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Updated: April 30, 2025
Cayhill, and turning a page, she lost herself, to all appearance, in the next one. Johanna did not reply, and for some minutes there was silence, broken only by the turning of the leaves. Then, compelled by something that was stronger than herself, Mrs. Cayhill laid her book on her knee, gave a loud sigh, and glanced at Johanna's grave face. "You are a nuisance, Joan.
Thou hast subdued This haughty heart, which still hath scoffed till now At love's omnipotence. If I have read Aright Johanna's soul, her modest heart's Her fairest jewel. She deserveth well The homage of the great, but her desires Soar not so high. She striveth not to reach A giddy eminence; an honest heart's True love content's her, and the quiet lot Which with this hand I humbly proffer her.
I dared not quit the house and leave her alone in such a state; and I longed ardently to hear the clocks chime five, and the sound of Johanna's wheels on the roughly-paved street. She could not be here yet for a full half-hour, for she had to go up to our house in the Grange Road and come back again. What if Julia should have fainted, or be dead! That was one of the longest half-hours in my life.
She is content good women ought to be content; but, I tell you, I would gladly exchange her contentment for Aunt Dobrée's troubles, with her pride and happiness in you. I have seen her troubles clearly; and I say, Martin, I would give all Johanna's calm, colorless peace for her delight in her son. "Then I cannot give up the thought of our home, just finished and so pretty.
And you will grant that Heine is the only German writer who has had anything approaching a style?" Johanna's face grew stony. "I have no intention of granting anything," she said. "Like all English people it flatters your national vanity, I presume you think German literature began and ended with Heine. A miserable Jew!"
Don't you understand that?" said Morten earnestly, bending over her. Johanna's gaze wandered round hopelessly, as if she had given up all thought of being understood any more. "I don't think we'll move her against her will," said Morten, as he went down with Pelle. "She is so capricious in her moods. I think, too, I should miss her, for she's a good little soul.
Then Barbara, by him led forth and followed by Johanna's eager eyes, gave the spike its first wavering tap, the president of the road drove it home, and "Susie" was bound in wedlock to the Age. Married for money, some might say.
Cayhill, who felt her world toppling about her ears at the mention of such a thing, said: "Not while I live!" she yielded, without a further word; and the fact that such an emphatic expression of opinion had been drawn from the mild-tempered mother, made it a matter of course that no other member of the family took Johanna's part.
She counted off the hours till the opera commenced; she concocted a scheme to escape Johanna's surveillance; she had a story ready, if it should be necessary, of how she had once been introduced to Schilsky.
Johanna's pride in her knew no bounds. Not that she showed it much; indeed she deemed it a sacred duty not to show it; but to make believe her "child" was just like other children. But she was not. Nobody ever thought she was even in externals. Fate gave her all those gifts which are sometimes sent to make up for the lack of worldly prosperity.
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