Part 21 (2/2)
”Do not put yourself out of the way, John. There will be no change in the women of today that will affect you. But no doubt they will eventually halve--and better halve--the world's work and honors with men. Do you not think so, John?”
”My dear, I know not; women perhaps may cease to be women; but I am positive that men will continue to be men.”
”I mean that women will do men's work as well as men do it.”
”Nature is an obstinate dame. She offers serious opposition to that result.”
”Well, I was only telling you how far progressive ideas had grown in Hatton town. Women propose to share with men the honors of statecraft and the wealth of trading and manufacturing.”
”Jane, dear, I don't like to hear you talking such nonsense. The mere fact that women _can not fight_ affects all the unhappy equality they aim at; and if it were possible to alter that fact, we should be equalizing _down_ and not up.” Then he looked at his watch and said he must be at the Club very soon.
”Will you remain in the parlor until I return, Jane?” he asked. ”I will come home as quickly as possible.”
”No, John, I find it is better for me to go to sleep early. Indeed, as you are leaving me, I will go to my room now. Good night, dear!”
He said good night but his voice was cold, and his heart anxious and dissatisfied. And after Jane had left the room he sat down again, irresolute and miserable. ”Why should I go to the Club?” he asked himself. ”Why should I care about its small ways and regulations? I have something far more important to think of. I will not go out tonight.”
He sat still thinking for half an hour, then he looked again at his watch and found that it was yet possible to be at the Club in time. So with a great sigh he obeyed that urging of duty, which even in society matters he could not neglect and be at rest.
There was no light in Jane's room when he returned home and he spent the night miserably. Waking he felt as if walking through the valley of the shadows of loss and intolerable wrong. Phantoms created by his own sorrow and fear pressed him hard and dreams from incalculable depths troubled and terrified his soul. In sleep it was no better. He was then the prisoner of darkness, fettered with the bonds of a long night and exiled for a s.p.a.ce from the eternal Providence.
At length, however, the sun rose and John awoke and brought the terror to an end by the calling on One Name and by casting himself on the care and mercy of that One, who is ”a very present help in time of trouble.”
That was all John needed. He did not expect to escape trouble. All he asked was that G.o.d would be to him ”a very present help” in it.
Slowly and thoughtfully he dressed, wondering the while from what depths of awful and forgotten experiences such dreams came. He was yet awestruck and his spirit quailed when he thought of the eternity _behind_ him. Meanwhile his trouble with Jane had partly receded to the background of thought and feeling. He did not expect to see her at his breakfast table. That was now a long-time-ago pleasure and he thought that by dinner-time he would be more able to cope with the circ.u.mstances.
But when he reached the hall the wide door stood open, the morning suns.h.i.+ne flooded the broad white marble steps which led to the entrance and Jane was slowly ascending them. She had a little basket of fruit in her hand, she was most fittingly gowned, and she looked exquisitely lovely. As soon as John saw her, he ran down the steps to meet her, and she put her hand in his and he kissed it. Then they went to the breakfast-table together.
The truce was too sweet to be broken and John took the comfort offered with grat.i.tude. Jane was in her most charming mood, she waited on him as lord and lover of the home, found him the delicacies he liked, and gave with every one that primordial touch of loving and oneness which is the very heaven of marriage. She answered his words of affection with radiant smiles and anon began to talk of the Club balloting. ”Was it really an important meeting, John?” she asked. And to her great surprise John answered, ”It would have been hard to make it more important, Jane.”
”About old Akers! What nonsense!”
”Akers gave us no hesitation. He was elected without a dissenting vote.
Another subject was, however, opened which is of the most vital importance to cotton-spinners.”
”Whatever is to do, John?”
”America is likely to go to war with herself--the cotton-spinning States of the North, against the cotton-growing States of the South.”
”What folly!”
”In a business point, yes, but there is something grander than business in it--an idea that is universally in the soul of man--the idea of freedom.”
”Yes, I have read about that quarrel, but men won't fight if it interferes with their business, with their money-making and spinning.”
”You are wrong, Jane. Men of the Anglo-Saxon race and breeding will fight more stubbornly for an idea than for conquest, injury, or even for some favorite leader. Most nations fight for some personality; the English race and its congeners fight for a principle or an idea. My dear, remember that America fought England for eight years only for her right of representation.”
”How can a war in America hurt us?”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”He ran down the steps to meet her, and she put her hand in his.”]
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