Part 119 (1/2)
”Is there any possible reason why aunt Serena, and Mr. Busby and Antoinette, should be asked to come to Southwode? If there is any _reason_ for it, I have no more to say; but I do not see the reason.”
”She is your mother's sister--” Mrs. Mowbray repeated.
”And that fact it is, which puts her so far from me. Just that fact.”
”Maybe it will do her good,” suggested Mrs. Mowbray.
Rotha laughed a short, impatient laugh. ”How should it?” she asked.
”You never can tell how. My dear, it is not good to have breaches in families. Always heal them up, if you can.”
Rotha turned in despair to Mr. Southwode.
”Mrs. Mowbray is right, in principle,” he said. ”I entirely agree with her. The only question is, whether a breach which remains a breach by the will of the offending party alone, ought to be covered over and condoned by the action of the injured party.”
”You must forgive,--” said Mrs. Mowbray.
”Yes; and forgiveness implies a readiness to have the breach bridged over and forgotten. I think it does not command or advise that the offender be treated as if he had repented, so long as he does not repent.”
”I have no doubt Mrs. Busby repents,” said Mrs. Mowbray.
”I have no doubt she is sorry.”
”I know she is,” said Rotha; ”but she would do it again to-morrow.”
”What has she done, after all? My dear, human nature is weak.”
”I know it is,” said Rotha eagerly; ”and if I thought it would do her the least bit of good, as far as I am concerned, I would be quite willing to ask her to Southwode. I do not at all wish to give her what I think she deserves.”
”I am afraid I do,” said Mr. Southwode; ”and that is a disposition not to be indulged. Let us give her the chance of possible good, and ask her, Rotha.”
”Then I must ask her here Monday.”
”I suppose I can stand that.”
There was a little pause.
”Well,” said Rotha, ”if you think it is better, I do not care. It will be a punishment to her,--but perhaps it would be a worse punishment to stay away.”
”Now,” said Mrs. Mowbray, ”there is another thing. Don't you think Rotha ought to wear a veil?”
Mrs. Mowbray was getting mischievous. Her sweet blue eyes looked up at Mr. Southwode with a sparkle in them.
”Why should I wear a veil?” said Rotha.
”It is the custom.”
”But I do not care in the least for custom. It's a nonsensical custom, too.”
”Brides are supposed to want a s.h.i.+eld between them and the world,” Mrs.
Mowbray went on. She loved to tease, yet she never teased Rotha; one reason for which, no doubt, was that Rotha never could be teased. She could laugh at the fun of a suggestion, without at all making it a personal matter. But now her cheeks shewed her not quite unconcerned.