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Updated: May 22, 2025
The front door was open when she came downstairs, and she went to shut it. A lady, who knew her, happened to be passing, and stopped to shake hands. "I saw your husband just now sitting on the beach with Bessie Gottley," she informed Mrs. Caldwell pleasantly. "They were both laughing immoderately." "Very likely," Mrs. Caldwell responded with a smile. "She amuses my husband immensely.
"Glad to see you, Gottley," he said. "What will you have?" "Oh, nothing, thank you. I can't stay a moment. I just looked in to see how Mrs. Caldwell was getting on." "Oh, she's all right," her husband answered for her cheerfully. "How are you all, especially Miss Bessie?" "Ha! ha!" said the old gentleman, sitting down by the table. "That reminds me I'm not on good terms with Bessie this morning.
"Ah, there you know you are wrong, Gottley," Mr. Caldwell chimed in, and then he proceeded to argue the question. The old doctor, being in a hurry, said little in reply, and when he had gone Mrs. Caldwell exclaimed, with wifely tact "Well, I think you had the best of that!" "Well, I think I had, poor old buffer!" her husband answered complacently, his temper restored.
He was standing in the window, and caught a glimpse of Bessie Gottley, who was passing at the moment on the opposite side of the road, and looked across at him, smiling and nodding invitingly. Mrs. Caldwell saw the pantomime, and her heart contracted with a pang when she saw how readily her husband responded.
It was hard that the evil moods should not be conquered for her as well as for Bessie Gottley. Bridget came in just then, bringing the belated whisky. "Oh, you did order it," he graciously acknowledged. "Why didn't you say so?" He opened the bottle, and poured some out for himself. "Here's to the moon-faced Bessie!" he said jocularly. Mrs. Caldwell went on with the mending.
Gottley, when it became a regular thing for her to wake in the dark out of one of her vivid dreams, and shriek because she could not see where she was. The usual beating and shaking had been tried to cure her of her nonsense, but this sensible treatment only seemed to make her worse, she was such a tiresome child, till at last, when Dr.
Gottley threatened serious consequences, the light was allowed, a dim little float that burned on an inch of oil in a glass of water, and made Kitty look so funny when she came up to bed.
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