Nelda DuFrow looked searchingly at her son's unhappy face. "Are you not well, Phillip?"
"Of course I'm well, what made you think otherwise?"
"You don't look well. Perhaps you should see the doctor."
After a moments hesitation, he said, "I'll confess I'm tired. Maggie worries me by wanting to sell our home and move into town in one of those new apartments they are building."
His mother was astonished. "You mean she wants to give up her lovely house home to go into one of those?"
"Yes, mother, that is what I mean. She claims it would be less work for her, and she would have more time for her sick people."
"How utterly ridiculous! I hope, Philip you are not considering it."
"No, not seriously, but I want Maggie to be happy."
"And you believe that will make her happy?"
"I don't know, mother, I really don't know what will make her happy."
"I would dislike very much to have you sell your home."
"Don't worry, I shan't." As he walked away, his mother looked after him as he strode down the street. "So that is what worries him. No wonder he looks so tired." Nelda Dufrow had found her son's wife's actions very disconcerting on several occasions, but had refrained from criticism or comment, not wishing to interfere in any way with their lives. But now, she was feeling resentment against Maggie for her unreasonable actions. Phillip had worked hard to provide a nice home for his family, and was so proud of it, as most women would be. She didn't believe that talking to Maggie would be of any use. She had found her in the past, to be very stubborn. There would have to be another way.
As she pondered over a way to help her son, she thought about her daughter-in-law. "How could I have been so mistaken in a person." Yet there were many people who were mistaken about Maggie, who could be so sweet and kind when she wanted to impress someone, and for the most part, that was everyone outside her home. Never having learned the lesson to bear and forbear, she judged Phillip to be a weakling, and accordingly, learned to despise him.
Phillip Dufrow decided he would bear his discomfiture, his wife's taunts and neglect, and yes, his loneliness, in order to keep his family as contented and happy as possible. Meanwhile, she treated him in quiet contempt, while she always presented to the public a face with the expression of an injured saint.
The years passed quickly.
Paul Dufrow was now almost seventeen years of age, a quiet sensitive boy, who was anxious to start his last year of high school, then on to college. He knew there was something strange between his parents, but never commented on the situation. Often, when hearing his mother speak offensively to his father, and seeing his father turn away white faced, he would hurt with pity for the one he adored and worshiped. Paul was often angry with his mother, but never once did he speak out against her.
It was growing late in the summer and in three weeks they would all be back in school. Paul sat in the shade in the back yard on a garden chair, intent on his book, when Ruth quietly joined him.
It was several minutes before she spoke, then asked, "Paul do you want father to sell our home and move to Northwood?" The boy laid aside his book and at once replied, " No, I don't, I love this home, and so does father."
"Why do you suppose mother wants to live in an apartment? I think it would be awful."
Jennifer now joined them, and hearing their conversation at once said, "I do, I would like to live in a bigger town."
"You know nothing about it, Jennifer," Ruth reproved. "If we lived in an apartment, we would not have this lovely garden, or flowers, or the lily pond that father worked so hard to build."
With a toss of her blond head, she answered, "Who needs those things? I can do without them."
Paul was impatient with his young sister. "You should be ashamed, Jen, not everyone has it as nice as we have."
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