Flora Lyndsay Volume I Part 3

"Mrs. Lyndsay," she was wont to say, when that lady was absent, "is a young person of some literary taste, and with the advice and a.s.sistance of a friend (herself of course) she may one day become an accomplished woman."

Lyndsay was highly amused at the league, offensive and defensive, carried on by his wife and Mrs. Ready, who was the only _blue stocking_ in the place; and he was wont to call her Flora's Mrs. _Grundy_.

But _Mrs. Grundy_ is already in the room, and Flora has risen to meet her, and proffer the usual meaningless salutations of the day. To these her visitor returns no answer, overwhelmed as she is with astonishment and grief.

"Mrs. Lyndsay!" she exclaimed, sinking into the easy chair placed for her accommodation, and lifting up her hands in a tragic ecstasy-"Is it true-true, that you are going to leave us? I cannot believe it; it is so absurd-so ridiculous-the idea of your going to Canada. Do tell me that I am misinformed; that it is one of old Kitson's idle pieces of gossip; for really I have not been well since I heard it."

Mrs. Ready paused for breath, and applied her handkerchief to her eyes.

Flora remained silent and embarra.s.sed. What could she say? She placed no confidence in the grief of the weeping lady, and despised the affectation of her tears-till she gasped forth-

"Do not leave me in suspense; I would rather hear the truth at once. Are you really going to Canada?"

"I believe so. That is, if no untoward circ.u.mstances arise to prevent it."

"Good heavens!-And you can regard such a dreadful event with such stoical indifference? Why does not your mother exert her authority, to make you give up such a mad project?"

"My mother would never interfere with my husband's wishes, particularly when she considers them reasonable, and knows that no real objections can be offered on the subject."

"But think of the dreadful sacrifice!"

"Such sacrifices are made every day. Emigration, Mrs. Ready, is a matter of necessity, not of choice. Mr. Lyndsay thinks it necessary for us to take this step, and I have no doubt that he is right. Did I consult my own feelings, I should certainly prefer staying at home."

"Of course you would, and you affect this unconcern on purpose to hide an aching heart. My dear, you cannot deceive me; I see through it all. I pity you, my sweet friend; I sympathise with you, from my very soul; I know what your _real_ feelings are; I can realize it all."

Flora remained silent. She certainly did wish that Mrs. Ready occupied any other place in the United Kingdom at that moment than the comfortable seat in her easy chair. But what could she do? She could not inform the lady that she was tired of her company, and wished to be alone. That would be considered an act of ill-breeding of the most flagrant description; in common courtesy she was compelled to act a lie.

Rather irritated at the small impression her eloquence had made upon her companion, Mrs. Ready removed the cambric screen from her face, on which not a trace of grief could be found, and clasping her hands vehemently together, continued,-

"Your husband is mad, to draw you away from all your friends at a moment's warning! I would remonstrate-I would not go; I would exert a proper spirit, and force him to abandon this Quixotic expedition."

"You speak hastily, Mrs. Ready. Why should I attempt to prevent an undertaking in which I most cordially concur, and which Mr. Lyndsay thinks would greatly benefit his family?"

"Nonsense! I hate, I repudiate such pa.s.sive obedience, as beneath the dignity of woman! I am none of your soft bread-and-b.u.t.ter wives, who consider it their _duty_ to become the mere _echo_ of their husbands.

If _I_ did not wish to go, no tyrannical lord of the creation, falsely so called, should compel me to act against my inclinations."

"Compulsion is not necessary: on this subject we both agree."

"Oh, yes, I see how it is!" with a contemptuous curl of the lip, "you aspire to the character of a good, dutiful wife,-to become an example of enduring patience to all the refractory conjugals in the place, myself among the rest. I understand it all. How _amiable_ some people can be at the expense of others!"

Flora was thunderstruck. "Indeed, Mrs. Ready, I meant no reflection upon you. My words had no personal meaning; I never talk _at_ any one."

"Oh, certainly not! You are not aware," with a strong sneer, "of the differences that exist between Mr. Ready and me (and which will continue to exist, as long as mind claims a superiority over matter); that we are only husband and wife in name. But I forgive you."

"You have nothing to forgive, Mrs. Ready," said Flora, indignantly; "I never trouble my head with your private affairs-they cannot possibly concern me."

This gave rise to a scene. Mrs. Ready, who lived in an element of strife, delighted in scenes.

"Oh, no," she continued, eagerly clutching at Flora's last words, "you are _too_ selfishly engrossed with your own happiness to have the least sympathy for the sorrows of a friend. Ah, well!-It's early days with you _yet_! Let a few short years of domestic care pa.s.s over your head, and all this honey will be changed to gall. Matrimony is matrimony, and husbands are husbands, and wives will strive to have their own way-ay, and will fight to get it too. You will then find, Mrs. Lyndsay, that very little of the sugar of love, and all such romantic stuff, remains to sweeten your cup; and in the bitterness of your soul, you will think of me."

"If this is true," said Flora, "who would marry?"

"It is true in my case."

"But fortunately there are exceptions to every rule."

"Humph!-This is another compliment, Mrs. Lyndsay, at my expense."

"Mrs. Ready, I do not wish to quarrel with you; but you seem determined to take all my words amiss."

A long silence ensued,-Mrs. Ready smoothed down her ruffled plumes, and said, in a pitying, patronising tone, very common to her-

"You will be disgusted with Canada: we shall see you back in less than twelve months."

"Not very likely, if I know anything of John and myself."

"What will you do for society?"

Flora thought, solitude would be a luxury and Mrs. Ready away-and she answered, carelessly, "We must be content with what Providence sends us."

"Ah! but you may be miles from any habitation. No church-no schools for the children-no markets-no medical attendant-and with your poor health-think of that, Mrs. Lyndsay! And worse, far worse, no friends to sympathise and condole with you, in distress and difficulty."

Now Flora was answering all these objections in her own mind; and, quite forgetful of Mrs. Ready's presence, she unconsciously uttered her thoughts aloud-"These may be evils, but we shall at least be spared the annoyance of disagreeable visitors."

Imprudent Flora-to think aloud before such a woman as Mrs. Ready. Who will venture to excuse such an eccentric proceeding? Would not the whole world blame you for your incorrigible blunder? It had, however, one good effect. It quickly cleared the room of your intrusive guest; who swept out of the apartment with a haughty "Good morning." And well she might be offended; she had accidentally heard the truth, which no one else in the town dared have spoken boldly out.

Flora was astonished at her want of caution. She knew, however, that it was useless to apologise; and she felt perfectly indifferent as to the result; for she did not care, if she never saw Mrs. Ready again; and such a decided affront would render that event something more than doubtful.

"Thank heaven! she is gone," burst heartily from her lips, when she found herself once more alone.

It was impossible for Mrs. Lyndsay to contemplate leaving England without great pain. The subject was so distressing to her feelings, that she endeavoured to forget it as much as she could. The manner in which it had been forced upon her by Mrs. Ready, was like probing a deep wound with a jagged instrument; and after that lady's departure, she covered her face with her hands, and wept long and bitterly.

CHAPTER V.

THE TRUE FRIEND.

Flora Lyndsay was aroused from the pa.s.sionate indulgence of grief by two arms being pa.s.sed softly around her neck, and some one pulling her head gently back upon their shoulder, and kissing her forehead.

"Flora," whispered a sweet, gentle woman's voice; "Dear Flora. I am come home at last. What, no word of welcome? No kiss for Mary? In tears, too.

What is the matter? Are you ill? Is the baby ill? No-she at least is sleeping sweetly, and looks full of rosy health. Do speak, and tell me the meaning of all this!"

Flora was in the arms of her friend before she had ceased speaking. "A thousand welcomes! dear Mary. You are the very person I most wished just now to see. The very sight of you is an antidote to grief. 'A remedy for sore eyes,' as the Irish say. You have been too long away. When did you arrive?"

"By the mail-about an hour ago."