CHAPTER THIRTY

Scenes in the Home

Next week, Arthur did return, looking much angrier and quite ill. He had broken another promise, and this time I would certainly remind him of it. The day he returned, however, he was tired and upset. The next day, I began to speak to him about his broken promises, but he was not interested in discussing such topics. He ate little during our meals together, preferring a few glasses of wine instead. I was not pleased with this habit.

"Please, Helen, don't begin with that now, I can't bear it."

"Can't bear what?—To be reminded of the promises you have broken?"

"Helen, you are cruel. I have returned home tired and ill, and you feel no pity for me."

I walked over, gently placing my hand on his forehead. There was no more discussion of his terrible behaviour, as he had a fever, and must rest.

After his recovery, Arthur was still quite uneasy and became angry rather easily. Fortunately, his friend, Mr Hargrave, began visiting quite frequently, and often dined with us. Arthur continued with his habit of taking in a great amount of wine, although his friend would often persuade him to drink less. For this reason, I happily welcomed Mr Hargrave as a real friend to the family. Yet, I still did not completely trust Mr Hargrave, although I was not certain as to the reason for my distrust.

Towards the end of the summer, I suggested that we take little Arthur to vacation on the seaside. But no, the seaside was far too uninteresting, my husband told me. Besides, he had been invited by one of his friends to spend a month or two in Scotland to go hunting, and had promised to go.

"Then you will leave me again, Arthur?" said I.

"Yes, dearest, but only so that I will love you more when I return. And during my travel, you may visit your aunt and uncle at Staningley. You know that your aunt and I are not fond of each other, so I believe you and the little one should go alone."

I was willing to go for the visit, although I did not want to discuss my marriage with my aunt, although I knew she would be quite interested to know.

During my stay with my dear aunt and uncle, I pretended to be cheerful and content with my marriage, although she knew a great deal about Arthur's shocking behaviour as a husband. Others had informed my poor aunt about my husband. I never complained to her about my marriage troubles, as I didn't want to worry her, and I was a bit ashamed of my problems with my husband. She had warned me before I married him, but I refused to listen.

Arthur did not come home till several weeks after my return to Grassdale, but I was not anxious, as he was not in London, with so many temptations. Rather, he was in the quiet countryside of Scotland, hunting with his friends.

Now, it is January, and soon the spring will be here. I once welcomed the spring with hope and gladness, but now fear the coming season.

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