"
"And so do I," answered Maude, looking round her bed-chamber. "If mamma
fancies she's going to inflict herself upon us for good she's mistaken.
She and I might quarrel, perhaps; for I know she'd try to control me.
Val, what are we to do in this small house?"
"The best we can. We have made the bargain, you know, and taken
possession now."
"You are laughing. I declare I think you are glad it has turned out what
it is!"
"I am not sorry," he avowed. "You'll let me cater for you another time,
Maude."
She put up her face to be kissed. "Don't be angry with me. It is our
home-coming."
"Angry!" he repeated. "I have never shown anger to you yet, Maude. Never
a woman had a more indulgent husband than you shall have in me."
"You don't say a loving one, Val!"
"And a loving one also: if you will only let me be so."
"What do you mean?"
"Love requires love in return. We shall be happy, I am sure, if you so
will it. Only let us pull together; one mind, one interest. Here's your
maid. I wonder where my dressing room is?"
And thus they entered on what remained of the London season. The
newspapers announced the arrival of Lord and Lady Hartledon, and Maude
read it aloud to her husband. She might have retained peace longer,
however, had that announcement not gone forth to the four corners of the
land.
"Only let us pull together!" A very few days indeed sufficed to dissipate
that illusion.
Pages:
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299