Elisabeth Sanxay Holding

“ It is an old and a deep-rooted thing, the child’s faith in the mother’s judgment. If the mother has been honest and wise, if the child has been never deceived or disappointed by her, then, no matter how old he grows, or how far he may go from her, that old and deep-rooted faith lives in him. Robert, at twenty-six, was surer of himself than he was ever likely to be again. He was certain that all his ideas were his own, and that no living creature could influence him; yet he was terribly afraid of what his mother might think of Molly. ”

“ Robert was waiting for them there. He came forward, with a faint frown, and pushed into place two hairpins that were slipping out of Molly’s hair. It was the most trifling action, yet it seemed to Mrs. Champney very significant. He didn’t like to see those hairpins falling out, didn’t like to see Molly’s lovely, shining hair in disorder. He noticed things of that sort, and he cared. He cared too much. There had been a look of annoyance and displeasure on his face that distressed Mrs. Champney.
Fussiness, she thought, was one of the most deplorable traits a man could have. ”

“ Champney. On the contrary, they filled her with a strong and tender delight, because of her knowledge that whatever troubles came to them, she could surely help; because, for babies, a kiss is a cure for so much, and a song can dry so many baby tears; because love, which must so often stand mute and helpless before grown-up misery, can work such marvels for little children. ”

“ In his superb arrogance he looked upon his mother somewhat as he looked upon the sun. She existed solely for him. He adored her and he needed her—that was why she existed. Mrs. Champney did not trouble to explain. He would learn soon enough how very many other people there were in this world, and that it was not his own world and his own sun at all. In the meantime, let him make the most of it. She said that they would surprise mother, and the idea appealed to Bobbetty. ”

“ Champney to herself. “It means being the third person, the one who stands outside and sees everything—all the poor, pitiful little faults and weaknesses. Love won’t help. The more I love them, the more I can’t help seeing, and they’ll know—they’ll always know. When Robert is impatient, Molly will know that I’ve noticed it, and she’ll think she has to notice it, too. When Molly is careless, Robert will imagine that I’m blaming her, and he’ll feel ashamed of her. ”

“ Robert insisted doggedly. “You’ve been tricked and swindled by that contemptible fellow; but Frank and I are going to see that it’s made right!”
“Oh, Robert! You’re not going to do anything to that poor, miserable, distracted man?”
“Nothing we can do. You gave the fellow a free hand, and he took advantage of it. No, I mean that Frank and I are going to make it up to you, mother.”
He might as well have added “at any cost.” Mrs. Champney winced in spirit, but at the same time she loved him for his blundering tenderness, his uncomprehending loyalty. ”

“ He was sitting in his high chair in the kitchen, while Molly cooked the dinner. He was almost austerely neat and clean after his bath, and he was eating a bowl of Graham crackers and milk, with a large bib tied under his chin. A model child—yet, in the sidelong glance of his black eyes in the direction of the new bowwow, who was not to be touched until supper was finished, Mrs. Champney saw a thoughtful and alarming gleam. Bobbetty was not quite sure whether he would continue being good, or whether it would be nicer suddenly and violently to demand the bowwow. ”

“ If only she could let go, and be frail and helpless, and allow her children to take care of her! They would be so glad to do it—they would be so dear and kind!
“Shame on you, Jessica Champney!” she said to herself. “You weren’t an old lady before you came here, and you’re not going to be one now. You’re only fifty, and you’re well and strong. There must be any number of things a healthy woman of fifty can do. Find them!”
And then, as if by inspiration, she thought of Emily Lyons.
The next morning, as soon as Robert had gone, she told Molly that she wanted to “see about something” ”

“ Nobody can be let alone except those who would give all the world for a little tiresome interference. Molly saw at once how tired she was, and wanted her to lie down and have dinner brought up to her. Robert, by saying nothing at all, was still more difficult to endure.
“I’m not particularly tired, Molly, thank you,” said Mrs. Champney, with great politeness. ”

“ Champney told him, anyhow.
“Bobbetty,” she said, “there’s a Lucy Stone League for women who don’t want to use their husbands’ names. I believe I’ll start a Jessica Champney League for women who refuse to be called mothers-in-law. There’s really no such thing as a mother-in-law, Bobbetty. It’s just a joke, and a very nasty one. Really and truly, Bobbetty, there are nothing but mothers-in-nature. I think I’ll invent some other word. Why not ‘husbandsmother,’ or ‘wifesmother,’ or—”
Molly appeared before her, evidently in great distress. ”

“ Here was Molly, busy with the vital needs of life, with food and clothes, with the care of their child; and she herself was going to work in the Needlecraft Shop.
She had to tell them, of course. When they were all seated at the table, she did so, in the most casual, matter-of-fact way.
It was even worse than she had feared. Robert grew very white.
“You mean—a job?” he asked.
“It’s charitable work, really,” Mrs. Champney explained. “The foreign-born women bring their needlework to the shop, and we sell it on commission for them. ”

“ I can’t go away and leave Robert and Molly alone together. They’ll never be alone together any more—there’s Bobbetty. I can help so much! They’re both so very, very young, and I could do so much! Molly could have time for music. There are two buttons off Bobbetty’s underwaist. Mother-in-law, indeed! ”

“ She took the bag from Robert, who had just come in, and ran up the stairs. Mrs. Champney followed her. All the little house seemed warm and bright with Molly’s beautiful, careless spirit. It wasn’t strange or awkward. It was like coming home; and the room that Molly had got ready for her was so pretty!
“Dinner’s all ready,” said Molly; “but—if you’ll just take one look at Bobbetty. He’s—when he’s asleep, he’s—”
Words failed her.
Mrs. Champney got herself ready as quickly as she could, and followed Molly down the hall to a closed door. ”

“ It’s not because they always interfere, or because they’re troublesome and domineering. It’s because they see all the little things that nobody ought to see—the little things that would never grow important if a third person wasn’t there. ”