CHAPTER XIII.“Thus repuls’d, our final hopeIs flat despair.”During the week that Robert was trying to choose his path for life, Mrs. Malloy watched him with anxious, loving eyes, conscious of his struggle, herself elated and depressed according to the moods his face reflected.On the morning of the day he called on Meg, he had gone to his mother, and nestling at her feet as had been his habit since his early childhood, had leaned his head against her knee. She laid her hand caressingly on his head, as though inviting him to speak.With averted eyes, and a manner he strove to make careless, he said, “Dear Mother mine, would you despise me for a weak, shilly-shally sort of creature if—” he hesitated a moment,—“if I should, after all, alter the plan of my life and not go into the monastery?”Her face was transfigured, but she answered calmly, realizing fully that it was delicate ground upon which they were treading: “Of course I would not, dear. Whatever is for your happiness is that which I desire. And no one, not even a mother, can decide for you.”He reached up, and pulling her hand down, kissed it reverently. And then she said softly: “While my boy was little I guided him through the shoals, avoiding the rocks, and I longed,—oh,howI longed to be always at the helm, to keep his boat in the still, deep waters. But I realized that it would be no kindness to have him depend on me alone for guidance. I would grow old,—my hand would lose its cunning, my eyes their keenness of vision,—or I would have to leave him altogether—”He kissed her hand again, in protest. “Old age and death have nothing in common with my young mother,” he whispered.She smiled sadly as she shook her head. “Nevertheless, one must always be prepared. At any rate, I taught you how to steer your own boat, my boy.”“Then you desert the ship, do you, O most wise woman?” he asked gayly.“I but abdicate the captaincy,” she replied in the same strain.When he left the house to make his call, there was something in his bearing which would have convinced his mother, even without their previous conversation, that his decision was made and that he went to put his life in the hands of the one woman in the world she would have chosen for him. Her heart was light, for she had no doubt as to the outcome.Mr. Spencer came in singing, “Hail to the chief who in triumph advances,” and then, seeing his sister, he stopped abruptly and said, “I told you so.”“You think he has gone to put his fate ‘to the test, to win or lose it all?’”“Did you see the set of his shoulders as he left the house?” demanded her brother, and then, without waiting for a reply, he continued: “You can’t fool me. I know the signs of the zodiac. It’s the full of the moon, that part of the month when it gets into a fellow’s blood, and he forgets everything except that here is the one being he loves. Why, Stella, I’d have been infected with that same fever every full moon for forty years, if I hadn’t been vaccinated.”Mrs. Malloy laughed heartily, and then he said, more earnestly: “Robert will be a lucky man to win that girl. I’ve known her for so long, and have been so fond of her, that nothing but my age prevents my stepping in now and interfering with Robert. The first time I ever saw her,” he continued reminiscently, “she was a mere child, a quaint red-headed little thing, with a world of tragedy in her big eyes. That was a few months after she had lost her father. She had replied to a question of her aunt’s, simply ‘yes,’—and Mrs. Weston was striving to make her say ‘yes, ma’am.’”“Which won?” Mrs. Malloy asked idly.“I don’t know. The last I saw of them they were walking down the street, Mrs. Weston dragging her along and saying, ‘Youwon’tsay “Yes, ma’am,” to me! Well, I’ll teach you some manners if you live with me!’ But as I have never since heard Meg say ‘Yes, ma’am,’ I have an idea that she won the day.”When Robert returned, he sought his mother and said briefly: “Another hand than mine has turned the boat back into the still waters of the monastery. My novitiate begins in six weeks. Let us leave here in a few days, that we may spend the remainder of the time alone together.”All the glory had departed from her face, and she only nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“Thus repuls’d, our final hope
Is flat despair.”
During the week that Robert was trying to choose his path for life, Mrs. Malloy watched him with anxious, loving eyes, conscious of his struggle, herself elated and depressed according to the moods his face reflected.
On the morning of the day he called on Meg, he had gone to his mother, and nestling at her feet as had been his habit since his early childhood, had leaned his head against her knee. She laid her hand caressingly on his head, as though inviting him to speak.
With averted eyes, and a manner he strove to make careless, he said, “Dear Mother mine, would you despise me for a weak, shilly-shally sort of creature if—” he hesitated a moment,—“if I should, after all, alter the plan of my life and not go into the monastery?”
Her face was transfigured, but she answered calmly, realizing fully that it was delicate ground upon which they were treading: “Of course I would not, dear. Whatever is for your happiness is that which I desire. And no one, not even a mother, can decide for you.”
He reached up, and pulling her hand down, kissed it reverently. And then she said softly: “While my boy was little I guided him through the shoals, avoiding the rocks, and I longed,—oh,howI longed to be always at the helm, to keep his boat in the still, deep waters. But I realized that it would be no kindness to have him depend on me alone for guidance. I would grow old,—my hand would lose its cunning, my eyes their keenness of vision,—or I would have to leave him altogether—”
He kissed her hand again, in protest. “Old age and death have nothing in common with my young mother,” he whispered.
She smiled sadly as she shook her head. “Nevertheless, one must always be prepared. At any rate, I taught you how to steer your own boat, my boy.”
“Then you desert the ship, do you, O most wise woman?” he asked gayly.
“I but abdicate the captaincy,” she replied in the same strain.
When he left the house to make his call, there was something in his bearing which would have convinced his mother, even without their previous conversation, that his decision was made and that he went to put his life in the hands of the one woman in the world she would have chosen for him. Her heart was light, for she had no doubt as to the outcome.
Mr. Spencer came in singing, “Hail to the chief who in triumph advances,” and then, seeing his sister, he stopped abruptly and said, “I told you so.”
“You think he has gone to put his fate ‘to the test, to win or lose it all?’”
“Did you see the set of his shoulders as he left the house?” demanded her brother, and then, without waiting for a reply, he continued: “You can’t fool me. I know the signs of the zodiac. It’s the full of the moon, that part of the month when it gets into a fellow’s blood, and he forgets everything except that here is the one being he loves. Why, Stella, I’d have been infected with that same fever every full moon for forty years, if I hadn’t been vaccinated.”
Mrs. Malloy laughed heartily, and then he said, more earnestly: “Robert will be a lucky man to win that girl. I’ve known her for so long, and have been so fond of her, that nothing but my age prevents my stepping in now and interfering with Robert. The first time I ever saw her,” he continued reminiscently, “she was a mere child, a quaint red-headed little thing, with a world of tragedy in her big eyes. That was a few months after she had lost her father. She had replied to a question of her aunt’s, simply ‘yes,’—and Mrs. Weston was striving to make her say ‘yes, ma’am.’”
“Which won?” Mrs. Malloy asked idly.
“I don’t know. The last I saw of them they were walking down the street, Mrs. Weston dragging her along and saying, ‘Youwon’tsay “Yes, ma’am,” to me! Well, I’ll teach you some manners if you live with me!’ But as I have never since heard Meg say ‘Yes, ma’am,’ I have an idea that she won the day.”
When Robert returned, he sought his mother and said briefly: “Another hand than mine has turned the boat back into the still waters of the monastery. My novitiate begins in six weeks. Let us leave here in a few days, that we may spend the remainder of the time alone together.”
All the glory had departed from her face, and she only nodded, not trusting herself to speak.