Josiah's Wife

Chapter I

' Love Is so cussed ; it has no respect of goodness.' Camela smoothed her pencilled eyebrows with one of her well-polished, slender nails. Not one hair was ruffled in the straight glossy lines ; it was merely a habit of hers when thinking. ' If having a good husband could kindle a wife's love, I should be the contentedest woman in the whole State of Massachusetts ; but love is an autocrat, love is a law unto itself, love has no respect of goodness.' She looked at herself in a tall pier-glass opposite and smiled, a warm little smile of satisfaction. ' Love has passed me over ; if he had only sown one little seed in my heart, I would have watered it carefully. And yet is love happiness? How many wives, when they've used up love, when the passion has died out, find that the saving clause for their future happiness lies in the fact that their husbands have the usual share of human goodness in their nature, for them to use for better or for worse, just as the woman in them dictates ?' She wore a little dressing-jacket of white muslin, and the pink of her skin showed through the slits of lace insertion which were let in here and there, like Venetian blinds, for coolness.

Her own beauty gave her a childish pleasure ; it interested her and gratified her, as naturally as all other objects of beauty did. She liked herself because she was beautful, and she did not spare her husband's purse in appearing to the utmost advantage. Camela's style of dressing was exclusive ; such dressing does not reach the outside world in England : in America it is different. She took the dainty manicure set off the dressing-table, littered with expensive American bric-a-brac, and opened the window which led on to the wooden balcony. She threw herself into a rocking-chair, and laid the ebony box on her lap. With great care, to avoid the crevices next to the skin, she put the scented pink powder on her nails ; then, holding them tightly together, she polished them with the little silver-backed chamois leather brush, until they looked like ten pink petals of almond blossom.

A beautiful woman, full of vanity, untouched by conceit, she spread out her fingers to admire them. The emerald in the marquise ring flashed defiance at the plain band of gold, which wore its usual expression of respectability. The rocking-chair was kept in rapid motion by the continual tap of her neat foot on the balcony floor. 1—2 Suddenly she got up, and the well-geared rocker flew backwards with a bound. She walked quickly to where the tall mirror stood inserted in the handsome bird's-eye maple wardrobe, and stopped abruptly in front of it. She dropped her hands at her side, and gazed at her reflection for some minutes in silence. 'Why do I do all this? Is it merely habit, or the female instinct to preen one's beauty ? Why has Love passed me over ?' She put her head to one side, and drew back the dainty lace jacket to show the soft pink flesh swelling over the top of her slim corsets. ' An artist's hand has made me — almost perfect.

I don't look ready-made, as so many women do. I'm a well -finished, hand-made article. I ought to represent the outward and visible signs of an inward and spiritual grace. But a friend told me yesterday that I was the most heartless woman in Lynn ; and if I am, is it quite my fault ? Love passed me over, and Fate didn't give me much chance. It compelled me to marry a man who is tiresome enough to be a Christian martyr. The Christian martyr fell in love with a girl with as much soul as a carpet tack. Saints avoid sin, but they hanker after sinners ;' and she added, with a grimace : ' The girl married him with as little questioning about her future as if she was accepting a disagreeable partner for a barn-dance at a ball. The martyr told the girl that Love would come ; but Love has passed her over. ...

It wasn't fair ; they might have given me a chance of knowing what marriage without love was before they converted me, by reading a service over my head, from a thoughtless schoolgirl into a wife. Is there no transition period for a woman ? And now they expect me to love, and do my duty, and be fondled by, a man who does not know how to choose his own necktie : a man without one vicious taste except — me ! If I am wicked and hard and cussed, it's not my fault ; if I have no more heart than a lizard, it is because it was torn out of me. Bah ! I loathe and detest my life ; and, oh !' — looking at herself in the glass — ' what it might have been if I had not married Josiah Skidmore !' The beautiful savage with a good dress maker took the manicure set she had laid on the chest of drawers near the wardrobe, and threw each piece ofthe daintily-monogrammed set at her own face in the mirror. ' There ! there ! there ! you fool ! fool ! fool !

Take that — and that — and that !' The little silver box full of violet-scented powder went flying against the heavily bevelled glass ; the cloud of pale pink dust partly hid her own image. ' You deserve all you ever got, and all you will continue to get until your place is wanted for another fool. Couldn't you have guessed that there is a glorious possibility in every life, and you've spoilt yours by taking a false step at the very outset. There are two things that are hidden mysteries until you try them — death and marriage. You must go blindfold into both, and you either fall into hell or heaven.' A piano stood in the corner of the room ; she went over to it with the stealthy movement of a caged animal that suddenly sees a piece of food put into the corner of its cage, for music was to her what drink is to the drunkard.

She flew to it to drown her despair. The Dissenting body in Lynn said her music was immoral ; perhaps it was. If music elevates some natures, it intoxicates others. With exquisite feeling she commenced a polonaise of Chopin's. In a few minutes the door opened, and the man who was her husband came in. He walked quietly across the soft, velvet pile carpet to where she sat, as if he had not the privilege of entering his wife's boudoir unannounced. Mr. Skidmore always did walk about his own house as if it was for show, and not for use. His wife went on playing without lifting her eyes from the keyboard ; she appeared not to have seen him enter. ' Have you not been out all day ?' He ventured to touch her shoulder with his left hand. In the other he held a bunch of violets. With a petulant shrug of her shoulders, as if she disliked the mere physical contact of his hand, she answered impatiently : 'No.' She had a habit of playing with her head a little inclined to one side, as if the ear nearest the keyboard was jealously waiting for each fresh harmony of sound. 'Why have you not been out?' He looked at her flimsy jacket and delicate slippers. ' You have never left your room, and it is about tea-time ; you have not yet troubled to dress.

Even your constitution will not stand this.' ' That is my concern, and I prefer my own room, thanks ; this jacket is cooler than a dress.' At another shrug of her shoulders he took the hint, and moved a step further from her. ' Don't worry. I can't get this movement right ; it's so catchy.' Josiah stood perfectly still, looking at her until she felt his eyes upon her. Impetu ously she snatched her hands from the notes, and jumped up from the piano. ' For goodness' sake, don't gaze at me like that ! What's the matter ? Can't you leave me alone ? Why do you walk about the house like an undertaker ?' Two cushions tied together with ribbon fell off the back of a chair. In an instant Josiah stooped and replaced them carefully. As Camela passed the little silver table, the lace in her jacket caught in one of the ornaments, and threw it on the floor.

Again Josiah quietly picked it up, and put it in its place. Like a young demon she turned on him. ' Oh, for mercy's sake, leave my room alone! What does it matter if the pin cushion falls on the floor ? Let it lie there. That housemaid's habit of yours will drive me mad. If I take a book off one table and lay it down on another, you are at my elbow to put it back. If I drop the news paper on the floor, you leave your book to put it in its proper place. You are always watching me. In my room the proper place is where I put things. It's the shop-walker's instinct born and bred in you ; you go tidy ing after me as if I were a customer who had upset your goods !' Josiah Skidmore winced, and flushed a deep crimson. He had a nobler character than the young goddess who took all the privileges of a spoilt wife, and gave him nothing in return ; but he never entered her presence without feeling his own social in equality.

At the sight of the very evident pain she had caused him, some of the good and gentle that was possibly in her came to the surface. ' I did not mean to hurt you ; being a storekeeper is just as good as being any thing else, I suppose. It is merely a foolish prejudice of mine, but it is new to me to treat storekeepers as my equals. But why should you mind ? I wonder you are not accustomed to my brutal tongue. I am really sorry ; it is I who am the inferior.' She even went so far as to put her hand on his shoulder, and stand by his side for a moment. ' Why do you mind what I say ?' ' I mind because you are my wife, and because — because — I am fool enough to love you.' ' That is impossible. You mistake what love is. You cannot love me still. You just want to tame me — that was why you married me — but that will never be.

You said to yourself that I didn't know what love meant, that I didn't know what life without love meant, that every woman must have someone to love, so that I should learn to love you. Yes ; life was something unknown to me. I was a golden-eyed animal that could talk, and you — you machine-made man — you thought you could do a little of your Seventh Day Baptist's mission work and convert me, but I'll die a heathen to spite you.' Josiah Skidmore shivered. Her tongue lashed him. To hide his misery, he began again to tidy the room, putting the music in orderly heaps in the music-stand, and hang ing the rich down quilt over the end of the sofa. His wife watched him with a curious look in her eyes. Before he had time to realize what she was doing, she darted round the room, and threw down pincushions, ribbon bags, scent-sachets full of handkerchiefs, in wild confusion on the floor. ' There !' she cried, pausing in her mad action, and pointing to the things on the floor, 'you can have a whole spring-cleaning if you like.' With the point of her slipper she kicked the dainty feminine things across the floor to where he stood. ' Go and make a notion counter of them at special mark down prices ; I'm tired of them.' She went back to the piano, and began playing. ' Your remark about religion was scarcely fair.' He took no notice of the wild con fusion on the floor. ' We have been married just two years, and I have only once spoken to you on the subject, and then it was to comfort you.

I have not done so since.' ' No ; you have not ' — she looked at him as much as to say, ' You daren't ' — ' but your people have, and the people here — your friends. They look at me as if I were a curio brought from the Sandwich Islands. Every one of them is itching to convert me. Bah ! such a set of creepy, slopy shouldered Christians ; they walk as if they thought it was immoral to have a straight backbone.' Josiah was smoothing a crumpled anti macassar he had gathered from the heap on the floor. He did not look at her when he spoke. ' You don't try to make the best of your life here ; there are some very nice people even in my set. But you never give them a chance ; you don't trouble to return their calls. You refuse to see them when they call upon you. There are two sides to every question.

You say I have spoilt your life. I made you a solemn promise when we were married, and I have kept it. What about my life ? Do you think it is happy ?' There was an awkward silence. ' I do not trouble you much with my com pany, and I never restrict your actions.' Camela had been changing the little muslin jacket for a dainty house frock of half-mourning, which she was still wearing for her mother. She was finishing the effect by pinning the bunch of violets he had brought her at her throat when he made the last remark. ' Restrict my actions ! You restrict me ! I have never been restricted in my life. If I wanted to play with fire when I was a child, I played with fire ; if I had wanted to kill myself, I should have killed myself. Marrying you was the first unpleasant thing I ever did.' She stuck the pin of her gold brooch in her finger, and sucked off the little spot of crimson blood. ' Fasten this in for me, please ; I've hurt my finger.' Quietly and neatly he put the violets in her dress ; there was silence between them for a moment, and their eyes met.

A little impulse of graciousness made her take his hands in her slender ones, and raise them to her lips. ' You married a devil, Josiah.' If Josiah had been wise in the ways of women, he would have left her then to her reflections ; but he was too good and simple to calculate upon an effective move. He put his arms round her, and whispered. She shook herself free, and her slim figure seemed to tower above him. ' Haven't I told you I hate that sort of thing ? The first thing a man does if a woman is gracious to him is to kiss her, or, if he isn't her husband, he tries how nearly she will let him.' After this rebuff Josiah left the room, and they did not meet again until dinner-time.

Chapter II

Camela was very careful that every American ism should be banished from their table ; she had been taught by her anti-American mother to look upon their customs at table as vulgar and ill-bred. At the same time, she did not despise the dainty American bric-a-brac and the delicately-set jewels for which they are world-renowned. ' Americans are French in the matter of dress,' she once said, ' and Germans in the matter of food.' Josiah had quietly consented to the banish ment of all his favourite dishes, contenting himself with having them at his mid-day meal in Boston. Iced water, however, instead of wine, he insisted upon drinking, and when Josiah would not give in for the sake of peace, the point was a matter of conscience. Camela, who had a woman's genius for probing a man's weak point, knew that by drinking wine, which she did not care for in the least, she could seriously annoy him.

They had sat in unbroken silence until the servants had left the room. Josiah had never grown accustomed to the presence of a servant at the back of his chair, but Camela insisted upon this formal waiting even when they were alone. Unpleasant topics were less likely to be discussed, and this was the only time in the day in which she was compelled to sit tete-a-tete with her husband. ' Have you given up the idea of joining that provincial company ?' She was moving her marquise ring up and down her married finger. ' No ; I have written to tell him I will go. I told you I meant to.' Josiah looked at her straight in the eyes. The hazel of Camela's eyes turned to gold when she was excited. Camela was golden eyed just as truly as some are blue-eyed. ' Do you mean to tell me that you are going against my express wishes ?

Little things don't matter — I always give in for the sake of peace — but in this case my wishes should be consulted.' ' I did consult them, and, as you dis approved of my having a little change to break the monotony of my life here, it seems rather a pity that I did. Asi mean to go, it would have been pleasanter not to have known of your objection ; and you know you never " restrict my actions." ' The remark was a taunt. Josiah was silent for a moment ; he was praying to be given patience to bear with her. He placed the small salt-cellars in their proper position, and gathered together the shells of the cob-nuts on his plate. ' Camela, once more, for your own sake I ask you to give it up. Why does this man 2 — want you to join his company ? You can't act — you have never had any training.

I will tell you the vulgar truth — I saw it in his eyes : he wants you to join because you are a beautiful woman, and one who is not too proud to let the whole world know that she does not care for her husband. He thinks, therefore, that you are not too proud for his pleasure — to make love to you.' If he had not been looking down at his plate when he made the last part of his speech, he would scarcely have had the courage to go on. Camela rose from her seat and threw her serviette on the floor. ' How dare you, Josiah Skidmore ! How dare you ! God knows I do not deserve your insult! I can act. If I had not been acting for the last two years, I should not have been mixing with what you call Christian people. If I had not to go on acting the lie of a dutiful wife, I would kill you. The most vinegar-faced of your Baptist Christians in this hateful suburb has not dared to hint at what you, my husband, have said.

That is why they hate me. I do not love you, so they think I must love another. They watch me as a cat watches a mouse. Oh, I know them! If I go a long walk, it is to meet a lover. If I look ill, it is because I have not seen him. I have made up my mind. I shall go just to prove that you are wrong, that men are not all so wicked as you would have me think.' Josiah was in a quiet man's rage at last. ' What if I command you to stay ?' Camela laughed. It was not her usual contagious laugh, but bitter and defiant. ' I should say it was useless.' Josiah was a gentleman, although he had not mixed with men who often think more of what they call ' good form ' than good lives. So he did not tell her that if he refused the necessary dollars the command would be effectual ; and Camela knew that he would not use his strongest weapon. ' Then, I suppose there is no more to be said.' ' No, there is no more to be said. That's the best thing about you, Josiah ; you never waste words.'

Chapter III

Three weeks passed, and Josiah only heard twice from his wife — two postcards appa rently dashed off in a great hurry. One was a request that he would send her her seal skin sacque, as the evenings were chilly, and the other was to acknowledge the receipt of it. Josiah had written to her long letters, telling her all the news that had entered into his life, which was not much, for since his marriage he had retired almost entirely from society. This was his wife's doing ; by her studied neglect of his friends, and her per sistent refusal to enter in any way into the social life of the suburb in which they lived, Josiah found himself cut adrift from all his old friends. He did not miss the small tea-party entertainment of a petty suburban society, but he did miss the intellectual com panionship of one or two of his old bachelor friends.

Selling ' ready-made pants and imported tweed-suitings ' was Josiah's trade by day ; but by night his hobby was the study of the stars. His companion in this pursuit was a certain Dick Ruggles, a Boston lawyer, and a man who mixed with the aristocracy of Beacon Street. These two ' star-cranks,' as Josiah's wife called them, got through their days somehow ; ' ready-made pants ' were as uncongenial to Josiah's temperament as law was to Dick Ruggles : not that he was in the least ashamed of his trade. For years it had been the custom of these two men, so widely apart in social standing, to dine together after business hours, and afterwards to spend the evening in Josiah's observatory, which was the best in the State. It did not occur to Josiah to grumble at the trade which afforded him such a comfortable income.

Over the door of his handsome store in large gold letters was 'JOSIAH SKIDMORE & SON,' but the 'Son' was now the Josiah Skidmore, and the sole owner of the prosperous business. Dick Ruggles was the only one of Josiah's friends who had not deserted him. For the first two or three months after their marriage he had been afraid of intruding on Josiah's domestic bliss ; but when tongues began to exchange gossip over the affairs of the Skidmore home, and the Lynn mothers with eligible daughters, whom Josiah had passed over, whispered that Josiah Skidmore had got more than he bargained for, Dick Ruggles determined to step in, and resume to a certain extent his old footing with his friend, and so in Camela's absence they had fallen somewhat into their old habits. Josiah and his friend suddenly stopped talking and listened : someone was coming up the narrow stone staircase of the tower.

The door opened, and someone came into the little room where the telescope was mounted, pointing its nose to the sky, like a cannon on a swinging pivot. It was Josiah's wife. She had on a long rich travelling cloak and a small theatre hat. She walked round the telescope, which usurped the centre of the room, and seated herself on a small couch which was fitted into the curve of the wall. She took no notice of her husband or his friend, but, as if she had come to stay, she took off her little velvet hat, and stuck the diamond hat pin through the brim, and laid it on the couch beside her. Josiah went up to her, and put his hand kindly on her glossy coil of hair. She looked tired and unhappy ; he felt a great wave of pity for her. With all her savage instinct for freedom, she was a very de pendent woman in trouble — a thing to be loved and guarded, a thing to provoke love and tenderness.

Something must have gone wrong, for she had not written to say she was coming back, and her intention had been to stay away five weeks, and barely three had elapsed. This was what Josiah had hoped and prayed for, that when she was in trouble she would turn to him. ' So you have come back, Camela ; I am glad.' ' Of course. I never contemplated staying away altogether.' Josiah saw that he was not meant to re mind her that she had gone away with the intention of being on tour five weeks. ' Have you enjoyed yourself? You look tired.' ' What silly questions you ask ! I did not go to enjoy myself. I went as an experi ment, and it has failed. Besides, you know I hate being told how I look. Must my whole life depend on my looks ?' She turned and addressed Dick Ruggles as though she had only noticed his presence for the first time. ' Mr. Ruggles, a woman does not like to own herself defeated ; it is not a pleasant sensation.

I own my defeat. My experi ment was a failure.' Dick Ruggles was beginning to feel that the little observatory was scarcely large enough to hold himself and this witch-woman apart. She was so magnetic, and the ex quisite grace of her movements affected him. When his back was turned to her, he hated her, and longed to kill her, so that he and Josiah might fall back into the peace of the old days ; but when he turned to look at her there was a strange gold light in her eyes — a light which he had only seen once or twice melt into something so gentle that it stirred in him a feeling of mingled pity and desire for the superb young animal chafing her strength out against the harness that was breaking her will. He hated her in his heart for scorning her husband ; but he found it impossible to steer a clear course between this woman and her husband.

While she was talking to him she was all womanly gentleness and sympathy, and he wondered in his heart if this was another piece of her cussedness ; but he scorned the idea. She was singularly free from a beautiful woman's desire to make slaves of the men who were influenced most by her beauty — and every woman knows when the pulses of a man quicken at her presence. She had taken a fancy to Dick Ruggles, and meant him to be her friend. Most of Josiah's friends she had snubbed until they could no longer, even for her husband's sake, humble their pride enough to visit at his house. When they were alone, Camela said abruptly to her husband : ' I wish people fought duels nowadays.' ' Would you throw down the gauntlet ?' ' No ; a woman is no match for a man. You would fight it for me. What is the use of all your fencing clubs if you cannot put it into practice — if you cannot avenge an insult offered to your wife ?

How can you seek revenge nowadays, Josiah ?' ' By writing to the newspapers.' ' Can't you answer seriously ?' ' I did not know you were serious.' He put a cushion which had fallen on the floor back on the lounge, and the green cloth cover on the telescope with absurd exactness. Camela walked round the room to the top of the narrow stairs. As she went, she half tripped in one of the lace flounces of her silk petticoat. She stooped and tore it off angrily. 'You've got to fight it somehow, if you have to go over to France to do it. Or perhaps it would be better to write to the papers and expose the whole thing.' ' What on earth wants exposing ?' She turned and faced him. ' That theatrical manager insulted me. He's a low American cad ! There isn't a woman in his troupe he can leave alone. He made hateful advances to me — he asked me to — he offered me Don't you under stand ?

You're so dull. He thought I was ambitious. He was willing to give me a push if I would Well, what are you going to do to him ?' Josiah winced and clenched his fingers. He could almost feel the man's neck in his grasp. ' I ran away last night. I left the theatre when no one knew, and I have travelled ever since. I had no under-study. I can see him now, tricked and fooled, when the call boy gave my cue.' She waited for Josiah to answer. ' What can I do ? You have tied my hands. When he asked you to join his troupe, I distinctly opposed the suggestion, and snubbed the sensual Jew — he is no American — for his impertinence. In return my wife distinctly snubbed me by accepting his offer, and appearing to like what I con sidered a direct insult to any woman.' 'And are you going to let this man go unpunished for his insolence, when I tell you he attempted to — to make love to me.' ' It is only what I expected.' ' And yet you let me go.