Touched and perplexed, Mr. Middleton gave over for the moment; but
presently he had his opportunity to be extravagant. As soon as his
wife was able to leave her room, the doctor ordered her to pass a
portion of every day out-of-doors. This was partly to strengthen her
lungs and partly for the moral effect. Doctor Fenwick feared that if
she should revert to the long days upon her couch or bed with the
novels and chocolates, the headache-powders or a substitute would
follow, soon or late, with more perilous results. She submitted to his
dictum with resignation, being, indeed, rather captivated by the idea.
Her husband and Elsie went into Boston and selected a rich and warm fur
coat, fur-lined gloves and overshoes, and three warm, dark-colored
serge dresses which were a great improvement upon the wrappers. On the
day after she received them, Mrs. Middleton spent two hours on the
porch with ill-concealed delight. And, thereafter, rising and
breakfasting with the others, she passed the whole of every forenoon
out-of-doors, not only with beneficial results but with continued
enjoyment.
The sentimental aspect, of course, appealed to her strongly. Sometimes
she pleased herself by fancying that the doctor had discovered that one
of her lungs was quite gone and the other a mere fragment, and feared
to tell her. On such days her voice was feeble but breathed the same
sweet patience that her face wore. Again, it was her heart "outwearing
its sheath," as she put it. Always, however, she felt herself an
interesting and picturesque invalid, and her martyr-like expression
scarcely disguised her enjoyment of the rôle.
Unconsciously, her somewhat torpid mental powers quickened. The house
being on the main highway, there was always something to look at
against the background of the beautiful common, and she conceived a
vivid interest in the passing show. An active in lieu of a passive
mind did its part in the improvement of her health. The tables were
turned. Now it was she who told Kate that the Berrys had a fine new
motor-truck, and had apparently disposed of their dappled greys to the
grain-man--she only wished _they_ traded with the grain-man--couldn't
one buy oatmeal of him? And Rachel Stewart actually had a new dress in
which she looked very trim, though it was too long right in the back.
Perhaps Elsie could speak to her about it at the library? Little
Robbie Caldwell had begun to go to school alone since the new baby had
come. And they had a new perambulator and had given the old one to the
Howes, which would make it easier for little Mattie.
People passing began to run up and ask the minister's wife how she did.
She was never very well; but she was so sweetly patient and so truly
grateful that they lingered and their visits became frequent; children
came on Saturdays and made children's long flattering stays; and
presently there was never a morning when she did not have some one, and
often she was not alone at all. And thus it came about that for the
first time she came to know many of her husband's parishioners with
some familiarity.
More than one reversed their judgment, and almost every one revised it.
Mrs. Middleton was sentimental--there was no gainsaying that; she was
rather gushing. Yet she was truly kind-hearted, generous to a fault,
thoughtful in many ways, with really keen intuition in certain
directions. As people came again and again, she guessed many a hidden
trouble or vexation, and her sympathy was warm and very grateful; while
now and again she had a flash of inspiration that was marvellously
helpful.
No one's revision of judgment was more sweeping, perhaps, than that of
Elsie Marley. Somehow her former shrinking had quite disappeared
during the long illness, and the change in Mrs. Middleton's appearance
helped bridge the way to a better understanding. The old wrappers and
tea-gowns had gone to the ragman. The new afternoon gowns Elsie had
selected were yet prettier than the morning ones and very becoming.
The out-of-door air had already almost made over her complexion: her
skin looked healthy, her color was good; and with the new fashion of
wearing her hair, she began to look attractive and almost pretty.
She had not curled her hair since her illness, and now it was soft and
smooth and seemed warmer in color. The nurse having parted it one day
when Mrs. Middleton was convalescent, and coiled it upon her head
simply, had declared it made her look like a Raphael madonna. The
allusion was far-fetched, but it touched Mrs. Middleton's sentimental
fancy, and she adopted that style of hair-dressing permanently.
In the morning, Elsie attended to her household duties and helped the
minister. She fell now into the habit of spending the early part of
the afternoon with Mrs. Middleton, going over to the library just
before four. Doctor Fenwick having suggested knitting as a soothing
indoor occupation, his patient sent for an immense quantity of
wool--enough to keep half a dozen pairs of hands busy all winter--and
began to make red-white-and-blue afghans for the Labrador Mission.
Whereupon Elsie proposed reading to her while she worked. Mrs.
Middleton was delighted, but when Elsie got "Adam Bede" from the
shelves, she confessed that it tired her head. "Henry Esmond" was
likewise too heavy, and Elsie groaned inwardly, expecting to be asked
to read some of the paper-covered novels she was addicted to. She said
to herself she simply couldn't: she had never in her life read any such
trash and she would have to excuse herself. Then, looking up,
something made her change her mind and decide to be a martyr. But
before she could speak Mrs. Middleton herself had a happy inspiration.
"Oh, Elsie, I know what I'd just love to hear," she cried, "and what my
poor head could take in as it couldn't Thackeray to-day, though when
I'm strong I dote on him--I always took naturally to the classics. But
now I feel like one of Miss Alcott's books. I suppose you have read
them over and over?" she asked rather wistfully.
Elsie confessed that she had never done so, but would be glad to make
their acquaintance.
Mrs. Middleton was truly amazed--as was the minister, indeed; for his
sister had known them almost by heart. They had the whole set in the
house, and Elsie began with "Little Women" that afternoon.
For the first time she was reluctant to go to the library when the hour
approached. It was hard to stop reading. And they laughed together in
an easy, natural way that was quite new to their intercourse as each
exacted a promise from the other not to look at the story again until
they should go on with it together.
They went through the whole set that winter and sighed when they had
come to the last volume. Perhaps no single thing had influenced Elsie
Marley more than the reading those sweet, wholesome stories at that
time and in that manner. She had already changed much, and was perhaps
just ready for the influence. Reading them with Mrs. Middleton, she
was drawn to her as she would never have believed it to be possible, as
they laughed and cried together over the pranks and trials, joys and
sorrows of those New England boys and girls of a singularly happy
generation. And, unawares, she was strengthened for the hour of trial
that was to come to her as it comes to every one that tampers with the
laws that are inherent in the structure of the universe.
Meantime, circumstances were leading on toward that hour.