When William reached his wife's apartments, Dinah let him in as she had
upon his previous visit. Her face seemed to beam with happiness. He put
his finger to his lips, and, divining his wish to surprise Clarissa, she
said nothing, but pointed to a door beyond and, smiling, nodded and
disappeared.
Leaving his outer garments in the hall, he quickly traversed the
distance between him and the door, and without pausing to be announced,
opened and entered Clarissa's private room. She lay prostrate upon the
bed, crying and moaning piteously, and as she had not heard him enter,
was only aware of his presence when she felt his arms about her and saw
his face as he bent over her.
It seemed like a pleasant dream to feel his lips upon her own,--his arms
encircling her, and for a moment, she gave herself unrestrainedly to the
happiness she felt. Her perfect abandonment to his embrace was the
strongest proof William had ever had of her love for him.
Her greeting left no room for him to doubt her sincerity, and for a
while both were oblivious to time and their surroundings. Clarissa was
first to speak.
"Did you come in answer to my prayer?"
"I hope so. Tell me what it was, dear."
"I prayed I might be guided to do what was right, and not be influenced
by any selfish motive to gain my own happiness. I do not wish to be
selfish."
"Clarissa, let your heart speak, for our future happiness depends upon
your answer. Is my love and presence capable of bringing you any joy? Am
I ever necessary to you?"
"Always, William--always. I was never truly happy when you were absent.
Even when Augustus came, I wanted you to share my joy. I have been so
lonely and miserable. You will not leave me again, will you? I am
sick;--a weak and feeble woman."
"I never left you, Clarissa; you know that. You left me. I have been
thinking it over. I do not doubt my love was often obtrusive and
selfish, but I never meant it to be so. Let me now give you the benefit
of my riper judgment. All I ask is to see you and to know you are
present in my home, which has been so desolate without you. I promise
you, I will not obtrude myself upon you unless you ask me to do so. I
was selfish, but you know it was only my jealousy that got the better of
me. When such tempests come, I have not the power to resist; do not heed
my looks nor words, for they are not true to the real man, but come to
me, and place your arms around me as you have them now. The touch will
restore to me my lost senses. I do not doubt your honesty, Clarissa, but
at times, there sweeps over my soul such a wave of power I cannot resist
it, depriving me even of my reason. If any man were to come to me and
even hint that I should doubt you, I should resent it as a gross insult.
I do trust you, still, I do not. You cannot understand me; I do not
really understand myself. Just have patience. Help me to overcome this
monster. Really, I only doubt my power to please and satisfy you, and I
wish to be dearer to you than all else in life. Will you not help me to
conquer this Demon who rules and governs me, and renders me insane for
the time? The touch of your arms and lips will always dispel him if you
will but have patience with me. Try to realize how I love you. Tell me,
dearest, why were you sobbing when I came?"
"I am afraid to."
"If you have one spark of love for me in your soul, never think--much
less say that you are afraid to tell me anything. Whatever is to be
told, tell me, and let us work out the problem together. I have thought
over carefully all you said to me in our last interview, and acknowledge
I have often been selfish and exacting, still you were wrong, for God is
love, and love has the power to sanction the union of the sexes. My
soul was wedded to yours; we were married in the highest sense of the
word. I may have made exorbitant demands upon you and your patience
then, but, Clarissa, your love will give you patience to restrain my
selfishness, and hold me where I ought to be. Whatever I say,--whatever
I do, only come and put your arms around me as they are now, and you
will find, instead of a dictator, you will have a slave."
"I believe you, William. The assurance of your love makes me the
happiest woman upon earth, but what am I to do with Augustus? I cannot
help feeling I am responsible for his infirmity; therefore, I ought
gladly and willingly to sacrifice every desire of my heart to be with
him, doing what he wants me to do. I do not want to be selfish, William,
am I not so when I find my only happiness in your presence and your
love?"
"No, dear; love--real love--cannot be selfish."
"You ask me one thing, he asks me another totally different. Each says
if I love him, I will do as he wishes; I love you both, and I want to go
to your home, William, I am tired of struggling alone. I want your care
and love, but Augustus wants to go elsewhere, and thinks if I do not do
as he wishes I do not love him. When I see his helplessness, I feel
that I am to blame for it, and ought to do whatever he asks me. I cannot
please you both. I cannot do what both want. I love you both far dearer
than myself; what shall I do? Can you not help me, William? Am I selfish
when I long to put my trust in you,--to have you think for me? Tell me
what to do. I want to do for Augustus all that a mother could do, but my
soul hungers for you and your love."
"Clarissa, how can the love of man and wife be selfish? Augustus is our
child--I would gladly offer my life for him, but he can never be to me
what you are; I may be wrong, but it seems to me the love of husband and
wife is the strongest that can be expressed. Can a child's love for its
mother outbalance her husband's? Not if she loves her husband. As I
understand the Infinite law, man and woman blend their loves to make a
complete whole, while a child leaves its parents to unite itself with
its opposite. A mother's love may be strong and powerful, but I believe
the true love of husband or wife outweighs in power that of a mother, or
even of a child. Tell me truly;--which love satisfies you better--a
child's or a husband's?"
"Do not ask me, William, for I am so weak a woman, that my soul cries
out for your love and appreciation, and will not be stilled, although I
know my boy ought to engross every sentiment of my life."
"Why should he engross your whole attention any more than other
children? Are they the sole thought of their mothers? Is it not selfish
for him to make us both miserable simply because he took a dislike to me
for putting you to sleep? He was frightened. I was to blame for
announcing myself as his father with no preparation. He liked me at
first, and will again. We will make it the study of our lives to make
him happy. Where does he want to go?"
"To Australia."
"Australia?"
"Yes, William. How did you happen to come back just now, when you
expected us to come to you? I was just going to write you that you need
not expect us, and by the time you would have received my letter, we
should have left here. That was why I was crying. Augustus would have
made himself ill if I had not promised him he should go.--Now he has
gone out, happy; James is with him. He loves James. How did you happen
to come now? Is the young man better? James has told me all about his
family, and how you have lived since I went away."
"Merle was much better when I got there. I wanted so much to hear from
you, and how you were getting on, I asked Alice if I might entrance
her; she told me to leave at once and hurry back to you, for you were
thinking of going away where I could not reach you for a long time. I
left at once, and here I am, for I do not intend you shall leave me
again if I can help it."
"Tell me; how could she know I intended going? I do not understand much
of your power."
"I cannot explain it to you now. When we have more time, I will teach
you the science. There is Augustus. His voice sounds happy. What makes
you tremble so? Surely, you are not afraid of your child! I will deal
with him."
"No! No! You must not. It would make him so nervous he would be ill. We
have to be very careful not to allow him to become excited. We have
tried to spare him suffering in every way since he was a baby."
"You do not think I intend to be cross with him, do you?"
"No; but when he makes up his mind to do a thing, you cannot refuse him,
he gets so nervous. William, could not you go to Australia for a
journey? You have nothing to keep you here, and that would pacify
him,--to know you were willing to please him. I am sure we could soon
reconcile him to your going."
"Clarissa, I am surprised that you who were so fearless with me, so
impatient of dictation, should be governed by a mere child. Your own
boy! If I thought you, or he, either, really needed the change, or that
it would do you good, I would gladly go, no matter what I left behind,
for it shall be the object of my life to make you both happy.--As it is,
this is but a childish whim, and you will both be much more comfortable
in my home. You need rest and quiet. Do not look so pained and sad. I
will manage the boy easily, and promise that he shall not be ill."
"You do not know him, William, but I will promise him a pony that he can
drive himself. That may please him. He wants one--"
"You never tried so hard to please me.--There;--that was unkind--I will
take it back. Now let me make you sleep a while. You will wake rested
and calm. Do not resist. I will not make Augustus ill. Sleep. Sleep and
gain strength.--Now for Augustus. No wonder Alice said he needed
discipline. I shall need all my power to rule my home."
Having arranged her comfortably, William left the apartment, and
following the sound of voices, entered without announcing himself,
speaking pleasantly to Augustus and James and Dinah. James was delighted
to see him, but Augustus' face darkened at once. He did not offer to
return his father's greeting, but said quickly to Dinah, "Where is
mamma? I want to see her."
He started to leave the room, but William stood in his way, looking him
steadily in the eyes with a calm, quiet gaze.
"Get out of my way, or I will hurt you. I am going to see my mother. She
will send you away."
"Your mother is tired and sleeping. You do not want to disturb her. Have
you no welcome for me?"
"I hate you. I will not stay where you are. I will wake mamma. She will
make you leave. I will run my chair against you if you do not move. I
tell you I want to go to my mother. James, push him away."
"Honey, do not get nervous and sick; if you do, you can not go away."
"James, I tell you to make him move out of my way, or he will wish he
had."
Dinah went to the boy and tried to smooth his hair and pacify him. He
only pushed her away, glaring all the time with the might of his will at
his father. He was becoming very much excited. William had expected an
unpleasant scene, but not quite such as this. If it continued long, the
boy would make himself ill. What an indomitable will he had! He was
fairly choking with rage and anger.
"Dinah and James, you may retire. Leave us alone."
"They shall not go. They belong to mother. You have no right to tell
them what to do. You had better go yourself. Move out of my way, or I
will hurt you."
"James--Dinah,--leave us. I do not wish to speak to you again."
The tone of William's voice left no room for doubt he meant what he
said, and they closed the door behind them without a word. As they did
so, Augustus pushed his chair forward; William's face was white. He
stood with folded arms, right in the path, his eyes gleaming
brilliantly. They were stubborn wills that conflicted, but William's had
all the advantage, as he knew how to direct his thoughts clearly, while
Augustus was spending his wildly.
Just as the chair reached him, William put out his hand and stopped it
right in front of him. That he should be stopped so enraged Augustus,
who had always been accustomed to seeing everyone bow to his wishes,
that, raising himself to his feet, and supporting himself with one hand,
he struck William with all the force of his strength. William seized the
wrist with one hand and holding it firmly, with the other he forced the
boy back into his chair. Augustus was trembling in every limb. The
unconquered force of will was shining in his eyes, but his body was too
frail and weak to support it. He struggled to speak several times before
he could articulate.
"Let me go. I will be sick and frighten mamma so she will send you
away. Mamma! Dinah! James! Let me go, I say. If I were a man, I would be
ashamed to hold a sick boy. Mamma!"
"I am not holding a sick boy, but a cross one. Do not call your mother
or anyone else again. They will not come to you."
"What are you going to do, kill me? Mamma--mamma!"
"Do not dare to call her again. When you and I have finished, we will
both go to her. Stop. Stop struggling. You are powerless to get away.
Calm yourself and listen to me."
"I will not be calm. I shall be sick, and mamma will wish she had
listened to me. She is always scared--"
"You are not going to be ill."
"I will. I am sick. I feel my heart beating fast; that always means I am
going to be awful sick. Why are you looking at me that way? You are
hurting my wrist. I cannot breathe, I am--"
"You are feeling well. See, you are not trembling so much; Augustus,
look at me. There, there,--you cannot get away, so you may as well obey
me. Be a good boy and we will go to your mother. Let us tell her we are
friends. I know you are tired;--I will carry you."
"What will you give me if I won't be sick?"
"I shall not allow you to be ill. Come; you are exhausted. I will carry
you in my arms to your mother. You may rest beside her when you have
told me you are sorry for your behavior, and are ready to come home with
me."
"I shall never say I am sorry. We are not going home with you."
"You shall sit right where you are until you do say so."
Suddenly Augustus burst forth into a perfect tempest of crying. He shook
from head to foot, and every little while he called "Mamma--Dinah!"
William stood beside him, offering no remarks or assistance, but when
the fury had spent itself he said quietly, "It is useless for you to try
to frighten me. We will stay right here until you do what I say."
"Mamma will come soon. She will hate you for making me sick."
William said no more, but his face showed, even to the boy, he had no
intention of changing his mind, and they continued to look at one
another. Augustus was weak and exhausted, but he would not give in and
say he was sorry. As time slipped by, his head began to droop; the
excitement was too much for him. He was used to winning his battles
quickly, and this was a new experience for him. Seeing he was tired,
William spoke again.
"Shall I take you to your mother now?"
"Yes."
"Then say you are sorry and will go home with me."
"I will not. I will never say it."
There was another long wait. Augustus' eyes drooped heavily. At last he
gave his head a toss and said: "If you cure mamma, I will go home with
you. Then I may be sorry I struck you."
William could not help smiling at this answer. It was hard to give in,
and the boy wanted to get away. This was the best compromise he could
think of, but, having started to conquer him, William felt it his duty
to finish, as it would save that much trouble later.
"That is not what I asked you to say."
There was another silence. William pitied the boy, he was so tired and
weak. After a time Augustus said: "I am sorry you made it necessary for
me to strike you." As he looked in his father's face, he saw no signs of
relenting. This time the pause was longer. Finally he looked up with a
pitiful expression and held out his hands, saying: "Please take me to
mamma. I will tell her I have been naughty and cross."
William lifted him easily; as he laid his head against his shoulder,
Augustus clasped his neck and nestled down, wan and tired. That was the
hardest task he had ever done. He was thoroughly conquered, and looked
up with a pleasant smile when he felt his father's kiss upon his face,
and was soon lying by his mother's side fast asleep.
William was content to watch them, and as he sat there, he thought what
a blessing Alice's advice had been to him. He had his family back now.
Could he keep them? If love would hold them he would. He was tired
himself, but he must go and consult with James and Dinah. So he left
them together and went out to perfect his plans for their future
happiness.