Volume Ii Part 46 (2/2)
”Why not?”
”It may do very well for me, but I think, not so well for you.”
”Why? ? what do you mean? I think it is the only way in the world to bring up children ? the only way fit for rational beings to be guided.”
Fleda smiled, though the faintest indication that lips could give, and shook her head ? ever so little.
”Why do you do that? ? tell me.”
”Because, in my limited experience,” said Fleda, as she pa.s.sed her fingers through the boy's dark locks of hair ? ”in every household where 'moral suasion' has been the law, the children have been the administrators of it. Where is your husband?”
”I have lost him ? years ago” ? said Marion, with a quick expressive glance towards the child. ”I never lost what I at first thought I had, for I never had it. Do you understand?”
Fleda's eyes gave a sufficient answer.
”I am a widow ? these five years ? in all but what the law would require,” Marion went on. ”I have been alone since then ? except my child. He was two years old then; and since then I have lived such a life, Fleda!”
”Why didn't you come home?”
”Couldn't ? the most absolute reason in the world. Think of it! ? Come home! It was as much as I could do to stay there!”
Those sympathizing eyes were enough to make her go on.
”I have wanted everything ? except trouble. I have done everything ? except ask alms. I have learned, Fleda, that death is not the worst form in which distress can come.”
Fleda felt stung, and bent down her head to touch her lips to the brow of little Rolf.
”Death would have been a trifle!” said Marion. ”I mean ? not that _I_ should have wished to leave Rolf alone in the world; but if I had been left ? I mean I would rather wear outside than inside mourning.”
Fleda looked up again, and at her.
”Oh, I was so mistaken, Fleda!” she said, clasping her hands ?
”so mistaken! ? in everything; ? so disappointed ? in all my hopes. And the loss of my fortune was the cause of it all.”
Nay, verily! thought Fleda, but she said nothing; she hung her head again; and Marion, after a pause, went on to question her about an endless string of matters concerning themselves and other people, past doings and present prospects, till little Rolf, soothed by the uninteresting soft murmur of voices, fairly forgot bread and b.u.t.ter and himself in a sound sleep, his head resting upon Fleda.
”Here is one comfort for you, Marion,” she said, looking down at the dark eyelashes which lay on a cheek rosy and healthy as ever seven years old knew; ” he is a beautiful child, and I am sure, a fine one.”
”It is thanks to his beauty that I have ever seen home again,”
said his mother.
Fleda had no heart this evening to speak words that were not necessary; her eyes asked Marion to explain herself.
”He was in Hyde Park one day ? I had a miserable lodging not far from it, and I used to let him go in there, because he must go somewhere, you know ? I couldn't go with him ?”
”Why not?”
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