The Heart of Rachael - Page 59/76

Clarence drank so heavily after that, and squandered his

magnificent heritage so recklessly, that people began to say that

he would soon follow his mother. But that was four years ago, and

Rachael looking dispassionately at him, where he lay dozing in his

pillows, had to admit that he had shown no change in the past

four--or eight, or twelve--years. Like many a better woman, and

many a better wife, she wondered if she would outlive him, vaguely

saw herself, correct and remote, in her new black.

Involuntarily she sighed. How free she would be! She wished

Clarence no ill, but the fact remained that, loose as was the bond

between them, it galled and checked them both at every step. Their

conversations were embittered by a thousand personalities, they

instinctively knew how to hurt each other; a look from Clarence

could crush his poised and accomplished wife into a mere sullen

shrew, and she knew that it took less than a look from her--it

took the mere existence of her youth and health and freshness--to

infuriate him sometimes. At best, their relationship consciously

avoided hostility. Rachael was silent, fuming; Clarence fumed and

was silent; they sank to light monosyllables; they parted as

quickly as possible. Would Clarence like to dine with this friend

or that? Rachael didn't think he would, but might as well ask him.

No, thank you! he wouldn't be found dead in that bunch. Did

Rachael want to go with the Smiths and the Joneses to dine at the

Highway, and dance afterward? Oh, horrors! no, thank you!

It was only when she spoke of Billy that Rachael was sure of his

interest and attention, and of late she perforce had for Billy

only criticism and disapproval. Rachael read the girl's vain and

shallow and pleasure-loving little heart far more truly than her

father could, and she was conscious of a genuine fear lest Billy

bring sorrow to them all. Society was indulgent, yes, but an

insolent and undeveloped little girl like Billy could not snap her

fingers at the law without suffering the full penalty. Rachael

would suffer, too. Florence and her girls would suffer, and

Clarence--well, Clarence would not bear it. "What an awful mix-up

it is!" Rachael thought wearily. "And what a sickening, tiresome

place this world is!"

And then suddenly the thought of Warren Gregory came back, and the

new curious sensation of warmth tugged at her heart.