By the Light of the Soul Part 17

"You were very kind, sweetheart," Harry said, and again a flood of grat.i.tude seemed to sweeten life for the man.

Ida took another step in her sequence.

"I think Maria had better stay up, if they do come," said she. "She enjoys music so much. She can keep on her new gown. Maria is so careful of her gowns that I never feel any anxiety about her soiling them."

"She is just like--" began Harry, then he stopped. He had been about to state that Maria was just like her mother in that respect, but he had remembered suddenly that he was speaking to his second wife.

However, Ida finished his remark for him with perfect good-nature.

She had not the slightest jealousy of Harry's first wife, only a sort of contempt, that she had gotten so little where she herself had gotten so much.

"Maria's own mother was very particular, wasn't she, dear?" she said.

"Very," replied Harry.

"Maria takes it from her, without any doubt," Ida said, smoothly.

"She looked so sweet in that new gown to-day, that I would like to have the Adamses see her without her coat to-night; and Maria looks even prettier without her hat, too, her hair grows so prettily on her temples. Maria grows lovelier every day, it seems to me. I don't know how many I saw looking at her in church this morning."

"Yes, she is going to be pretty, I guess," said Harry, and again his very soul seemed warm and light with pleasure and grat.i.tude.

"She _is_ pretty," said Ida, conclusively. "She is at the awkward age, too. But there is no awkwardness about Maria. She is like a little fairy."

Harry beamed upon her. "She is as proud as punch when she gets a chance to take the little one out, and they made a pretty picture going down the street," said he, "but I hope she won't catch cold. Is that new suit warm?"

"Oh yes! it is interlined. I looked out for that."

"You look out for my child as if she were your own, bless you, dear,"

Harry said, affectionately.

Then Ida thought that the time for her carefully-led-up-to coup had arrived. "I try to," said she, meekly.

"You _do_."

Ida began to speak, then she hesitated, with timid eyes on her husband's face.

"What is it, dear?" asked he.

"Well, I have been thinking a good deal lately about Maria and her a.s.sociates in school here."

"Why, what is the matter with them?" Harry asked, uneasily.

"Oh, I don't know that there is anything very serious the matter with them, but Maria is at an age when she is very impressible, and there are many who are not exactly desirable. There is Gladys Mann, for instance. I saw Maria walking down the street with her the other day.

Now, Harry, you know that Gladys Mann is not exactly the kind of girl whom Maria's own mother would have chosen for an intimate friend for her."

"You are right," Harry said, frowning.

"Well, I have been thinking over the number of pupils of both s.e.xes in the school who can be called degenerates, either in mind or morals, and I must say I was alarmed."

"Well, what is to be done?" asked Harry, moodily. "Maria must go to school, of course."

"Yes, of course, Maria must have a good education, as good as if her own mother had lived."

"Well, what is to be done, then?"

Then Ida came straight to the point. "The only way I can see is to remove her from doubtful a.s.sociates."

"Remove her?" repeated Harry, blankly.

"Yes; send her away to school. Wellbridge Hall, in Emerson, where I went myself, would be a very good school. It is not expensive."

Harry stared. "But, Ida, she is too young."

"Not at all."

"You were older when you went there."

"A little older."

"How far is Emerson from here?"

"Only a night's journey from New York. You go to sleep in your berth, and in the morning you are there. You could always see her off. It is very easy."

"Send Maria away! Ida, it is out of the question. Aside from anything else, there is the expense. I am living up to my income as it is."

"Oh," said Ida--she gave her head a n.o.ble toss, and spoke impressively--"I am prepared to go without myself to make it possible for you to meet her bills. You know I spoke the other day of a new lace dress. Well, that would cost at least a hundred; I will go without that. And I wanted some new portieres for my room; I will go without them. That means, say, fifty more. And you know the dining-room rug looks very shabby. I was thinking we must have an Eastern rug, which would cost at least one hundred and fifty; I thought it would pay in the end. Well, I am prepared to give that up and have a domestic, which only costs twenty-five; that is a hundred and twenty-five more saved. And I had planned to have my seal-skin coat made over after Christmas, and you know you cannot have seal-skin touched under a hundred; there is a hundred more. There are three hundred and seventy-five saved, which will pay for Maria's tuition for a year, and enough over for travelling expenses." Nothing could have exceeded the expression of lofty virtue of Ida Edgham when she concluded her speech. As for her own selfish considerations, those, as always, she thought of only as her duty. Ida established always a clear case of conscience in all her dealings for her own interests.

But Harry continued to frown. The childish droop of his handsome mouth became more p.r.o.nounced. "I don't like the idea," he said, quite st.u.r.dily for him.

"Suppose we leave it to Maria," said Ida.

"I really think," said Harry, in almost a fretful tone, "that you exaggerate. I hardly think there is anything so very objectionable about her a.s.sociates here. I will admit that many of the children come from what we call the poor whites, but after all their main vice is s.h.i.+ftlessness, and Maria is not very likely to become contaminated with that."

"Why, Harry, my dear, that is the very least of their vices."

"What else?"

"Why, you know that they are notoriously light-fingered."

"My dear Ida, you don't mean to say that you think Maria--"

"Why, of course not, Harry, but aside from that, their morals."

Harry rose from his chair and walked across the room nervously.

"My dear Ida," he said, "you are exaggerating now. Maria is simply not that kind of a girl; and, besides, I don't know that she does see so much of those people, anyway."

"Gladys Mann--"

"Well, I never heard any harm of that poor little runt. On the other side, Ida, I should think Maria's influence over her for good was to be taken into consideration."