As she walked away, he could not believe what he had heard. Yet she had expressed no pleasure over the prospect of a new home. He sat stunned for several minutes, then told himself, "All right, I'll build it to suit my taste, and you can find fault afterwards."
Phillip was hurt and bewildered with her failure to offer any encouragement, or express pleasure over the prospect of a new home. The thing that would have made the average woman wildly happy, left his wife uninterested. But he would begin the work at once.
Through the next several months it was a source of pleasure and pride to Phil, and of excitement and interest to his growing family. As last, after five months of labor, the beautiful new house was completed and ready to be occupied. Secretly, Maggie was proud of the house, but never once gave Phillip a word of praise or appreciation.
The day of moving into the new home was one of great excitement for the DuFrow children, and pride for Philip. Maggie was noncommittal, but secretly pleased, busy with getting things in order. When a neighbor stopped to offer congratulations, she replied, "Oh, he didn't build this for his family, he just wanted to impress the neighbors."
Philip remained silent, but when alone with her, demanded "What satisfaction do you get from always trying to belittle me before other people?" Her only reply was her mocking laugh as she turned away. This laugh he had heard before more frequently of late, and it never failed to hurt him like the thrust of a sharp knife. Now it left him feeling numb.
Later in the day, while arranging furniture on the second floor, Maggie entered the largest and brightest room, saying gaily, "At last I can have a room all my own, and you Phil, can use the one at the end of the hall."
With a strange expression on his face, he said "You don't mean that, Maggie."
"Of course I mean it, so you may as well get used to the idea."
He turned away with bitter thoughts, "Everything I do to contribute to her happiness serves only to drive us further apart. Is there nothing at all that will please her?"
Through all these years, Philip DuFrow had kept up his church activities, being respected and looked up to by everyone. Maggie and her children were regular attendants, and she entered into the work of the church with increasing interest. Being entirely without spiritual foundations or values, she soon developed into a religious fanatic.
The truth was , that Maggie was jealous of her husband's popularity, and decided to gain some for herself. Her family not having the background or standing in the town that the DuFrow's had, gave her a feeling of inferiority, and she meant to overcome that at all costs, even to the point of destroying her own husband.
Needless to say, all this was unnecessary. She had been graciously accepted as Philip's wife by the townspeople She could have been happy with this marriage, standing by her husband's side with pride and helpfulness, being sensitive to his need to improve himself in the economic world, and together caring for their family, as other women.
But Maggie was not like other women. There was a driving need to live her own life, in her own way, and to give expression to her religion as she understood it. She would begin by helping other people. That she would be neglecting her children and home by this procedure, seemed not to have occurred to her, or if it did, was not allowed to deter her decision. She would nurse sick people.
Now let it be said that Maggie was twenty-one years of age when she married, and up to that time, she had no inclination to be a nurse-or anything else in particular. She had lived at home, helping her mother, seemingly content in that role. Now, when there was a sickness in the neighborhood, the families were often surprised when Maggie would appear, offering her services. Sometimes this help was welcomed, other times not, but those who were the recipients of her kindness, had nothing but praise for her work, which proved her capability.
But one thing she that often irritated many people was, when entering a a home, she would call all the members of the family present to kneel while she would pray a long, fervent prayer. Many people thought, and rightly so, that this was unnecessary. There were good Christian people in this town who believe in prayer, but to be required to leave their work at Maggie's call was not always appreciated.
One evening when Phillip came home from his work, he found the children alone, with no sign of dinner being prepared, and little Eddie crying, and Paul trying to comfort him.
"Where is your mother," he asked
"I don't know," the boy answered.
Ruth said, "She has been gone all afternoon and I'm hungry."
"You children stay here, and I'll see if I can find her. Perhaps she is at her mothers."
Phillip was sure she was not at the Kenwick home, and he was growing very angry, to know she was placing the importance of others ahead of her own children, who at this moment were in need of her.
Out on the street he met Jim Barton, who stopped to chat. He was in no mood for chatting, but stopped momentarily to speak to his friend. He had scarcely bid Jim the time of day when he saw Maggie walking toward them. Philip didn't remember was said next until Maggie stood before them.
Without waiting for her to speak, he asked "Where have you been Maggie? Don't you know the children are alone and hungry?" With an unconcerned manner, she replied, "Oh, I guess they'll not starve."
Her indifference drove Philip's anger to an uncontrollable point, and for the first time in their lives together, he raised his hand against her. His open palm came in sharp contact with her face, and Maggie was no more surprised than he was. His act of violence was completely involuntarily but his wife was quick to take advantage of the situation, as she turned to Jim, who had been a witness to this unpleasant scene.
Actually, there was a small note of triumph in her voice as she cried, "Now you see how he treats me! I am the mother of his children, and he treats me-you saw, didn't you?" The big man looked frankly into her face. "Yes, I saw it, and by heaven, if you were my wife, I'd beat the devil out of you." He turned away in disgust, and Maggie learned that her trick had failed to gain her any sympathy.
When she entered her home a moment later, she found her husband pouring a glass of milk for little Eddie. She spoke at once.
"I hope you are proud of what you did to me out on the street."
"No, Maggie, I'm not. I'm very much ashamed, and I'm sorry."
"You should be, and what will the children think when they hear of it?"
"He looked at her in astonishment. "They needn't know, they didn't see it happen, and I know Jim won't tell them."
"But I will, I want them to the kink of father they have." she laughed her strange mocking laugh. "You wait and see."
Philip left without continuing the discussion, and went to his room. He stretched out on his bed with a sickness in his stomach. What had happened to Maggie? Why had she changed so drastically- or had she changed? Was it possible for a woman to change from a sweet considerate person into what she had become-sly, cruel, and vindictive? He had loved her, and still did, he had given her everything possible for one is his position, which was equal to any of the resident of their town, and better than most. He had always been kind, it was his nature to be so.
Of course, there were four children, but many families had more, There were four in his own family and he had never heard his mother complain. But Maggie wanted to marry. What did she expect? She looked on her children as punishment, and she was taking her revenge on him. That truth now dawned on him in all its ugliness. But what could he do, he loved his children, and their neglect was something he found hard to endure. His religious teaching made it impossible to face the prospects of separation, and besides, he wanted to keep his family and home intact. To do otherwise was sheer torture just to think of.
In the Barton home, Jim was telling his wife Bess, of the incident he had witnessed so unwillingly, between Phil and Maggie. Bess Barton was, womanlike, inclined to side with Maggie.
"Now really, Jim, don't you think you are being a little harsh on Maggie?"
"No, Bess, I don't. I tell you, the woman has a cruel streak in her. She will never convince me that Phil beats her, I know him too well for that."
"But a cruel person would never have the care and kindness to give to others, that she does."
He patted his pretty wife on her arm, as he said, "Don't be fooled by that, sweetie, that is Maggie's act."
"I think you are growing cynical."
Good natured Jim Barton smiled at his wife. "Keep your bright eyes open wide, honey-bun."
"Well, maybe you are right."
"I know I'm right. Now how soon are you going to feed your starving husband?"
"Just as soon as I can get it on the table."
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