"I hope he is," answered Robert, who was nettled by the criticism. "He cannot do better than take after his mother in every way."

"And I am fairly shocked, Robert," she continued, "that the child--who's ever it is--hasna yet been baptized. Seven weeks old and not baptized! I never heard the like. My children were covenanted Christians before they were two weeks old. It was my first thought for them."

"Well, mother, we wanted to be quite sure of the name. A boy's name means much to him when he becomes a man."

"There is but one name proper for the child, that is his grandfather's."

"Do you mean Traquair?" asked Robert.

"Yes, Traquair--a fine family name."

Theodora looked entreatingly at Robert, and he understood her dissent and shared it.

"Mother," he answered, "I have a great objection to Traquair."

"Objection! Pray, why?"

"It was not a fortunate name for my father. It is not a good business name."

"My father was a Traquair, and he made a great deal of money."

"Your father was called Donald Traquair. That is different. Traquair is a good family name, but it is not a good Christian name."

"We could call him Donald," said Theodora. "Donald is a good name, though I think Robert likes David best of all."

"David!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mrs. Campbell with anger. "I will have no David Campbells in this house! I will not suffer my grandson to be called David. It was like you to propose it."

"I thought it would please you. I am quite willing my son should be called David."

"I think David is a very good name," said Robert, but his opinion was given with that over-decision which cowardice a.s.sumes when it forces itself to a.s.sertion.

"To have a David Campbell in the house will be a great annoyance to me,"

continued Mrs. Campbell. "It will be enough to make me hate the child."

Then Theodora left the room. She felt that the argument had gone as far as it was likely to be reasonable. In a short time Robert followed her and his face wore a look of vexation and perplexity.

"Have you decided on the name yet, Robert?" she asked.

"No."

"Why not call him after yourself?"

"Because in the course of time I should likely be compelled to write 'senior' after my own name. I do not care to look forward to that.

Mother has set her mind on Traquair."

"It is the only Scotch name I object to. It has not one n.o.ble a.s.sociation. If you say Robert, you think of Robert Bruce, and Robert Burns, and a score of other great men. Call him Donald, or Dugald, or Duncan, or Angus, or Hector, or Alexander, they are all Christian names and will not subject the little lad when he goes among the boys and men, to mockery. Traquair will give them two objectionable nicknames--Tray, which is a dog's name, and Quair will easily slip into queer. Think of it--Tray Campbell, or Queer Campbell. It will not do, Robert."

"No. Traquair will not do. It will not do."

"There is one good reason for not calling the child Robert, not the 'senior' reason at all. I want you to keep and make famous your own name. You are really a good natural orator. I noticed your speech, and its delivery at Dr. Robertson's dinner, when we were at Inverkip. It was the best speech made. It was finely delivered. You are rich and going to be richer; why not cultivate your gift, and run for Parliament? No one can put political views into a more sensible and eloquent speech than Robert Campbell."

"I think you overrate my abilities, Dora," replied Robert, but he spoke with a kind of musing satisfaction.

"No, you could become a good speaker, and if you wish, I am sure you may write M. P. after your name. Why not decide on David? You love your big brother yet. You never speak of him without emotion. He will come back to you, I am sure. And how proud you will be to say: 'I never forgot you, David. I called my first-born son after you.'"

"You are right, Dora, you are right. The boy's name is David. I have said it and it shall be so. Mother must give way. She must remember for once, that we have some feelings and prejudices as well as herself."

At that moment Ducie entered with the child, and Theodora took him in her arms and said: "Ducie, the baby is to be called David." Then she kissed the name on his lips and he opened his blue eyes and smiled at her.

The next Sabbath the child was solemnly baptized David, and Robert entered his name in the large family Bible, which had been the first purchase he made for his home after Theodora had accepted him.

But in neither ceremony did Mrs. Traquair Campbell take any part. She did not go to church, and when Robert asked her to come into his parlor and see the entry of her grandson's name in the Book, she refused. All of the household were present but the infant's grandmother and aunts; and all blessed the child as Theodora put him a moment into the arms of the women present. McNab kissed him, and made a kind of apology for the act, saying she "never could help kissing a boy baby, since she was a baby hersel', and even if it were a girl baby a bit bonnie, she whiles fell easy into the same infirmity."

In this case Theodora gained her desire, and some will say she gained it by flattering her husband. It would be fairer to say by _admiring_ her husband. A wise wife knows that in domestic diplomacies, admiration is a puissant weapon. In a great many cases it is better than love. Men are not always in the mood to be loved, their minds may be busy with things naturally antagonistic to love; and to show a warmth that is not shared is a grave mistake. But all men are responsive to admiration. It succeeds where reasoning and arguing and endearments fail. For the person admired feels that he is believed in, and trusted. He has nothing to explain and nothing to justify, and this att.i.tude makes the wheels of the household run smoothly.

Is then Theodora to be blamed? If so, there are an unaccountable number of women, yesterday, to-day, and forever, in the same fault. It would be safe to say there is not a happy household in the land where the wives and mothers do not use many such small hypocrisies. Is there any wife reading this sentence, who has not often made a pleasant evening for her whole family, by a few admiring or sympathizing words? For though a woman will go through hard work and distracting events without praise or sympathy, a man cannot. If admiration and kindness fail him, he flies to the black door of oblivion by drink, or drugs, or a pistol shot. A man with a wife whose sympathy and admiration can be relied on, is never guilty of that sin. Is there a good wife living who has not pretended interest in subjects she really cares nothing about; who has not listened to the same stories a hundred times, and laughed every time; who does not in some way or other, violate her own likes or dislikes, tastes or opinions every day in the week in order to induce a household atmosphere which it will be pleasant to live in?

This is not the place to discuss the ethics of this universal custom.

Women, with reckless waste have always flung themselves into the domestic gulf. They choose to throw away their own happiness in order to make others happy, forgetting too often that _they who injure themselves shall not be counted innocent_.

CHAPTER VII

THE NEW CHRISTINA

Home is not ruined in a day, and it is wonderful what rack and strain and tugging the marriage tie will bear ere it snaps asunder. For three years and a half after the birth of the child, Theodora was subjected to an unwearying hostility, always finding fresh reasons for complaint and injustice. And it was a cruel symptom of this intentional malice, that it took as its usual vehicle, little David. He could do nothing right.

Baby as he was, his grandmother found him to be a child of many sinful proclivities. She was never weary of pointing out his faults. "He looked so vulgarly English, he had no Scotch burr in his speech; he walked wrong, he made her peaceful home a Bedlam of crying and shouting. He was naturally rude, he would scarcely answer his aunts if they spoke to him; and if she herself but came near him, he ran away and hid himself in his mother's arms. He was also shockingly fond of low company. He could not be coaxed into her room, but was never out of the kitchen; and one day she had found him sitting on the pastry table, watching McNab make the tarts." At this charge Robert smiled and asked:

"Why does not Ducie keep him out of the kitchen? She ought to do so."

"She likes to be there herself. I think it would be well to send her back to Kendal at once. There is no necessity for a nurse now, and the boy ought to be learning how to care for himself--you did so before you were his age. And really, Robert, keeping a maid for Dora is a most unnecessary expense; it also makes a great deal of trouble among the house-servants. The girl is always quarrelling with them about her mistress, and pitying them about their mistress. I fancy Dora makes an equal of her."

"That is not Dora's way, mother. And the girl is not only a nurse, she attends to our rooms also."

"The house chambermaid could do that."

"Could she do it the first thing in the morning?"

"Do you think Dora's rooms ought to be attended to before mine?"

"Dora likes them to be put in order early, and I am willing to pay for her wish."

"More fool you! I dare be bound, she cleaned her own room before you married her."

"If she had married Lord Thurson, instead of me, he would have given her a dozen maids had she wished them."