Chapter II: The Home Coming

Rachel leant back in the railway carriage and watched the fields and hedges rapidly passing. But her thoughts were far away. She was going home, but not to the old familiar place she had hitherto called by that name. It was to her new home, and the life that she was to spend there was all untried.

She could not but remember the welcoming smile that her mother always gave her even when she had returned only from a walk among the hills. She knew that whatever new interest might come into her mother's life that she would never cease to think first of her children. She had always made everything subservient to their interests and welfare. Before she became an invalid she had never allowed social or any other claims to interfere with theirs, and since she had had to lead a semi-invalid life their interests had still been hers, their joys and sorrows were felt to be her own.

And now, Rachel would have to make her own way in her new world; and have no mother to fly to in any of her difficulties. Her mother-in-law would certainly not take her place, although Luke had talked of her with complete satisfaction and the greatest love. His mother, in his eyes, was everything a man could wish for. She was apparently perfect. But Rachel had not liked what she had seen of her at the wedding, and felt intuitively that she was not approved of by Luke's mother. Luke was evidently her idol, and no-one could be good enough for him. The few remarks she had exchanged with Mrs. Greville had convinced Rachel that Luke's mother had hoped for another kind of wife for her son; one who was used to Parish work, and capable of managing people. Rachel had told her at once that Parish work would be a new experience and had said a little wistfully that she wished she had done more than she had for their home parish. "But I had mother to take care of," she had added.

"Yes," Mrs. Greville had answered, "it is rather a pity that you have had no experience in that line. I am afraid you will find it difficult."

And Rachel had added almost against her will, "And unfortunate, I am afraid, for Luke. However, I can always learn, I suppose."

Mrs. Greville had looked at her with cold critical eyes, saying, "We can learn anything if we put our mind into it," and thought as she uttered the words, "I only hope she will be useful as well as ornamental." The unspoken thought was so evident in the glance that Mrs. Greville gave her, that for a moment, even though Rachel had just been married to the man who was all the world to her, and for whom she was forsaking her mother and her home, she turned away feeling hurt, and vexed.

It was the thought of the mother-in-law who she would have to meet when she arrived in her new home, that was the cause of the slight feeling of depression and fear of which she was conscious as the train neared its destination. Then she glanced across at her husband.

He was deep in the "Times" and apparently utterly unconscious at the moment of her presence. But the expression of great content and interest on his face, and the sudden laugh that escaped him as he handed the paper across to her to enjoy with him something that had tickled his fancy, drove all depression away. After all she had him—for ever—that is to say till death should part them. What could she want more? And she had not promised to like, and adopt, his mother as hers!

It rained during their railway journey, but as they reached the manufacturing town in which was Luke's Parish, the sun shone out, and it was a happy pair that at last drew up at the door of the little house that was to be henceforth home.

"Here we are," exclaimed Luke as he handed out his wife. At the same moment the door was opened by a minute person with a short frock and white apron and with a little cap perched on her head. She looked at them with a broad smile.

"Who is the child?" asked Rachel.

"Why it's Polly Green! My mother promised me that she would get us a really nice little maid; and I know Polly well. She is a thoroughly nice girl. She then, is to be our factotum."

"Well Polly and how are you?" he said heartily, as he gave the bundle of umbrellas into her hands. "This is your Mistress, and you are a lucky girl to have her. Now be sharp, my girl, and put the umbrellas in the hall and then come back for another parcel."

Rachel laughed almost hysterically as she watched Polly running about with her cap on one side and then opening the door of the sitting room with an important air. She had never contemplated for a moment having such a small factotum!

As she stepped into the little room, the door of which had been opened by Polly, she laughed again. It was so very small! Luke had given her no idea at all of its dimensions. He had merely said he could trust his mother to see after the house and to make them comfortable. His joyous laugh as he followed her into the room mingled with hers.

"I'm glad my mother has secured Polly for our maid," he said. "She is a first-rate little woman and always answers the Scripture Questions better at school than any other girl. She'll do well for us."

Rachel did not quite see how answering Scripture questions at school made her fit to be a little maid of all work! But it was all so surprising that she looked around merrily.

"It's almost like a fairy tale," she said, and the thought flashed across her mind, "like a doll's house." Then it was that as Luke suddenly glanced at his wife a feeling of apprehension seized him.

Rachel was standing looking at the pictures on the walls, and her radiant beauty and lovely clothes struck a cold chill into his heart. She looked out of place! And he felt his home must appear to be dull and uninteresting.

"I am afraid," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, and his tone of voice was tinged with regret, "I am afraid that it must strike you as very different from what you have been used to. The house is so small."

"I like it small," she answered cheerfully, "for even when you write your sermons you will not be able to get away from me. I like it to be different."

She had seen at a glance that the wall paper was ugly, the furniture badly arranged, and was not surprised to hear that both had been his mother's choice. It was exactly the kind of paper and furniture that she would expect her to choose. All good, but nothing dainty. But what did it signify? She could have the room papered by-and-bye, and get rid of some of the furniture, and would soon be able to make it homelike and pretty. And after all it did not matter having to live with hideous furniture and drab wall paper if by so doing she had Luke to herself, and was able to help him in his work.

Somewhat assured by her answer and bright smile, Luke led her into the drawing-room, a still smaller and duller room at the back of the house, looking on what, by courtesy, we will call a garden, but was nothing more than a yard containing a few sad looking bushes and a sickly flower or two. Polly appeared asking with a broad grin when she might "serve tea."

"What have you got for tea?" enquired Luke, thinking of Rachel.

"Mrs. Greville brought round some eggs, Sir," answered Polly.

"Good, we'll have them. And I suppose there is jam?"

"There's a pot of plum jam, Sir."

"Bring that then and be as quick as you can Polly as I have to go out in half an hour."

"Go out!" exclaimed Rachel.

"Yes, I'm sorry to have to leave you your first evening," he answered, "but it's the Church Council and I must be there. I got it postponed till to-day as it should have been last Thursday. I am sorry dear."

Rachel smiled. She would not let him see her keen disappointment, nor know that the fear she had expressed to him the evening before gained ground by his words.

"I suppose," she said laughing, "that this is what I must expect, having married a clergyman."

"I am afraid it is! But we shall soon be working side by side and going about together. I shall want you with me. My only fear is that you will work too hard."

The picture he had drawn of them working together had cheered her.

It was at tea that Rachel asked if his mother was on the Church Council.

"No," he answered, "but she is on everything else. She is as good as a Curate. I can't tell you what she has done for me since I have been here. It has made all the difference to me having her. You will get to love her I know."

"I shall never love her," thought Rachel, "but I must try, I must for his sake, and he shall not find out if I can't."

Luke looked at his watch, and rose quickly. "I must be going," he said.

Left alone, Rachel tried to check a slight feeling of homesickness that attacked her. The room was so small and rather dark and yet it was scarcely time to light up. She flung the window open and stood by it looking out into the little yard with the sad looking bushes. Should she ever get used to her surroundings, she wondered, or would she always have the feeling, almost of suffocation, that she was experiencing this evening? It was all so different to her home in the country. From the drawing-room window at Heathland she could see a wide expanse of country and could even feel the wind that blew from the moors. It was not a large house but a thoroughly comfortable one, standing in four or five acres of land. They had lived in a much larger place, in Rachel's childhood, but her father dying, they had moved about ten years ago into what was called Heathland cottage.

Rachel had lived a life of perfect freedom, her only definite duty being that of taking care of her invalid mother. She knew nothing of housekeeping, her elder sister was the housekeeper, and as for cooking! She scarcely knew how to boil a potato.

She forgot that tea was still on the table, and was startled by Polly's voice asking her if she might take the tea things away, as she thought Mrs. Greville would be coming in by-and-bye, and would not be pleased to see them not washed up. Might she take them?

Rachel gasped at the remark. Was she then to be under Mrs. Greville's eye, or rather, was her mother-in-law to instruct Polly as to what to do?

Polly's words had the effect of arousing her from her dreams, and she set to work to help the girl to clear away, leaving her to wash up while she began to unpack. She earnestly hoped that her mother-in-law would not pay her a visit, but determined that she should find her ready to receive her should she appear.

It was rather late when Rachel made her way downstairs. The house was in darkness. But she heard Polly moving about in the kitchen.

"Why Polly, you are in the dark! You had better light up. You can't see to do your work."

Polly rather eagerly turned up the electric light.

"I didn't like to do it before Ma'am," she said, "as Mrs. Greville told me that I must be very careful not to waste the light as it is so expensive, and I thought if she came along and found it she might be angry."

"Well I'm your Mistress now," said Rachel, "and whenever it gets dark, I give you leave to light up. I'm sure you will be careful."

Rachel turned away and recklessly lit the three lights in the tiny drawing-room. She felt angry. Mrs. Greville should find that she had no authority whatever over Polly from henceforth. But the anger soon subsided, and apprehension took its place. Was her mother-in-law going to be a source of unhappiness in their home? But no, it was unthinkable, she must learn to like her.

She must not give place to the feeling of resentment which already was getting a hold on her. The day that Luke found out that she did not love his mother would, Rachel felt sure, be the beginning of an altered feeling in him about herself. It would disappoint him so terribly, and would be a continual source of worry. And she determined that she would never worry him.

And after all was it not very small of her to be so angry about such a little matter? It was much too small a matter for Luke to understand. She must try and take a broader outlook on life and not let little things affect her.

While these thoughts were engrossing her, the front door opened and Rachel heard a firm footstep which was not Luke's crossing the hall.