He Fell In Love With His Wife | Page 8

the
gang had received a lesson which might restrain them from preying
upon others.
Holcroft was partly to blame for his present isolation. Remote rural
populations are given to strong prejudices, especially against those who
are thought to be well-off from an oversaving spirit; and who, worse
still, are unsocial. Almost anything will be forgiven sooner than
"thinking one's self better than the other folks;" and that is the usual
interpretation of shy, reticent people. But there had been a decided
tinge of selfishness in the Holcrofts' habit of seclusion; for it became a
habit rather than a principle. While they cherished no active dislike to
their neighbors, or sense of superiority, these were not wholly astray in

believing that they had little place in the thoughts or interests of the
occupants of the hill farm. Indifference begat indifference, and now the
lonely, helpless man had neither the power nor the disposition to bridge
the chasm which separated him from those who might have given him
kindly and intelligent aid. He was making a pathetic effort to keep his
home and to prevent his heart from being torn bleeding away from all it
loved. His neighbors thought that he was merely exerting himself to
keep the dollars which it had been the supreme motive of his life to
accumulate.
Giving no thought to the opinions of others, Holcroft only knew that he
was in sore straits--that all which made his existence a blessing was at
stake.
At times, during these lonely and stormy March days, he would dismiss
his anxious speculations in regard to his future course. He was so
morbid, especially at night, that he felt that his wife could revisit the
quiet house. He cherished the hope that she could see him and hear
what he said, and he spoke in her viewless presence with a freedom and
fullness that was unlike his old reticence and habit of repression. He
wondered that he had not said more endearing words and given her
stronger assurance of how much she was to him. Late at night, he
would start out of a long reverie, take a candle, and, going through the
house, would touch what she had touched, and look long and fixedly at
things associated with her. Her gowns still hung in the closet, just as
she had left them; he would take them out and recall the
well-remembered scenes and occasions when they were worn. At such
times, she almost seemed beside him, and he had a consciousness of
companionship which soothed his perturbed spirit. He felt that she
appreciated such loving remembrance, although unable to express her
approval. He did not know it, but his nature was being softened,
deepened, and enriched by these deep and unwonted experiences; the
hard materiality of his life was passing away, rendering him capable of
something better than he had ever known.
In the morning all the old, prosaic problems of his life would return,
with their hard, practical insistence, and he knew that he must decide
upon something very soon. His lonely vigils and days of quiet had
brought him to the conclusion that he could not hunt up a wife as a
matter of business. He would rather face the "ever angry bears" than

breathe the subject of matrimony to any woman that he could ever
imagine himself marrying. He was therefore steadily drifting toward
the necessity of selling everything and going away. This event,
however, was like a coral reef to a sailor, with no land in view beyond
it. The only thing which seemed certain was the general breaking up of
all that had hitherto made his life.
The offer of help came from an unexpected source. One morning
Holcroft received a call from a neighbor who had never before shown
any interest in his affairs. On this occasion, however, Mr. Weeks began
to display so much solicitude that the farmer was not only surprised,
but also a little distrustful. Nothing in his previous knowledge of the
man had prepared the way for such very kindly intervention.
After some general references to the past, Mr. Weeks continued, "I've
been saying to our folks that it was too bad to let you worry on alone
without more neighborly help. You ought either to get married or have
some thoroughly respectable and well-known middle-aged woman keep
house for you. That would stop all talk, and there's been a heap of it, I
can tell you. Of course, I and my folks don't believe anything's been
wrong."
"Believing that something was wrong is about all the attention my
neighbors have given me, as far as I can see," Holcroft remarked
bitterly.
"Well, you see, Holcroft, you've kept yourself so inside your shell that
people don't know what to believe. Now, the thing