National Avenue · Chapter 15 (2/2)

“Well, to me, of course; but I mean mother, too, though she’s never said anything about it. We’ve all been as fond of Martha all her life as if she was one of our own family, and, for instance, I think mother was probably a little worried because she thought she’d better not invite her tonight, on your account. What I mean, though, is that I probably mightn’t have told you about our goin’ in to see her that night, even if I had thought of it afterwards, because as I knew how you felt about her I’d have been afraid of it’s gettin’ you into one of these upsetnesses. I guess I’d have been right, too,” he added, with a rueful laugh. “Somebody’s told you about it, and you have got into one.”

“How kind of you! So you admit you went running to her the minute the baby was born, and yet you knew perfectly well how I felt about her.”

“Well⁠—I knew how unreasonably you felt about her.”

“ ‘Unreasonably?’ ” Lena cried shrilly. “What a wise little word! When you told her she was the only woman in the world who understands you!”

“No, no! I don’t care who understands me,” Dan protested unhappily. “I meant she was the only one that would understand what I was sayin’ about the baby. I just had to talk about him, and she always understands anything at a time like that⁠—or any time, for that matter. She⁠—”

“Go on!” Lena said. “Go on making it worse!”

“But I’m only tryin’ to explain how⁠—”

“Explain this, then! You told her you wanted my child to grow up to be like her.”

“Why, yes,” Dan said reasonably. “I didn’t mean to look like her; I only meant I hoped he’d have her qualities. Anybody that knows Martha would feel that way, Lena. Why, except my own father and mother, she’s the most even-tempered, understanding, helpful kind of person I ever knew in my life. Why, everybody in town looks up to her just the same as I do, and anybody’d have said that to her, Lena. You would yourself, if you had only not let yourself get prejudiced against her about nothin’ at all and just been sensible enough to really get acquainted with her.”

Lena stood before him rigidly, except for the trembling, which had increased a little. “Tell me another thing,” she said. “When a young wife becomes a mother, does her husband ever consult her before inviting a woman she doesn’t like to act as godmother for the child?”

Dan got up and began to pace the room, his face reddening with a prophetic distress. “Oh, golly!” he groaned. “You’re goin’ to object to it. I see that now!”

“You do see it, do you? How remarkable!”

He turned to her appealingly. “Look here, Lena; I did speak about it to her too soon. Of course I ought to’ve consulted you first;⁠—I was just so enthusiastic about bein’ the boy’s father, and she’s such a dear, good, old friend⁠—well, I guess I was excited. I know I ought to’ve waited and asked you who you wanted⁠—but I didn’t. I did just blurt out and ask her, so it’s done and can’t be helped. Well, I can’t go back on it; I can’t go over there and just plain tell her you don’t want her!”

“Can’t you?” Lena said. “It doesn’t matter to me what you tell her.”

“You’re not goin’ to make me, are you?” he asked piteously.

“No. Tell her anything you like.”

Mistaking this icy permission, he uttered an almost vociferous sigh of relief. “Well, I do truly thank you, Lena. If you’re noble enough to overlook my selfishness in not thinkin’ about who you’d want to have for Henry’s godmother⁠—well, my goodness, I am grateful to you, and I know it’s more’n I deserve. It’s a noble action on your part, and I’m sure it’s goin’ to lead to splendid results, because now you can’t help but get better acquainted with Martha, and you’ll do what I’ve hoped for so long: you’ll get to likin’ her and thinkin’ as much of her as everybody else does. With her in that relation⁠—”

“In what relation?”

“In the relation of the baby’s godmother. From the very day of the christening you’ll⁠—”

“There may not be any such day,” Lena interrupted. “You seem to have mistaken me. There may not be any christening⁠—at least not here. If she’s to be the godmother, the baby and I will be with my own family in New York.”

“Oh, golly!” Dan said, and sank down on the side of the bed again. “Oh, golly!”

Lena became vehement. “I should think you would say ‘golly’! If you had a spark of remorse in you, I think you’d say more than that!”

“Remorse? I don’t see⁠—”

“You don’t?” she cried. “You don’t see what you have to be remorseful for? You bring me out here to the life you’ve given me, and you see nothing to regret? You bring me to this flat town and its flat people, where not once in months can I hear a note of real music and where there’s no art and no beauty and no life⁠—after you’d given me your word I should have a full year in Europe!⁠—and you watch me struggling to bear it, to bear it with the best bravery I have in me, and the most kindness to you⁠—and to be cheerful⁠—and I dare you to say I haven’t made the best of it! I have⁠—and how hard I’ve had to try most of the time to accomplish it! And what have you been? Who was the man I found I’d married? Even in this hole of a town he’s called a failure⁠—the town failure! That’s who you got me to marry! Even these people out here⁠—your own people⁠—even they take you as a joke⁠—the town joke! And when I make the best of it I can and bear it the best I can, and go on, month after month, not complaining, and suffer what I suffered when the baby came, you go gayly over to the woman whose hand you held the very first day I came here⁠—yes, you did!⁠—and the woman you’ve compared me to unfavourably every time you’ve ever dared to speak of me to her⁠—yes, you have; every single time!⁠—and you ask her to come and be the godmother to my child! You can go over there and tell her anything you like⁠—tell her again you want my baby to be like her⁠—but there’s one thing you’d better tell her besides, and that is, there won’t be any christening if she comes to it!”

She ran out, the closing of the door reverberating eloquently through the house; and Dan remained seated upon the side of the bed, his head between his hands. It was by no means the first time he had remained in that position when Lena slammed the door.