The Young Wife CHAPTER 18.
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The hope created in the minds of the parents was not a fallacious one. Little Henry's disease proved to be nothing worse than the measles. The reason of his taking it was also accounted for, when another child in the house, whose mother had frequently assumed the charge of him to relieve Mrs. Lawton while Florence was so ill, sickened of the same disease, and it became known that this child had not only been exposed to the infection, but that another child, who was just taking it, had been brought into the house, and had played with him and Henry.
Gradually, both Florence and Henry recovered from their severe illness, for it was severe in both cases, and Mrs. Lawton began to feel the effects of three weeks' almost incessant watchings and painful anxieties, combined with all the inconveniences of her uncomfortable position. During all that time, she had not once been present at the public table, and had thus been spared any encounter with Mrs. Parr and Mrs. Phipps, whose resentment continued unabated. Now, although her children were able to walk about the room, she did not feel inclined to join the family at meal times, but continued to have the little food she required, brought to her room.
"I shall never feel at home here again," she said one day, about this time, to her husband, as she reclined upon the bed, in a weak state from her recent over exertions.
"Do you think that the children could be removed safely?" Mr. Lawton asked.
"Yes, I think so. The weather is warm, and in a carriage there would be no danger of taking cold."
"I will look out, then, for a new home at once," her husband replied.
"I wish you would. For things get more and more unpleasant here. Margaret says that there is a disturbance with the cook or Mrs. Newell every day when she goes to prepare my meals, and those of Florence and Henry. And I am sure, after what has happened, I have no wish to go to the public table again."
The desire to return to housekeeping was strong in the mind of Mrs. Lawton. But as not the slightest allusion to this subject was made by her husband, she hesitated first to introduce it. Enough had transpired since she had left her own well-arranged and commodious home, to convince her that all ideas in reference to superior comfort in a boarding-house, were just a fantasy. The thought of removing any where else than to their own house, was really painful, but she could not find resolution enough to declare this to her husband.
"I will try, Julia," he replied to her last re-mark, "to get another place in a few days, and one, if possible, more pleasant than this."
It was on the third day following this conversation, that Mr. Lawton announced as successful his effort to obtain a new home.
"Where is it? and who keeps the house?" Mrs. Lawton asked.
"It is in East Broadway, and the mistress of the house is a very fine woman, I know."
"Is the situation pleasant?"
"O yes! And we are to have two large, airy chambers; a front and a back one, adjoining each other."
"That will be delightful this warm weather! How much will we have to pay?"
"Not so much as we do here."
"Are there any other families in the house, with children?"
"Not one. So we shall be free from that trouble."
"O, I am so glad of that! But — "
"But what, Julia?" Mr. Lawton asked, seeing that she hesitated.
"I was going to say," she added, while the color rose to her cheeks and forehead — "that — that-"
"That what, Julia?"
"That our own house would have been so much pleasanter."
"Why, Julia!" exclaimed Mr. Lawton, with a look and tone of surprise. "Didn't you desire, of all things, to give up housekeeping?"
"Yes, Frank! And I was foolish enough to persuade and worry you, until you gave in to my weak desire. But sadly enough have I since repented of it. I would give the world, were I again back in that pleasant home we occupied for ten years."
"That is now impossible, Julia. The house has been rented to other tenants, and will, probably, never again shelter us or our little ones. But why didn't you tell me this before I engaged another place?"
"Because I couldn't take heart enough to do it, I felt so mortified at the result of our boarding experiment. But the engagement is surely not binding?"
"I have made it for a year, Julia."
"O why did you do that, Frank! I can never stand it, to live in this way for another year."
"But, you will be much more pleasantly situated than you are now."
"Still, it will not be home — my own home, where I can do as I please. And then the children; poor things! I can't half attend to them in a boarding-house. And they are kept under restraint all the while."
Mr. Lawton did not reply, but walked the room backwards and forwards, in a thoughtful manner, for many minutes. At length pausing, he said,
"Will you be ready to move by tomorrow?"
"O yes. The sooner we can get away from here, the better. Any change is preferable."
"Tomorrow, then, it shall be."
After tea that evening, Mr. Lawton asked to have his bill made out and sent up to his room, as he intended moving on the next day, and wished to pay it in the morning. About nine o'clock, the bill came up.
"How much is it?" asked Mrs. Lawton, as the servant who had brought it in left the room.
"Eighty-five dollars!"
"Eighty-five dollars!"
"Yes, it is eighty-five dollars, and no mistake. But, as it is a bill of items, it will probably explain itself. Let me see. To two weeks boarding, $45."
"But it is only a week since you paid, if I remember rightly."
"It was a week last Saturday. And this is only Tuesday. But here is a memorandum at the bottom, which will no doubt explain the charge. Boarders who have in the middle of a week are always charged for the whole week, the same as if they stayed."
"Well, that is too bad!" exclaimed Mrs. Lawton. "It is "no better than swindling."
"Not much better, as I look at things," replied her husband. "It is a charge for a service not rendered, and made under the plea of a rule which few boarders would feel inclined to dispute."
"But how in the world does she swell the bill up to eighty-five dollars?"
"The next item will explain, I presume. To four weeks' extras for children, and extra trouble for sending Mrs. Lawton's meals to her room, $10 a week, $40. Quite cool and business-like, really."
"But you are not going to pay it?"
"Of course I am. I cannot deny the specifications of the bill, and as there was no contract for the extra services rendered, I am not willing to have any dispute about the exorbitant demand that Mrs. Newell has made."
On the next morning the bill was paid, and immediately after breakfast, furniture-cars were brought, and all the furniture of their chamber and parlor removed.
"As soon as I get our things into the house, I will send a carriage for you, and the children, and Margaret," Mr. Lawton said, as he left his little family, all dressed to go out, in the parlor below. Little Henry, just able to sit up steadily, and feel interested in what was passing around him, was on Margaret's lap, and Florence, still very weak, sat beside her mother, and leaned her head against her.
"Send the carriage soon, father," Florence said.
"In an hour at least," he replied, as he closed the door after him.
It was just an hour after that, the carriage drove up to the door, and full of anticipation at the proposed change, Mrs. Lawton and her little family stepped into it, and in a few minutes were whirling rapidly away. After a drive of about twenty minutes, the carriage stopped at a neat house in East Broadway. Mr. Lawton stood in the door with a smiling face.
"Welcome home again!" he said in a lively tone, as he opened the carriage door, and lifted Florence out in his arms, and then stood holding her, until they were ready to enter the house with him.
In the next minute, all were standing in the midst of two beautifully furnished parlors, Mrs. Lawton, and the children and Margaret glancing around them each with a bewildered air.
"What is the meaning of all this?" Mrs. Lawton asked, in surprise. "Where are we? These are all my things! These are my parlors!"
"O, we are home again! — home again!" exclaimed James, jumping up and down in an ecstasy of delight.
"O, father, is it home?" Florence asked, looking up into her father's face with an earnest appealing look, while the tears started to her eyes — "Is it home, dear father!"
"Yes, my child, it is home once more. Our own home."
"O, I am so glad!"
"And I am glad, dear husband!" Mrs. Lawton said, leaning her head upon his shoulder, and giving way to tears. "How foolish I was, ever to leave my home, in search of that happiness to be found alone within its sacred precincts."
"And I am glad, too," Margaret said.
"I am so glad!" broke in James, still continuing to jump and dance about like an urchin just let loose from school.
"I glad, too," little Henry murmured, raising his head, which had fallen back on to the bosom of Margaret, his little eyes brightening, and his pale cheek warming with a sudden flush.
"So we are all glad together; and may we ever remain so!" Mr. Lawton said, with emotion.
"I shall never again think any household duty to be a hardship," Mrs. Lawton remarked, after the tea things had been cleared away on that evening, and she had seated herself beside her husband on the sofa. "How much I have thought, in the last three or four months, about my former foolish, or, I must call them, wicked complainings. I now understand why our kind friend, Mrs. Emerson, used so frequently and earnestly to urge upon me the necessity of entering into my duties with a willing heart, rather than to seek to avoid them. Had I been influenced by her, rather than by Mrs. Campbell, and one or two like her — how much of that unhappiness, which has found its climax in the last two months, would I have avoided. Dearly, indeed, do we sometimes pay for our wisdom!"
"Never too dearly, however. For a just appreciation of our duties in life, is worth any sacrifice that its attainment may cost."
"I feel that it is. Hereafter, I earnestly hope that my sense of the duty I owe to my husband and family, may never be less acute than now."
Mr. Lawton did not reply. He felt that no precept was needed to enforce the plain, but earnest teachings of real life. And these proved effectual, for, ever after, to Mrs. Lawton there was no place like home; the duties of which, as they were entered into with the right spirit, became more and more delightful.
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