Free House Divided by Ben Ames Williams Page A

“Of course Trav liked her!”
    Trav felt Mrs. Albion’s eyes rest on him for a moment, but then she said something to make the children laugh, and he thought she knew how to please people. She had changed in these years, was more attractive, not at all alarming. Her visit promised pleasantly.

3
    July, 1859
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    I N THAT interval after her arrival when she and her daughter were alone together abovestairs, Mrs. Albion decided that Enid was as pretty as ever, if she only knew how to do her hair. It hung in ringlets, with a frizzed bang; but coronet braids in the current fashion were so much more becoming unless your hair was naturally curly. Enid’s, though it was a delicious honey color, was as straight as a string; and people with straight hair, if they were intelligent, arranged it simply and almost severely. Enid’s gown, too, was atrocious, the sort of thing you gave away quickly to your servants. Mrs. Albion thought: “But there, I mustn’t blame her. It’s my fault. I didn’t teach her these things when she was a child. It’s lucky I came.”
    They had a long hour together while Mrs. Albion repaired the disorders of her journey. Enid was exclamatory with welcome. “Oh, Mama, it’s so wonderful to have you here! Trav and I just go on and on, year in, year out, never seeing anybody! Except, of course, he goes away on business sometimes; but he never takes me!”
    Mrs. Albion marked her querulous tone for future attention. “What a pretty dress! Did Trav pick it out for you, on those trips of his?”
    â€œTrav? Heavens, Mama, he never thinks of bringing back anything —except of course head cloths for the women and Barlow knives for the hands! Never anything for me. No, I made this over. It’s one I got in Raleigh three years ago. I haven’t been away from the place since! Can you imagine that? The children and the place, up at daylight, go to bed at dark; that’s Trav’s idea of the way to live! He never considers me!”

    Mrs. Albion’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You talk as though you and Trav didn’t get along.”
    â€œOh, I guess he’s satisfied, but it’s awful for me. We just live like poor whites.”
    â€œIn this lovely house? With everything you want?” The older woman’s tone sharpened. “Don’t be silly! You’ve nothing to whine about!”
    â€œYou don’t know Trav!”
    â€œI’ve known—other men.”
    â€œTrav isn’t Tony, by miles!”
    There was a hint of malice in Enid’s tone, and Mrs. Albion heard it. Probably the little snip had guessed the truth about Tony long ago. Well, let her! “Whining does no good, with men,” the older woman suggested. “It just makes them feel guilty, so they get mad. A man’s like a cat, or a mule. Pushing and pulling and hauling makes men stubborn; but they can be gently led to do anything, if you’re clever.”
    â€œI notice you never married Tony, all the same!”
    â€œTony? Why, Heavens, he’s an old man, dear!” The best defense was always to attack. “I’m surprised you haven’t been able to handle Trav. You were clever enough to make him marry you.”
    â€œI just did it to spite you! I wish I’d let you have him!”
    â€œWell, you made your bed! It’s your own fault Trav is in it.” She was busy with her hair. “I never get this braid to look right. I should have kept Tessie. She was good with it, but she was a bother other ways.” Tessie knew too much, for one thing; Mrs. Albion, ignoring her entreaties, had mercilessly sold her to a slave trader from Louisiana. So far away her tongue could do no harm.
    â€œLet me try.”
    â€œOh, I might as well learn now as later.” Nell’s tone became lightly casual. “By the way, speaking of Tony, I hear he’s run Great Oak into debt. Trav’s made Chimneys