DOI article:
King, K. Douglas: Lucretia
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.26393#0231
By K. Douglas King 227
was almost as powerful a factor in his success as Luce’s own
unfortunate mood. Such love as she had ever felt for John Burnett
was already worn thin by interminable toil for him, his house, and
his children.
When a woman speaks of her offspring as “his children” one
of two things is in process. Either she is meditating a desperate
leap into the dark, or she is digesting the discovery of a new,
hitherto undreamt-of virtue in her husband. Now Burnett had
no special virtues whatever ; at least, such as Luce could appre-
ciate. When she began to think of the children as “ his children,”
she was already far on the road that leads to dishonour.
That evening when she hung out her washing, and Caldwell
had first seen her, was one far advanced in April. It was
now late in May, and Scandal was very loud and busy up
Aspect Road. Tremulous-mouthed Lucretia did not care. She
was living a double existence, and Burnett and the children
had only the hollow crust of her attentions. After the first
resistance, Caldwell did not find it difficult to persuade her that
Desire was Duty differently spelt, and that her present duty was
to minister to his. A strong man, or a very selfish man, might
have saved Luce yet. But Burnett was neither strong nor selfish.
He loved his wife and was fond of his children ; but was as weak
in the management of one as of the other.
He submitted to his home discomfort like a lamb, instead of
roaring like a lion when half-raw or burnt-up food was set before
him. Of course, this complaisance completed the woman’s
demoralisation ; just as much as his easy-going, indulgent ways
with his children caused them to develop into veritable demons of
juvenile wickedness. When he first heard from the neighbours’
idle talk that his wife was going wrong with another man, and
that man was his own superintendent, he simply did not believe it,
and
was almost as powerful a factor in his success as Luce’s own
unfortunate mood. Such love as she had ever felt for John Burnett
was already worn thin by interminable toil for him, his house, and
his children.
When a woman speaks of her offspring as “his children” one
of two things is in process. Either she is meditating a desperate
leap into the dark, or she is digesting the discovery of a new,
hitherto undreamt-of virtue in her husband. Now Burnett had
no special virtues whatever ; at least, such as Luce could appre-
ciate. When she began to think of the children as “ his children,”
she was already far on the road that leads to dishonour.
That evening when she hung out her washing, and Caldwell
had first seen her, was one far advanced in April. It was
now late in May, and Scandal was very loud and busy up
Aspect Road. Tremulous-mouthed Lucretia did not care. She
was living a double existence, and Burnett and the children
had only the hollow crust of her attentions. After the first
resistance, Caldwell did not find it difficult to persuade her that
Desire was Duty differently spelt, and that her present duty was
to minister to his. A strong man, or a very selfish man, might
have saved Luce yet. But Burnett was neither strong nor selfish.
He loved his wife and was fond of his children ; but was as weak
in the management of one as of the other.
He submitted to his home discomfort like a lamb, instead of
roaring like a lion when half-raw or burnt-up food was set before
him. Of course, this complaisance completed the woman’s
demoralisation ; just as much as his easy-going, indulgent ways
with his children caused them to develop into veritable demons of
juvenile wickedness. When he first heard from the neighbours’
idle talk that his wife was going wrong with another man, and
that man was his own superintendent, he simply did not believe it,
and