She met Adriana with a worried face, and barely touching the fingers of her outstretched hand, said, "I have a letter this morning, and I think you ought to know about it, Adriana. It concerns your brother. I am sure it has been the most wretched thing for my poor Rose that she ever met the man."
"That statement would be hard to prove," answered Adriana.
"You need not draw yourself up like a tragedy queen because I feel so bitterly the mistake my daughter has made. Rose has been a miserable wife from the first day of her marriage, and there is no use in denying the fact. And if her misery has led her to unwise ways of seeking relief, she is hardly to be blamed. She says, too, that she has never had a day"s health since the birth of her baby. And you know what a stern, unsympathetic man her husband is."
"I know that Antony has a heart of infinite love and forbearance. Few men would have endured what he has borne without a complaint. Rose is unreasonable, petulant, and, in fact, unmanageable. Several people who saw her last summer have told me about her caprices. They can only be accounted for on the supposition that she had been "seeking relief.""
"I have no doubt Antony is as bad as she is."
"Antony is absolutely temperate in all things."
"Antony is, of course, an angel."
"I think he is. Certainly he has had more than mortal patience with and love for a most ungrateful woman."
"All the Van Hoosens are angels; nevertheless, no one can live with them."
"Mr. Filmer is a Van Hoosen, and you have managed to live with him.
Harry is a Van Hoosen, and I find it very delightful to live with Harry."
"Oh, I can tell you that Harry is no saint. I wish you could hear society laughing at the way he deceives you."
"There is nothing for society to laugh at; consequently you are mistaken."
"You blind woman! You poor blind woman! Everybody knows that Harry never stops with you one hour that he can help. He is devoted to that lovely Cora Mitchin."
"Madam! if you came here to insult my husband, I will not listen to you."
"I came here to enlighten the stupidest woman in New York."
"I know all I want to know; and I know nothing wrong of my husband.
There is no happier wife in America than I am. I believe in Harry Filmer. It is beyond your power to shake my faith in him. Good morning, madam."
"Stop one moment. Rose is coming back. We must all, every one connected with Rose, do our best to surround her with proper influences. Miss Alida helped to make the unfortunate marriage, and I shall expect her to countenance and stand by Rose."
"You must tell her so. I am sure she will do all that she conceives to be right for her to do."
"I want you to tell her that she ought, that she must, give a party to welcome Rose back. Indeed, she could get Madame Zabriski to be the hostess if she likes, and she should do so."
"Why should she do so?"
"Madame Zabriski"s favor would silence all the false and ugly reports people have brought from the other side. I look to you, Adriana, to carry this point."
"I prefer not to interfere with Madame Zabriski"s entertainments."
"You owe Rose something."
"I owe Rose nothing but anger for the way she has treated my good brother. Poor Antony! My heart bleeds for him."
"Poor Rose! It is Rose that is to be pitied. But you are an immensely cruel, selfish woman! It used to be Rose here, and Rose there, until you had stolen Rose"s brother. Now you will not even say a word for Rose; though a few words from you might get her into the best society."
"I do not think society is the best thing for Rose, at this time.
Will you kindly excuse me? I hear the nursery bell. My son wants me."
"My son! Yes! One day some woman will take him from you."
"When that day comes, I pray G.o.d that I may have wisdom, and love, and justice enough, not to treat that woman as you have treated me."
"Harry is my son yet."
"Harry is my husband. And a man shall leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave to his wife. That is the Word of G.o.d."
"I shall tell Harry of your temper! I shall!"--but she found herself talking to an empty room, and she picked up her fallen gloves and went away.
It was evident, however, when Harry returned to his home in the evening, that she had told Harry many things that had annoyed him. He was silent, unresponsive, and had an air of injury or offence. Adriana was only too familiar with this particular mood. Her first thought 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.