Was It Right to Forgive? A Domestic Romance

“Unfortunately, Harry knew her, and I have – ”

“Adriana, let me tell you one thing, a wise woman does not trouble herself about her husband’s private friends. Harry is kind to you. He keeps his home handsomely. He is seen at your side both in church and society, and it is quite possible to ask too much from a good husband. Harry is young yet – too young to have so many obligations and cares as he has.”

“I think you mistake me, mother. Have I made a complaint of Harry? Not one. I was only going to 269 tell you that the girl I spoke of has been genuinely reformed and has joined the Salvation Army.”

“I cannot believe in such reformations. I thought it was of Harry you had good news to tell.”

“The girl came to see me at our house, and as Harry came in while she was present, she told him about her conversation; and the circumstances have had a great influence upon him. I do not think Harry will err in that respect again.” But Adriana spoke coldly, and felt unable to enter into details; Mrs. Filmer’s face was so unresponsive and even angry.

“The girl came to your house! What an impertinence! And you received her and allowed her to talk about her – conversion! I am simply amazed at you, Adriana! And you think Harry will err no more? You poor deluded woman! The girl was probably hunting Harry up. I have no doubt she considers her visit to you a most excellent joke. Did you see no look of understanding between Harry and this converted young woman?”

“I left them alone to converse.”

“Excuse me, Adriana, but I cannot comprehend such romantic puddling folly – such quixotic generosity! It was wrong, both for Harry and for yourself.”

“I am sure it was not wrong, mother. I know that Harry was greatly moved by the girl’s experience. I can trust Harry for the future. With God’s help he is going to be a very different man. He told me so this morning. I believed him. And I did hope you would be glad to hear it.”

“Of course I am glad. If he keeps his intentions it will be a good thing – but men never do.”

“If they trust to themselves, they fail, of course; but Harry knows better than that.”

“I only hope he will not grow too good. One saint in the family is sufficient;” and with a smile which did not quite take away the sting of the mock compliment, Mrs. Filmer put Adriana – who had risen – back into her chair, saying:

“You must not go yet, Adriana. I want to consult you about Rose. Her affairs seem to be in a very bad way. We will waive all discussion of the causes for this condition at present, and just consider what is best to be done.”

“Antony will return for one word of contrition.”

“But if Rose will not say that word?”

“She ought to say it.”

“Never mind the ‘ought.’ We have to work with events as they are. Now, she is too much alone. I am afraid of solitude for her. She will be in danger of flying for comfort or oblivion, where it is destruction to go. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes. But ‘yes’ does not mend matters. She says she has not been out of her house for a month. That will not do. She must have the world round her. She must go to church. To go to church regularly will keep the world her friend; and I will see that she performs that duty. Can you not help me in other matters?”

“Rose has not spoken to me since – the day that her baby died. I do not think she will speak to me. I will do anything I can. What do you propose?”

“I want her to open her house – to give a few quiet receptions or dinners – such events as are quite proper in her circumstances. Of course I shall be with her, and if you could get Miss Alida Van Hoosen to come to her initial dinner, it would give the stamp necessary 271 for their respectability. Of course, you and Harry will be there.”

“Mother, I do not believe Rose will ask us; but if she does, we will overlook the past.”

“For heaven’s sake, do not talk about ‘overlooking’ things. Take up life where it was pleasantly dropped, and bury the interval. Will you get Miss Alida’s promise to endorse Rose?”

“I will ask for it. She is a very determined woman, and Rose has been obtrusively rude to her.”

“None of you seems to have understood Rose, or to have remembered how broken-hearted she was about baby’s death. Something may be excused on that account, I think. Will you go now and see Miss Alida? I should like to know who I can depend upon.”

Then Adriana went. The duty set her was not a pleasant one, especially as Mrs. Filmer was certain she ought to succeed in it. At this crisis she found it easy to recollect the tie of blood, and to expect from Miss Van Hoosen as a right what Adriana was doubtful of obtaining even as a favor.

She found Miss Alida in, but dressed ready for her drive, and in a radiantly good-natured mood. So Adriana, hoping everything from a woman so cheerful and affectionate, said at once:

“Cousin Alida, just give me five minutes, will you?”

“Ten, twenty, sixty, my dear, if you want them.”

“I have just left Mrs. Filmer.”

“Has she made you feel like a flayed woman in a furze bush?”

“She was very nice to me. She is wretched about Rose.”

“I should think she ought to be.”

“I can see that she fears Rose is – ”

“Drinking too much. Don’t mince the words, Yanna. They are ugly enough to make one hate the sin they describe.”

“Her mother thinks she is too solitary. She is going to make her go to church, and she hopes that you will stand by her in society.”

“I will do nothing of the kind.”

“Dear cousin, if she has a quiet little dinner party, and her mother and Harry and I are present, I am sure you will also go.”

“No! I shall not!”

“She is such a foolish, spoiled woman; it is not worth your while remembering her rudeness to you.”

“I care nothing about her rudeness to me. It is her treatment of Antony I resent. I shall not countenance her in any way until she confesses her sin to her husband, and he forgives her. If Antony can forgive her, I suppose I may try and endure her.”

“Dear cousin – ”

“Nonsense, Yanna! You know me well enough to understand that having made up my mind on this subject, I shall not unmake it for any other terms but the ones I have accepted as reasonable and right. Confession, my dear, and then forgiveness. Everything must be done in its proper order. Do you not find me in a remarkably happy temper? Do you not want to know the reason? Harry has been here this morning, and he has told me a very wonderful story. I don’t know when I have been so pleased. I have been saying to myself ever since that there is no change in Our Redeemer. The world outgrows its creeds, but it is still blessedly true that they who ‘seek for Him with all their heart find Him.’ My dear, I feel to-day that there is a God. I always know it, but to-day I feel it. 273 That is the reason I am so happy. I like that woman Hannah Young. I am going this day to the Salvation Army Headquarters to find her. The devil gave her the means to make her mother and sisters happy; and I intend to show her that God can do more, and better, than the devil.”

“Have you no pity for Rose?”

“Not for Rose proud and wicked and unrepentant. When Rose is sorry for her sins, when God forgives her, I shall have no right to be angry. And what do you ask me to do? The worst possible thing for a woman like Rose – surround her with circumstances that enable her to forget what she ought not to forget for one moment. I – will – not – do – it!”

This disappointment did not, however, deter Mrs. Filmer from carrying out her plan; and invitations were duly sent to such of Rose’s old friends as it was supposed would give prestige and dignity to the occasion of her first dinner. Miss Alida sent a curt refusal; and all of the people whose presence was most desired did likewise, with varying politeness. Some “regretted very much,” and others simply “regretted.” Some had “previous engagements,” others did not lay this flattering excuse to the wound of their declining; but the fine dinner was, after all, prepared for guests who had been asked as “secondaries,” and whose absence would not have been regretted. In some way – probably through the kitchen door – the true story of Antony’s absence had been blown about by every wind of gossip; and Rose’s dinners, however she might regard them, were not important affairs to a class of people to whom dinners meant lofty and irreproachable social intercourse.

Mrs. Filmer was greatly humiliated by this failure, 274 but not inclined to abandon her plan; and Rose pretended to be well pleased that she had been “cut by such a dreary crowd of purple and fine linen Pharisees. However,” she said, “as I have opened my house, I intend to fill it. Young men and young women who want to dance will go anywhere, if there is a good floor, with good music and plenty of wines and ices. If I cannot be exclusive, I can at least be popular. If you do not like my company, mamma, you need not endorse it. I shall take no offence at your scruples. As for Harry and his excellent wife, I never will pretend to be glad to see them any more as long as I live. When society declines to accept Mrs. Antony Van Hoosen, you cannot make it accept her, mamma.”

“I am sure, Rose, there are plenty of people in the best society who have been talked about in far worse fashion than you have.”

“That is true enough; but society, now and then, gets very moral and thinks it necessary to have a scapegoat whom it can punish for all the rest. At present it is laying its sins on my head, and driving me out to the wilderness; though it has plenty inside its high fence just as bad as I am, mamma.” Then she was suddenly quiet, as if remembering. “Mamma, when I was in London I saw a picture of myself.” Mrs. Filmer looked at her curiously and inquiringly, and she went on, with a kind of desperate indignation:

“It was in a gallery. It was called The Sacrificial Goat. The poor tormented creature was plodding with weary feet through the quaking wilderness, under the crimson rocks of Edom, and by the shores of the Dead Sea. I could not keep away from that picture. I felt as if I could do anything to give the fainting animal a drink of cold water. No one feels that about me” – and 275 she flung herself among the satin cushions of her sofa and began to sob like a lost child.