The Price She Paid [46]
say--yes, you needn't look shocked, for that's hypocrisy, and I know it now-- But, as I was saying, I didn't begin to HATE him until he tried to make a slave of me. A slave!'' she shuddered. ``He's a monster!''
``A little tact, and you can get everything you want,'' insisted her mother.
``I tell you, you don't know the man,'' cried Mildred. ``By tact I suppose you mean I could have sold things behind his back--and all that.'' She laughed. ``He hasn't got any back. He had it so arranged that those cold, wicked eyes of his were always watching me. His second wife tried `tact.' He caught her and drove her into the streets. I'd have had no chance to get a cent, and if I had gotten it I'd not have dared spend it. Do you imagine I ran away from him without having THOUGHT? If there'd been any way of staying on, any way of making things even endurable, I'd have stayed.''
``But you've got to go back, Milly,'' cried her mother, in tears.
``You mean that you can't support me?''
``And your brother Frank--'' Mrs. Presbury's eyes flashed and her rather stout cheeks quivered. ``I never thought I'd tell anybody, but I'll tell you. I never liked your brother Frank, and he never liked me. That sounds dreadful, doesn't it?''
``No, mother dear,'' said Mildred gently. ``I've learned that life isn't at all as--as everybody pretends.''
``Indeed it isn't,'' said her mother. ``Mothers always have favorites among their children, and very often a mother dislikes one of her children. Of course she hides her feeling and does her duty. But all the same she can't help the feeling that is down in her heart. I had a presentiment before he was born that I wouldn't like him, and sure enough, I didn't. And he didn't like me, or his father, or any of us.''
``It would never occur to me to turn to him,'' said Mildred.
``Then you see that you've got to go back to the general. You can't get a divorce and alimony, for it was you that left him--and for no cause. He was within his rights.''
Mildred hesitated, confessed: ``I had thought of going back to him and acting in such a way that he'd be glad to give me a divorce and an allowance.''
``Yes, you might do that,'' said her mother. ``A great many women do. And, after all, haven't they a right to? A lady has got to have proper support, and is it just to ask her to live with a man she loathes?''
``I haven't thought of the right or wrong of it,'' said Mildred. ``It looks to me as though right and wrong have very little to do with life as it's lived. They're for hypocrites--and fools.''
``Mildred!'' exclaimed her mother, deeply shocked.
Mildred was not a little shocked at her own thoughts as she inspected them in the full light into which speech had dragged them. ``Anyhow,'' she went on, ``I soon saw that such a plan was hopeless. He's not the man to be trifled with. Long before I could drive him to give me a living and let me go he would have driven me to flight or suicide.''
Her mother had now had time to reflect upon Mildred's revelations. Aided by the impressions she herself had gotten of the little general, she began to understand why her daughter had fled and why she would not return. She felt that the situation was one which time alone could solve. Said she: ``Well, the best thing is for you to stay on here and wait until he makes some move.''
``He'll have me watched--that's all he'll do,'' said Mildred. ``When he gets ready he'll divorce me for deserting him.''
Mrs. Presbury felt that she was right. But, concealing her despondency, she said: ``All we can do is to wait and see. You must send for your luggage.''
``I've nothing but a large bag,'' said Mildred. ``I checked it in the parcel-room of the New York station.''
Mrs. Presbury was overwhelmed. How account to Hanging Rock for the reappearance of a baggageless and husbandless bride? But she held up bravely. With a cheerfulness that did credit to her heart and showed how well she loved her daughter she said: ``We must do the best we can. We'll get up some story.''
``A little tact, and you can get everything you want,'' insisted her mother.
``I tell you, you don't know the man,'' cried Mildred. ``By tact I suppose you mean I could have sold things behind his back--and all that.'' She laughed. ``He hasn't got any back. He had it so arranged that those cold, wicked eyes of his were always watching me. His second wife tried `tact.' He caught her and drove her into the streets. I'd have had no chance to get a cent, and if I had gotten it I'd not have dared spend it. Do you imagine I ran away from him without having THOUGHT? If there'd been any way of staying on, any way of making things even endurable, I'd have stayed.''
``But you've got to go back, Milly,'' cried her mother, in tears.
``You mean that you can't support me?''
``And your brother Frank--'' Mrs. Presbury's eyes flashed and her rather stout cheeks quivered. ``I never thought I'd tell anybody, but I'll tell you. I never liked your brother Frank, and he never liked me. That sounds dreadful, doesn't it?''
``No, mother dear,'' said Mildred gently. ``I've learned that life isn't at all as--as everybody pretends.''
``Indeed it isn't,'' said her mother. ``Mothers always have favorites among their children, and very often a mother dislikes one of her children. Of course she hides her feeling and does her duty. But all the same she can't help the feeling that is down in her heart. I had a presentiment before he was born that I wouldn't like him, and sure enough, I didn't. And he didn't like me, or his father, or any of us.''
``It would never occur to me to turn to him,'' said Mildred.
``Then you see that you've got to go back to the general. You can't get a divorce and alimony, for it was you that left him--and for no cause. He was within his rights.''
Mildred hesitated, confessed: ``I had thought of going back to him and acting in such a way that he'd be glad to give me a divorce and an allowance.''
``Yes, you might do that,'' said her mother. ``A great many women do. And, after all, haven't they a right to? A lady has got to have proper support, and is it just to ask her to live with a man she loathes?''
``I haven't thought of the right or wrong of it,'' said Mildred. ``It looks to me as though right and wrong have very little to do with life as it's lived. They're for hypocrites--and fools.''
``Mildred!'' exclaimed her mother, deeply shocked.
Mildred was not a little shocked at her own thoughts as she inspected them in the full light into which speech had dragged them. ``Anyhow,'' she went on, ``I soon saw that such a plan was hopeless. He's not the man to be trifled with. Long before I could drive him to give me a living and let me go he would have driven me to flight or suicide.''
Her mother had now had time to reflect upon Mildred's revelations. Aided by the impressions she herself had gotten of the little general, she began to understand why her daughter had fled and why she would not return. She felt that the situation was one which time alone could solve. Said she: ``Well, the best thing is for you to stay on here and wait until he makes some move.''
``He'll have me watched--that's all he'll do,'' said Mildred. ``When he gets ready he'll divorce me for deserting him.''
Mrs. Presbury felt that she was right. But, concealing her despondency, she said: ``All we can do is to wait and see. You must send for your luggage.''
``I've nothing but a large bag,'' said Mildred. ``I checked it in the parcel-room of the New York station.''
Mrs. Presbury was overwhelmed. How account to Hanging Rock for the reappearance of a baggageless and husbandless bride? But she held up bravely. With a cheerfulness that did credit to her heart and showed how well she loved her daughter she said: ``We must do the best we can. We'll get up some story.''