MRS. JOE ON CLERICAL BUMPTIOUSNESS AND MRS. FENTON'S SHOULDERS.
The family of Stormpoint remained abroad until long after Leonard and
his wife were established in the old Morley mansion in Hampton, finally
returning to America without Mark, who remained in England, ostensibly
on business connected with the Great Serpent. He had done nothing to
advance his mother's wishes with regard to Paula, assuming that the lady
had by this time recognized the futility of her hopes, and like the wise
woman he knew her to be, had become reconciled to the inevitable. She
was even wiser than he knew, and a part of her wisdom was to trust to
the future. She would admit defeat when she found herself defeated,
meanwhile acquiescing to all seeming in things as they were, placidly
listening to Paula's confidences as to that celibate sisterhood which
the damsel hoped some day to found, but which, as Mrs. Joe said to
herself, was not founded yet.
Mark had extracted a promise both from his mother and from Paula that
their letters should contain "all the news of all the Claghorns,"
meaning perhaps Mrs. Leonard Claghorn; and when the first letter came
from his mother he opened it eagerly and read: first a great deal of
political advice (at second hand from Mr. Hacket), and toward the end of
the epistle, matter of greater interest.
"As to Leonard" (wrote the lady), "I fear marriage has not improved him.
Natalie makes the mistake of coddling him too much. Her notion of wifely
duty is extravagant. In their house a thousand things are done for
Leonard's comfort, all thought of by his wife, and her eyes follow him
about as though she were constantly on the watch to anticipate his
wants. She is very quiet in manner and seems rather to wish to echo
Leonard's opinions than to have opinions of her own; all of which has
other than a pleasing effect on Leonard. I suppose, too, that he has
arrived at an age (somewhat late in his case) in which the fact of his
own manliness is the most important fact of existence. He has not been
improved by contact with quite another world than that of Hampton, the
world of Adolphe de Fleury, in which he seems to have mingled rather
surprisingly. One would hardly recommend the allurements of Paris in
such companionship to a young theologian. You know the angels in
Paradise fell, though I do not mean to imply that Paris is paradise, or
Leonard an angel, fallen or otherwise; but his engaging innocence is
gone; perhaps it was inevitable. I am sorry to see in its place an undue
amount of the bumptiousness often affected by members of his profession.
It is quite distressing to think that he should degenerate, he who was
so beautiful to look at, so gentle, yet so strong--in short, so
naturally refined--a word, by the way, which I dislike, but it expresses
the idea. He is not so refined as he was; he is less pleasing to the
eye, there is a shadow of something in his face which I do not like--and
I do _not_ like the way with which he looks at Paula.
"There, Mark, I have been long in coming to it--but you are not to
misunderstand me. I don't believe Leonard has a thought which could be
regarded as injurious to Natalie, but I don't think he regards feminine
beauty with the eyes one likes to see. I gave a little dinner a few
evenings since; only the Stanleys, the Fentons, Father Cameril and the
Leonard Claghorns. You remember Mrs. Fenton's style; her shoulders (very
beautiful they are--I say shoulders) too much in evidence for my taste.
Leonard hardly took his eyes off of them. Father Cameril, on the
contrary, hardly knew what to do with his to avoid seeing them, and I
don't know which of the pair made me most angry. I remember when Leonard
would have been oblivious of shoulders.
"He is rather truculent, too, is Mr. Leonard, and fell foul of poor
Father Cameril in a manner which roused even Paula, on the subject of
the Apostolic Succession--in short, I never saw him at such a
disadvantage, and I'm afraid my indignation has carried my pen away.
"Natalie is lovely. A little sad at times. She confided to me a secret
which no doubt accounts for her rather noticeable pensiveness. There
will be a baby in the old Morley house before the year is out."
Mark pondered over his mother's letter often, and with more misgiving
than behooved a man interested in his neighbor only in ordinary
neighborly fashion. He did full justice to his mother's shrewd
observation, and believed that her letter was intended to convey more
than appeared on the surface, and his self-communings in reference
thereto were not cheerful.