It was obvious indeed now that Mrs. Rossiter was, never again, under any
terms, to be won over. She had decided in her own slow mind that Peter was
an objectionable person, that he neglected his wife, quarrelled with his
best friends and refused to fulfil the career that he had promised to
fulfil. She saw herself now in the role of protectress of her daughter, and
that role she would play to the very end. Clare must, at all costs, be
happy and, in spite of her odious husband, happy she should be.
Peter discerned Mrs. Rossiter's state of mind on the whole clearly enough,
but with regard to Clare he was entirely in the dark. He devoted his days
now to her service. He studied her every want, was ready to abandon his
work at any moment to be with her, and was careful also to avoid too great
a pestering of her with attentions.
"I know women hate that," he said to himself, "if you go down on your knees
to them and hang around them they simply can't stand it. I won't show her
that I care."
And he cared, poor fellow, as he had never cared for her before during
their married life. The love that he had had for Stephen he would now give
to Stephen's mother would she but let him.
But it was a difficult business. When Mrs. Rossiter was present he could do
nothing right. If he were silent she would talk to Clare about people being
morose; and what a pity it was that some people didn't think of other
people a little instead of being miserable about things for which they had
nobody to thank but themselves, and if he tried to be light-hearted and
amusing Mrs.
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