Family life -- Fiction; Farm life -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction
When Holcroft came in to dinner that day the view he had adopted was
confirmed, yet Alida's manner and appearance began to trouble him.
Even to his rather slow perception, she did not seem so happy as she
had been. She did not meet his eye with her old frank, friendly, and
as he had almost hoped, affectionate, expression; she seemed merely
feverishly anxious to do everything and have all as he wished. Instead
of acting with natural ease and saying what was in her mind without
premeditation, a conscious effort was visible and an apparent
solicitude that he should be satisfied. The inevitable result was that
he was more dissatisfied. "She's doing her best for me," he growled, as
he went back to his work, "and it begins to look as if it might wear
her out in time. Confound it! Having everything just so isn't of much
account when a man's heart-hungry. I'd rather have had one of her old
smiles and gone without my dinner. Well, well; how little a man
understands himself or knows the future! The day I married her I was
in mortal dread lest she should care for me too much and want to be
affectionate and all that; and here I am, discontented and moping
because everything has turned out as I then wished. Don't see as I'm
to blame, either. She had no business to grow so pretty. Then she
looked like a ghost, but now when the color comes into her cheeks, and
her blue eyes sparkle, a man would be a stupid clod if he didn't look
with all his eyes and feel his heart a-thumping. That she should
change so wasn't in the bargain; neither was it that she should read
aloud in such sweet tones that a fellow'd like to listen to the
dictionary; nor that she should make the house and yard look as they
never did before, and, strangest of all, open my eyes to the fact that
apple trees bear flowers as well as pippins. I can't even go by a wild
posy in the lane without thinking she'd like it and see in it a sight
more than I once could. I've been taken in, as old Jonathan feared,"
he muttered, following out his fancy with a sort of grim humor. "She
isn't the woman I thought I was marrying at all, and I aint bound by my
agreement--not in my thoughts, anyhow. I'd have been in a nice scrape
if I'd taken my little affidavit not to think of her or look upon her
in any other light than that of housekeeper and butter maker. It's a
scary thing, this getting married with a single eye to business. See
where I am now! Hanged if I don't believe I'm in love with my wife,
and, like a thundering fool, I had to warn her against falling in love
with me! Little need of that, though. She hasn't been taken in, for
I'm the same old chap she married, and I'd be a mighty mean cuss if I
went to her and said, 'Here, I want you to do twice as much, a
hundred-fold as much as you agreed to.' I'd be a fool, too, for she
couldn't do it unless something drew her toward me just as I'm drawn
toward her."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account