Earnestly did Coldstream strive to impart cheerfulness to his young wife, but he could not give what he himself did not possess. He read aloud to her lively books, brought Shakespeare and Hood for evening amusement; but Hood’s jests fell utterly flat, and even Petruchio caused no smile. The doctor recommended horse exercise: the prettiest pony in Moulmein was instantly purchased. Oscar procured flowers of the most rare kind, fruits of the most delicate flavour. Thud enjoyed the fruits, Io languidly admired the flowers; but the rose did not return to the lady’s cheek, nor the smile to her lips. At first Oscar’s considerate kindness but raised the thought, “How conscientiously my poor husband tries to do his duty, and hide from his wife that he only married her from pity!” Gradually, however, another thought arose, “All this beautiful tenderness cannot be feigned. My Oscar can never deceive.” There was a great deal of gossip in the small society of Moulmein regarding the Coldstreams. Mrs. Cottle, a vulgar, bustling little woman, declared that she knew for certain that Mr. Coldstream ill-treated or at least neglected his wife. It was clear that they did not “pull together.” Dr. Pinfold doubted whether the climate of Moulmein suited the constitution of Io. Thud, in slow measured tones, as if pronouncing a medical opinion founded on deep study of the case, declared that his sister had caught some kind of malady from that Karen girl who was always dangling at her heels; the fact being that almost the sole pleasure which Io was now able to enjoy was that of tending and teaching the docile and grateful orphan.
The friend who took the most earnest and prayerful interest in what concerned the Coldstreams was Mark Lawrence, the chaplain. He noticed that Io now looked almost as sad as her husband, and Mark naturally attributed her sorrow to the too evident fact that something was hiding the light of God’s countenance from Oscar Coldstream. It was a cause of grief to the wife (of this Mark felt assured) that lips once eloquent for the Master were strangely sealed; that a sincere Christian, as the chaplain believed his friend to be, could not, or would not, enjoy the child’s privilege of approaching his Father’s table. The more earnest the wife’s piety, the deeper her sorrow if her husband could not participate in its comfort.
“But the wife takes a wrong way if she seeks to win a wanderer back by reproaches, even if conveyed but by sorrowful looks,” thought Mark. “I do not believe a word of what Mrs. Cottle says of unkindness on Coldstream’s part, but his manner may betray that he is wounded and hurt. A small, almost imperceptible rift may be widened, a slight injury be fretted into a sore.”
Such thoughts were on the mind of the pastor as he bent his steps one day to the dwelling of the Coldstreams. Mark found the lady in the veranda, and alone.
Io had had no opportunity of speaking quietly wit............