Girlhood and Womanhood | Page 6

much as the twaddling goody stories."
"Polly," said Joanna angrily, but speaking low, "I think you might spare us on so sad a subject."
"I want you to have common sense; I want you to be comfortable; no wonder my uncle has never recovered his spirits."
"Indeed, Polly, I don't think you've any reason to interfere in papa's concerns."
"I don't see that you are entitled to blame Joanna," defended sister Lilias, stoutly;--Lilias, who was so swift to find fault herself.
"There, I'll say no more; I beg your pardon, I merely intended to show you your world in an ordinary light."
"Do you know, Polly, that Mrs. Jardine has never visited us since?" asked Susan.
"Very likely, she was entitled to some horror. But she is a reasonable woman. Mr. Maxwell told me--every third party discusses the story behind your backs whenever it chances to come up, I warn you--Mr. Maxwell informed me that she never blamed Uncle Crawfurd, and that she sent her son away from her because she judged it bad for him to be brought up among such recollections, and feared that when he was a lad he might be tampered with by the servants, and might imbibe prejudices and aversions that would render him gloomy and vindictive, and unlike other people for the rest of his life; she could not have behaved more wisely. I am inclined to suppose that Mrs. Jardine of Whitethorn has more knowledge of the world and self-command than the whole set of my relations here, unless, perhaps, my Aunt Crawfurd--she will only speculate on your dresses--that is the question, Susan."
II.--THE ORDEAL.
"Would you not have liked to have gone with the other girls, Joanna? for Conny, she must submit to be a halflin yet. But is it not dull for you only to hear of a party? country girls have few enough opportunities of being merry," observed Mr. Crawfurd, with his uneasy consciousness, and his sad habit of self-reproach.
"Oh, Mr. Crawford, it would not have done--not the first time--Joanna had much better stay at home on this occasion. She is too well brought up to complain of a little sacrifice."
It is curious how long some wives will live on friendly terms with their husbands and never measure their temperaments, never know where the shoe pinches, never have a notion how often they worry, and provoke, and pain their spouses, when the least reticence and tact would keep the ship and its consort sailing in smooth water.
Mrs. Crawfurd would have half-broken her heart if Mr. Crawfurd had not changed his damp stockings; she would fling down her work and look out for him at any moment of his absence; she would not let any of her children, not her favourite girl or boy, take advantage of him; she was a good wife, still she did not know where the shoe pinched, and so she stabbed him perpetually, sometimes with fretting pin-pricks, sometimes with sore sword-strokes.
"My dear, I wish you were not a sacrifice to me." It is a heart-breaking thing to hear a man speak quite calmly, and like a man, yet with a plaintive tone in his voice. Ah! the old, arch spirit of the literary Laird of the Ewes had been shaken to its centre, though he was a tolerable man of business, and rather fond of attending markets, sales, and meetings.
"Papa, what are you thinking of?" exclaimed Joanna indignantly. "I am very proud to help you, and I go out quite as often as the others. Do you not know, we keep a card hung up on Lilias's window-shutter, and we write down every month's invitations--in stormy weather they are not many--and we fulfil them in rotation. You don't often want me in the evenings, for you've quite given me up at chess, and you only condescend to backgammon when it is mid-winter and there has been no curling, and the book club is all amiss. Lilias insists upon the card, because the parties are by no means always merry affairs, and she says that otherwise we would slip them off on each other, and pick and choose, and be guilty of a great many selfish, dishonourable proceedings."
"Lilias is the wise woman in the household. I'm aware there is a wise woman in every family--but how comes it that Lilias is the authority with us? It always rather puzzles me, Joanna; for when I used to implore Miss Swan to accept her salary, and pay Dominie Macadam his lawful demand of wages for paving the boys' brains in preparation for the High School, they always complimented me with the assurance that you were my clever daughter."
"Because they saw your weak side, I dare say, my dear," suggests Mrs. Crawfurd.
"No, I am the cleverest, papa; I am so deep that I see that it is easier to