted and complained of him, and he was determined to make her feel that he resented her complaining. And oh! how bitter were the hours she sat alone, pondering the cruel situation in which the wickedness of others had placed her! Nor could she help a feeling of resentment against Rose. In every crisis of her life this girl had interfered to bring her sorrow. "She is my evil genius," she said angrily, "and not only mine, but Antony's also. Poor Antony! He has to suffer like me every wrong and injustice, and yet to hold his peace." And her heart was heavy, and she felt a dark despair and a fretful anger striving with her prudence and affection, and urging her at all risks to set herself clear in Harry's eyes. "But to what purpose?" she asked. "He does not believe--that is, he does not want to believe me. My patience has brought me only injustice; and in vain, in vain, have I washed my hands in innocency."

But youth finds it possible to hope that such dark hours must be followed by day, and after a sleep Adriana thought, "Things will wear themselves right by to-morrow." They did not. It was an unfortunate time for a dispute. Harry was looking for a house for Rose, and was nearly constantly with his mother, and all his sympathies were enlisted for his "poor dear sister." He was working for her comfort, and therefore he loved her; and nothing was in his heart or on his tongue for the following week but Rose, and a house for Rose, and when it was secured, the preparations necessary to make it suitable for her habitation.

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 assisted 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 sturdy, 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 attitude 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