“You don't care,” she sobbed. “You don't care for me at all. All you care about is just yourself. You're willing to stay here in this awful place, you're willing to plod along just as you always have; and it doesn't make any difference about my wishes or my hopes, or anything. If you were like most husbands you'd be proud and glad to see me getting on in the world; you'd be glad to give me the chance to be somebody; you'd--”
“There! there! Serena, don't talk so. I'd do anything in this world to please you.”
“Hush! hush! I should think you'd be ashamed to say such things. I should think you'd be AFRAID to say them, afraid something would happen to you--you'd be struck down or something. Oh, well! I must be resigned, I suppose. I must give in, just as I always do. I must be satisfied to be miserable and--and--Oh, what shall I do? What SHALL I do?”
Sobs and more sobs, frantic clutchings at the sofa pillows and declarations that she had better die; it would be better for her and ever so much better for everyone else if she were dead. No one would care.
Poor Daniel, distressed and remorseful, vaguely conscious that he was right, but conscience stricken nevertheless, hoisted the white flag.
“Hush, hush, Serena!” he pleaded. “Land sakes, don't say such things--please don't. I'll do anything you want, of course I will. I'll go to Scarford, if you say so. I was just--”
“I don't ask you to go there forever. I never have asked that. I only ask you to go there and live a while and just see how we like it. That was all I asked, and you knew it. But you won't! you won't!”
“Why, yes I will, too. I'll go--go next week, if you say so. I--I just--”
He got no further. Mrs. Dott, wet-eyed but radiant, lifted her head from the sofa pillow and threw her arms about his neck.
“Will you?” she cried ecstatically. “Will you, Daniel? I knew you would. You're a dear, good man and I love you better than all the world. We will be so happy. You see if we aren't.”
The captain was no less doubtful of the happiness than he had ever been, but he tried to smile and to find comfort in the thought that she was happy if he was not.
He had written Gertrude telling of her mother's new notion and asking for advice and counsel. The reply, which came by return mail, did not cheer him as much as he had hoped.