Seth's Brother's Wife: A Study of Life in the Greater New York. Frederic HaroldЧитать онлайн книгу.
needn’t!”
The silence which ensued was of the kind that can be felt. The two cigars at the corners of the old curb glowed intermittently in the darkness. John’s had gone out during his speech, and as he re-lighted it, the glare of the match showed an excited, indignant face. There was no room for doubt, after the momentary exhibit which the red light made, that John was very much in earnest.
Albert was thinking laboriously on his answer. Meantime, he said, to fill the interval “Do you like the cigar?”
“Yes; a fifteen center, isn’t it?”
Albert had it in his mind to say truthfully that he paid $180 per thousand, but the fear of invidious comparisons rose before him in time, and he said “About that, I think.”
He waited a moment, still meditating, and threw out another stop-gap: “It’s curious how the rhetorical habit grows on a man who writes leading articles. I noticed that you used three adjectives every time, the regular cumulative thing, you know.”
“Maybe so; it would be more to the purpose to hear what you think about the spirit of my oration; the form doesn’t matter so much.”
“Well, I will tell you, John,” said Albert, slowly, still feeling his way, “to speak frankly, no doubt there’s a good deal in what you say. I feel that there is. But you ought to consider that it isn’t easy for a man living in a great city, immersed in business cares, and engrossed in the labors of his profession, to realise all these things, and see them as you, who are here on the ground, see them. It’s hardly fair to attack me as heartless, when you present these facts to me for the first time.”
“For the first time! You ought to have seen them for yourself without presenting. And then you said Sabrina had often discussed the subject with you.”
“Oh, but her point of view is always family dignity, the keeping up of the Fairchilds’ homestead in baronial state, and that sort of thing. You should have heard her this afternoon, telling me how her fathers name used to be coupled with Dearborn County, just as Silas Wright’s was with Dutchess—either Dutchess or Delaware, I forget which she said—but it was very funny.”
“Sabrina and I haven’t spoken for I don’t know how long, and we’re not likely to again in a hurry, but for all that I’m bound to say I wish some others of the family had as much pride as she’s got,” said John. “Whatever else she may be, she’s as loyal and as faithful to the family idea, as jealous of the family’s name, as any old Spanish grandee. And I confess the Silas Wright thing doesn’t seem funny to me at all—any fellow with the right kind of a heart in him would feel that it was deucedly pathetic—the poor old maid clinging through the shipwreck to that one spar of support—the recollection of a time when her father was bigger than his county. Such things oughtn’t to be laughed at.”
Albert lost his patience. “Confound it, man, do you want to force me into a quarrel—this night of all others! By George, was there ever such a brace of brothers! I come out here to get you by yourselves, to talk over with you some plans that have occurred to me for setting things right here—and I haven’t had a civil answer yet from either of you. First it’s the youngster who scowls and snarls at me, and then you read me lofty lectures on my behavior, and then both together in concerted condemnation. No wonder I come rarely to the farm! It’s enough to sicken any man of family ties, to be bullyragged in this way. I’ve a good mind to tell you you can all go to the devil, and be hanged to you!”
The figure on the bucket rose to its feet with a spring, so energetically that there seemed a menace in the action. The village editor restrained this movement with a quiet hand, and a whispered “Keep cool, Seth.” Then he said with exaggerated calmness of voice:
“Personally, perhaps I shouldn’t mind much if you did. But there are others to look after, and so, before you do, it might be worth while to learn what the fine alternative was to have been. It would be a great pity to not even to hear these noble plans with which you were primed, you say, when you came out.”
“But you must admit, John, that you and Seth tonight have been enough to try the patience of a saint.”
“Oh, yes, we admit that. Go on!”
“Well, you’ve made it a little difficult for me to develop my plans—they were scarcely formed in my mind. In a general way, I wanted to consult you about freeing the farm, perhaps buying back some of the original land that has gone, putting the house in shape again, improving the stock, placing Father and Sabrina beyond the chance of ever being embarrassed again—and—and—doing something for Seth.”
“Nobody wants you—” began the impatient Seth.
“Youngster, you shut up!” said John, again using the quieting hand. “Do you really mean all this, Albert?”
“I should scarcely have spoken in detail as I have, otherwise,” answered the lawyer loftily.
“Well, this—” said John, “this takes a fellow’s breath away.”
“If you hadn’t been in such haste to impute bad motives and convict me without judge or jury, perhaps the effect of my plans might not have been so overpowering.”
“Yes, we did you an injustice, Albert, clearly we did. We were full of the idea that all these troubles rolled off you like water off a duck’s back. It seems that was our mistake. But—what’s your scheme?”
“Definitely, I have none, except to do all I can, in the way we may decide will be best all around. I have been thinking some of coming to live here myself, say from May to November of each year, and taking the farm into my own hands.”
“H’m—m! That might have its advantages, perhaps—but——”
“Oh, I know what you mean. If I do, everybody’s rights shall be respected. We’ll fix that beyond question, to your satisfaction, before a thing is done.”
“I don’t care about myself, particularly; you know that: but then there’s Seth, you know—we’ve always figured on the farm as his. It’s true he don’t want to be a farmer, that he hates the whole thing, but still that represents all his capital, so to speak, and—”
“My dear John, that shall all be arranged. I am a childless man—probably always shall be. As long as Father lives the farm shall remain in his name. Either his will can be in my favor, or I can manage the farm as a trustee for all three of us, after he’s gone. In either case, you shall both be protected in turn by my will—absolutely protected. Meantime, what do you want me to do for Seth? What does he want to do?”
“Nothing needs to be done for me,” began Seth, “I can—”
“Now, youngster, will you be quiet!” said John, in mock despair. “I’ll tell you what you can do for Seth, and do easily. Get him a place on some decent newspaper, in New York or one of the larger cities of the State, and let him have money enough to eke out a small salary at first, so that he can begin at editorial work instead of tramping up through the reporter’s treadmill, as I had to. That’s all Seth’ll ask, and it will be the making of him.”
“Begin at editorial work—Seth? Nonsense!”
“No nonsense about it. For two years back Seth has been doing some of the best work on my paper—work that’s been copied all over the State.”
“Bless my soul, what a literary family we are!” said the lawyer. “Does Aunt Sabrina write, too? Perhaps those love poems you have on the last page are hers.”
John continued without noticing the interjection. “Do you remember that long article on Civil Service Reform we had in the Banner last January?”
“I don’t think I do, John. To be frank, although we enjoy having you send us the Banner immensely, occasionally it happens that the stress of professional duties compels me to miss reading a number.”
“Well that article