Читать книгу The Little Missis - Charlotte Skinner - Страница 7

"Somebody thinks I'm going to be a poor martyr," said Ralph, putting on a very solemn look. Phebe also looked solemn, but her solemnity seemed real.

"I don't know about that," she replied, "it seems to me it is my liberty which is referred to. If your liberty is interred in your house it is still yours."

"Oh, dear, no; everybody knows women always have their own way—they never lose their liberty," and a slight tone of anger was in the voice, which made Phebe look up in surprise. "But there, it is only somebody's stupid joke; not worth thinking about," and he tore the card into shreds, feeling a trifle sorry he had spoken in the way he had done.

Breakfast over, Ralph said: "And now, dearest, I should like a little business talk with you, if you can spare the time. You know we have had so much lovemaking to do we have had no opportunity of talking together about our business."

"'Our business,'" thought Phebe, "that sounds nice."

"The fact is," said Ralph, when the breakfast table had been cleared and they were alone, "I want to enlarge the business. I want to throw this room into the shop, take the house next door, which is to let, and start a grocery trade, too. Then my idea is to have a horse and cart and go into the villages for orders—many of them are growing considerably, and I think I could work up a splendid connection. Later on I should try to sell the whole affair, and start somewhere different from this sleepy place."

"Somewhere different! I should never like to leave Hadley."

"Of course not, women are never ambitious."

"But I am very ambitious, and should like you to have a large business. How could you possibly leave all your public work here? and I could never leave Hadley while my poor old sick father lives."

"We'll not worry about that," said Ralph, fearing he had gone too far. "We need not discuss that for years. I am glad to hear you say you would like me to have a big business; but how, without more capital, am I going to manage it?"

"That certainly is a very difficult question."

There was silence for a minute, and then Ralph, evidently disappointed she had not said more, asked: "Can you not suggest anything?"

"No, I cannot; but if it is God's will He will show you how it can be done."

"God won't do for us what we can do for ourselves," he answered a little impatiently. "I hardly like mentioning it, but haven't you some money in the bank?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Three hundred pounds. It was my mother's money; and the interest has helped to buy my clothes, because father could not afford to give us much pocket-money."

"Couldn't I have that money? Of course, I shall give you pocket-money enough."

"You can have some of it, most certainly."

"Not all?"

"Wouldn't half do?"

Ralph got up from his chair, went to the window, and then said slowly, "Yes, that will do."

"We will go and draw it out next week," said Phebe, "if you like."

"Yes; and of course you had better change the name, had you not? And it will seem more businesslike if you draw the whole of it and then put the half of it back in my name. It will be yours all the same."

"I don't mind," said Phebe, "if that will please you."

"Please me! I'm not a child." Fortunately, just then he was called into the shop.

"Am I selfish?" questioned Phebe anxiously to herself. "Have I done wrong? Ought I to let him have the whole? But I am sure father would be cross if I did."

All that day there was sunshine without, but very little within. Phebe worked hard to make the house more homelike; some rugs were laid on the parlour floor, two arm-chairs established each side the table, ferns arranged in the grate, vases of flowers put on the chimney-piece, pictures hung up, curtains placed at the window—and yet it seemed dreary. But how can there be sunshine in a room when there's a shadow on the spirit?

After tea Ralph said: "I am going to Sunbury to a meeting this evening."

"Oh, I am glad; I shall enjoy that."

"But, dearest, I am sorry to disappoint you. I have promised to walk with old Mr. Cope, and it is too far for you. Besides, if you don't mind, I should like you to attend to the shop a little, just to check bills and take cash, for I am a young man short to-day. Will you?"

"Oh, yes," replied Phebe gaily, trying hard to let the feeling of pride that Ralph thought her capable of doing this conquer the feeling of disappointment. "I shall be delighted to do it for your sake." And after that sweet little speech Ralph kissed her.

The young man who was left in charge of the shop, being of a rather fiery disposition, and having resented somewhat Phebe's advent into the establishment, thought he would take this opportunity of having a little revenge.

"Do you like business, Mrs. Waring?" he asked, when they were alone.

"I hardly know, having had no experience."

"Well, I suppose it is with you as with me, it is all the same whether we like it or not—we have got to do it."

"I don't think the cases are quite parallel," she said, with a smile.

"Oh, I thought they were, for when the governor gave Dick Forbes notice—he left to-day, you know—he said he should not require his services any longer, for when you came you would see after the business when he was away. It must be nice to have a wife to look after things while you are away enjoying yourself."

"Your master is away doing God's business," she replied with dignity, and straightway walked into the parlour.

The dignity all vanished when she laid her head on her hands on the table and had a little cry to herself. Things were all so different from what she had expected, and such a loneliness seemed to have crept into her heart! When she lifted up her tearful face she saw the bunch of pansies quite close to her, and their faces seemed to look into hers and whisper, "Heart's ease!" "What a comfort!" she whispered to herself. "'Heart's ease,' yes, I know where to get it from. I know I feel disappointed, but ought I not to ask: Is Ralph disappointed in me? and is Jesus disappointed in me?"

"What a mean hound I've been!" thought the young shopman, as he caught sight afterwards of her swollen eyes. "It would have served me right if she had boxed my ears. She'll have enough to put up with without me adding to it." And that same night he walked two miles to beg a bunch of roses for her, saying as he gave them to her: "Please forgive me for having been rude to you."

When a king had chosen the design for the gold work of his signet and selected the stone, carefully studying its hue and markings, then came the making of the signet: the gold was put in the fire, and the gem under the lapidary's hammer.