A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY by Edward Payson Roe (red seas under red skies .TXT) 📕

The Wife Of A Man Engaged in a Colossal Business, Weighed more Than All

Her Graces And Ancestral Honors.

Young Haldane'S Employer, Mr. Arnot, Was, Indeed, A Man Of Business And

Method, For The One Absorbed his Very Soul, And The Other Divided his

Life Into Cubes And Right Angles Of Manner And Habit. It Could Scarcely

Be Said That He Had Settled down Into Ruts, For This Would Presuppose

The Passiveness Of A Nature Controlled largely By Circumstances. People

Who Travel In ruts Drop More Often Into Those Made By Others Than Such

As Are Worn By Themselves. Mr. Arnot Moved rather In his Own

Well-Defined grooves, Which He Had Deliberately Furrowed out With His

Own Steely Will. In these He Went Through The Day With The Same Strong,

Relentless Precision Which Characterized the Machinery In his Several

Manufacturing Establishments.

He Was A Man, Too, Who Had Always Had His Own Way, And, As Is Usually

True In such Instances, The Forces Of His Life Had Become Wholly

Centripetal.

The Cosmos Of The Selfish Man Or Woman Is Practically This--Myself The

Centre Of The Universe, And All Things Else Are Near Or Remote, Of Value

Or Otherwise, In accordance With Their Value And Interest To Me.

Measuring By This Scale Of Distances (Which Was The Only Correct One In

The Case Of Mr. Arnot) The Wife Of His Bosom Was Quite A Remote Object.

She Formed no Part Of His Business, And He, In his Hard, Narrow

Worldliness, Could Not Even Understand The Principles And Motives Of Her

Action. She Was A True And Dutiful Wife, And Presided over His Household

With Elegance And Refinement; But He Regarded all This As A Matter Of

Course. He Could Not Conceive Of Anything Else In _His_ Wife. All

His "Subordinates" In their Several Spheres, "Must" Perform Their Duties

With Becoming Propriety. Everything "Must Be Regular And Systematic" In

His House, As Truly As In his Factories And Counting-Room.

Mrs. Arnot Endeavored to Conform To His Peculiarities In this Respect,

And Kept Open The Domestic Grooves In which It Was Necessary To His

Peace That He Should Move Regularly And Methodically. He Had His Meals

At The Hour He Chose, To The Moment, And When He Retired to His

Library--Or, Rather, The Business Office At His House--Not The

Throne-Room Of King ahasuerus Was More Sacred from Intrusion; And Seldom

To His Wife, Even, Was The Sceptre Of Favor And Welcome Held Out, Should

She Venture To Enter.

For A Long Time She Had Tried to Be An Affectionate As Well As A

Faithful Wife, For She Had Married this Man From Love. She Had Mistaken

His Cool Self-Poise For The Calmness And Steadiness Of Strength; And

Women Are Captivated by Strength, And Sometimes By Its Semblance. He Was

Strong; But So Also Are The Driving-Wheels Of An Engine.

There Is An Undefined, Half-Recognized force In nature Which Leads Many

To Seek To Balance Themselves By Marrying Their Opposites In

Temperament. While The General Working Of This Tendency Is, No Doubt,

Beneficent, It Not Unfrequently Brings Together Those Who Are So

Radically Different, That They Cannot Supplement Each Other, But Must

Ever Remain Two Distinct, Unblended lives, That Are In duty Bound To

Obey The Letter Of The Law Of Marriage, But Who Cannot Fulfil Its

Spirit.

For Years Mrs. Arnot Had Sought With All A Woman'S Tact To Consummate

Their Marriage, So That The Mystical Words Of God, "And They Twain Shall

Be One Flesh," Should Describe Their Union; But As Time Passed she Had

Seen Her Task Grow More And More Hopeless. The Controlling Principles Of

Each Life Were Utterly Different. He Was Hardening Into Stone, While The

Dross And Materiality Of Her Nature Were Being Daily Refined away. A

Strong But Wholly Selfish Character Cannot Blend By Giving and Taking,

And Thus Becoming Modified into Something Different And Better. It Can

Only Absorb, And Thus Drag Down To Its Own Condition. Before There Can

Be Unity The Weaker One Must Give Up And Yield Personal Will And

Independence To Such A Degree That It Is Almost Equivalent To Being

Devoured and Assimilated.

But Mr. Arnot Seemed to Grow Too Narrow And Self-Sufficient In his

Nature For Such Spiritual Cannibalism, Even Had His Wife Been A Weak,

Neutral Character, With No Decided and Persistent Individuality Of Her

Own. He Was Not Slow In exacting Outward And Mechanical Service, But He

Had No Time To "Bother" With Her Thoughts, Feelings, And Opinions; Nor

Did He Think It Worth While, To Any Extent, To Lead Her To Reflect Only

His Feelings And Opinions. Neither She Nor Any One Else Was Very

Essential To Him. His Business _Was_ Necessary, And He Valued it Even

More Than The Wealth Which Resulted from It. He Grew Somewhat Like His

Machinery, Which Needed attention, But Which Cherished no Sentiments

Toward Those Who Waited on It During Its Hours Of Motion.

Thus, Though Not Deliberately Intending It, His Manner Toward His Wife

Had Come To Be More And More The Equivalent Of A Steady Black Frost, And

She At Last Feared that The Man Had Congealed or Petrified to His Very

Heart'S Core.

While The Only Love In mr. Arnot'S Heart Was Self-Love, Even In this

There Existed no Trace Of Weak Indulgence And Tenderness. His Life

Consisted in making His Vast And Complicated business Go Forward

Steadily, Systematically, And Successfully; And He Would Not Permit That

Entity Known As Thomas Arnot To Thwart Him Any More Than He Would Brook

Opposition Or Neglect In his Office-Boy. All Things, Even Himself, Must

Bend To The Furtherance Of His Cherished objects.

But, Whatever Else Was Lacking, Mr. Arnot Had A Profound Respect For His

Wife. First And Chiefly, She Was Wealthy, And He, Having Control Of Her

Property, Made It Subservient To His Business. He Had Chafed at First

Against What He Termed her "Sentimental Ways Of Doing Good" And Her

"Ridiculous Theories," But In these Matters He Had Ever Found Her As

Gentle As A Woman, But As Unyielding as Granite. She Told Him Plainly

That Her Religious Life And Its Expression Were Matters Between Herself

And God--That It Was A Province Into Which His Cast-Iron System And

Material Philosophy Could Not Enter. He Grumbled at Her Large Charities,

And Declared that She "Turned their Dwelling Into A Club-House For Young

Men"; But She Followed her Conscience With Such A Quiet, Unswerving

Dignity That He Found No Pretext For Interference. The Money She Gave

Away Was Her Own, And Fortunately, The House To Which It Was Her Delight

To Draw Young Men From Questionable And Disreputable Places Of Resort

Had Been Left To Her By Her Father. Though She Did Not Continually

Remind Her Husband Of These Facts, As An Under-Bred woman Might Have

Done, Her Manner Was So Assured and Unhesitating That He Was Compelled

To Recognize Her Rights, And To See That She Was Fully Aware Of Them

Also. Since She Yielded so Gracefully And Considerately All And More

Than He Could Justly Claim, He Finally Concluded to Ignore What He

Regarded as Her "Peculiarities." As For Himself, He Had No

Peculiarities. He Was A "Practical, Sensible Man, With No Nonsense About

Him."

Mrs. Haldane Had Been In such Sore Straits And Perplexity About Her Son

That She Overcame Her Habitual Reserve Upon Family And Personal Matters,

And Wrote To Her Friend A Long And Confidential Letter, In which She

Fully Described the "Mysterious Providence" Which Was Clouding Her Life.

Mrs. Arnot Had Long Been Aware Of Her Friend'S Infirmity, And More Than

Once Had Sought With Delicacy And Yet With Faithfulness To Open Her Eyes

To The Consequences Of Her Indulgence. But Mrs. Haldane, Unfortunately,

Was Incapable Of Taking a Broad, And Therefore Correct, View Of

Anything. She Was Governed far More By Her Prejudices And Feelings Than

By Reason Or Experience, And The Emotion Or Prejudice Uppermost Absorbed

Her Mind So Completely As To Exclude All Other Considerations. Her

Friendship For Mrs. Arnot Had Commenced at School, But The Two Ladies

Had Developed so Differently That The Relation Had Become More A

Cherished memory Of The Happy Past Than A Congenial Intimacy Of Their

Maturer Life.

The "Mysterious Providence" Of Which Mrs. Haldane Wrote Was To Mrs.

Arnot A Legitimate And Almost Inevitable Result. But, Now That The

Mischief Had Been Accomplished, She Was The Last One In the World To Say

To Her Friend, "I Told You So." To Her Mind The Providential Feature In

The Matter Was The Chance That Had Come To Her Of Counteracting The Evil

Which The Mother Had Unconsciously Developed. This Opportunity Was In

The Line Of Her Most Cherished plan And Hope Of Usefulness, As Will Be

Hereafter Seen, And She Had Lost No Time In persuading Her Husband To

Give Haldane Employment In his Counting-Room. She Also Secured his

Consent That The Youth Should Become A Member Of The Family, For A Time

At Least. Mr. Arnot Yielded these Points Reluctantly, For It Was A Part

Of His Policy To Have No More Personal Relations With His _Employes_

Than With His Machinery. He Wished them To Feel That They Were Merely A

Part Of His System, And That The Moment Any One Did Not Work Regularly

And Accurately He Must Be Cast Aside As Certainly As A Broken Or

Defective Wheel. But As His Wife'S Health Made Her Practically A Silent

Partner In his Vast Business, He Yielded--Though With Rather Ill Grace,

And With A Prediction That It "Would Not Work Well."

Haldane Was Aware That His Mother Had Written A Long Letter To Mrs.

Arnot, And He Supposed that His Employer And His Wife Had Thus Become

Acquainted with All His Misdeeds. He, Therefore, Rather Dreaded to Meet

Those Who Must, From The First, Regard Him As A Graceless And Difficult

Subject, That Could Not Be Managed at Home. But, With The Characteristic

Recklessness Of Young Men Who Have Wealth To Fall Back Upon, He Had

Fortified himself By Thoughts Like The Following:

"If They Do Not Treat Me Well, Or Try To Put Me Into A Straight-Jacket,

Or If I Find The Counting-House Too Dull, I Can Bid Them Good-Morning

Whenever I Choose."

But Mrs. Arnot'S Frank And Cordial Reception Was An Agreeable Surprise.

He Arrived quite Late In the Evening, And She Had A Delightful Little

Lunch Brought To Him In her Private Parlor. By The Time It Was Eaten Her

Graceful Tact Had Banished all Stiffness And Sense Of Strangeness, And

He Found Himself Warming Into Friendliness Toward One Whom He Had

Especially Dreaded as A "Remarkably Pious Lady"--For Thus His Mother Had

Always Spoken Of Her.

It Was Scarcely Strange That He Should Be Rapidly Disarmed by This Lady,

Who Cannot Be Described in a Paragraph. Though Her Face Was Rather

Plain, It Was So Expressive Of Herself That It Seldom Failed to

Fascinate. Nature Can Do Much To Render A Countenance Attractive, But

Character Accomplishes Far More. The Beauty Which Is Of Feature Merely

Catches The Careless, Wandering Eye. The Beauty Which Is The Reflex Of

Character _Holds_ The Eye, And Eventually Wins The Heart. Those Who

Knew Mrs. Arnot Best Declared that, Instead Of Growing Old And Homely,

She Was Growing More Lovely Every Year. Her Dark Hair Had Turned gray

Early, And Was Fast Becoming Snowy White. For Some Years After Her

Marriage She Had Grown Old Very Fast. She Had Dwelt, As It Were, On The

Northern Side Of An Iceberg, And In her Vain Attempt To Melt And

Humanize It, Had Almost Perished herself. As The Earthly Streams And

Rills That Fed her Life Congealed, She Was Led to Accept Of The Love Of

God, And The Long Arctic Winter Of Her Despair Passed gradually Away.

She Was Now Growing Young Again. A Faint Bloom Was Dawning In her

Cheeks, And Her Form Was Gaming That Fulness Which Is Associated with

The Maturity Of Middle Age. Her Bright Black Eyes Were The Most

Attractive And Expressive Feature Which She Possessed, And They Often

Seemed gifted with Peculiar Powers.

As They Beamed upon The Young Man They Had Much The Same Effect As The

Anthracite Coals Which Glowed in the Grate, And He Began To Be Conscious

Of Some Disposition To Give Her His Confidence.

Having Dismissed the Servant With The Lunch Tray, She Caused him To Draw

His Chair Sociably Up To The Fire, And Said, Without Any Circumlocution:

"Mr. Haldane, Perhaps This Is The Best Time For Us To Have A Frank Talk

In Regard To The Future."

The Young Man Thought That This Was The Preface For Some Decided

Criticism Of The Past, And His Face Became A Little Hard And Defiant.

But In this He Was Mistaken, For The Lady Made No Reference To His

Faults, Of Which She Had Been Informed by His Mother. She Spoke In a

Kindly But Almost In a Business-Like Way Of His Duties In the

Counting-Room, And Of The Domestic Rules Of The Household, To Which He

Would Be Expected to Conform. She Also Spoke