The Heart of Rachael - Page 34/76

Rachael, in turn, was puzzled. Carol was undeniably a pretty

child, with all a spoiled child's confident charm, but in all

good-natured generosity Rachael could not see in her the subtle

and irresistible fascinations that her father so eagerly

exploited. Surely no girl of ten, however gifted, could be

reasonably supposed to eclipse completely the woman Rachael knew

herself to be; surely no parental infatuation could extend itself

to the point of a remarriage with the bettering of a small child's

position alone the object.

Philosophy came promptly to the aid of the new-made wife. Billy

was a child, and Clarence a greater child. The situation was

annoying, was belittling to her own pride, but she would meet it

with dignity nevertheless. After all, the visible benefits of the

marriage were still hers: the new car, the new furs, the new and

wonderful sense of financial ease, of social certainty.

She schooled herself to listen with an indulgent smile to her

husband's fond rhapsodies about his daughter. She agreed amiably

that Billy would be a great beauty, a heart-breaker, that "the

little monkey had all the other women crazy with jealousy now, by

Jove!" She selected the little gowns and hats in which the radiant

Billy went off for long days alone with "Daddy," and she presently

graciously consented to share the little girl's luxurious room

because Billy sometimes awakened nervously at night. Rachael had

been accustomed to difficulties in dealing with the persons

nearest her; she met them resolutely. Sometimes a baffling sense

of failure smote the surface of her life, like a cold wind that

turns to white metal the smooth waters of a lake, but she held her

head proudly above it, and even Clarence and his daughter never

guessed what she endured. What did it matter? Rachael asked

herself wearily. She had not asked for love. She had resolutely

exchanged what she had to give for what she had determined to get;

Clarence had made no blind protestations, had expected no golden

romance. He admired her; she knew he thought it was splendid of

her to manage the engagement and marriage with so little fuss;

perhaps his jaded pulses fluttered a little when Rachael,

exquisite in her bridal newness, stooped at the railway station to

give the drooping Billy a good-bye kiss, and promise that in three

days they would be back to rescue her from the hated governess;

but paramount above all other emotions, she suspected, was the

tremendous satisfaction of having gained just the right woman to

straighten out his tangled domestic affairs, just the mother, as

the years went by, to do the correct thing for Billy.