CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The Neighbour

December 25th, 1823—Another year has gone by. My little Arthur is quite healthy and loves to play. My love for my son is measureless. My love for my husband, however, has lessened in the two years that we have been married. I love him still; and he loves me, but we speak little, and show each other little tenderness. Unfortunately, there is no more romance in our marriage.

Arthur is not a bad man, but he is selfish, and cares little how I feel. He expects his wife to stay at home waiting for him to return from entertaining himself with his friends.

Early in spring, he announced that he would soon leave for London to do business.

"But why leave me?" I asked. "I can go with you."

"You would take that child to town?"

"Yes—why not?"

He refused to let me take the child to London, telling me that London was not safe for such a small child.

"The truth is, Arthur, you are tired of me, and want to go to be with your friends."

He denied it, but I immediately left the room, crying as I went. He promised that he would not be in London long, and would soon return. I was again left to tend to the child and the household matters. During his time away from Grassdale, I became quite familiar with our business affairs, and soon discovered that most of my fortune was spent paying his many, many bills. This new information upset me, but I said nothing, as he was my husband, and he shares all I have.

He returned four months later. During those four months, I was lonely and worried for him to return. I had my darling child to comfort me, but I was quite upset with his father. How shall I teach my child to respect his father, but not to follow his father's behaviours?

One morning, as I was taking a walk with little Arthur and his nurse, Rachel, Mr Hargrave came to greet us. He invited me for dinner with Mrs Hargrave, Esther, and himself. During our conversation, he often asked about Mr Huntingdon, and informed me that my husband's behaviour in London was less than gentlemanly. I was quite disturbed at this news, and rather upset that I was hearing such news from his dear friend. I did not want to hear about my husband's careless manner. Mr Hargrave mentioned that my husband would certainly return the following week, which he had planned four months before, although he never once told me of his long travel plans.

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