His Family Ernest Poole (top ten books of all time .txt) đ
- Author: Ernest Poole
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âAfter this little sickness of yoursâ âand that harum scarum wedding,â he said, âI feel weâre both entitled to a good long rest in mountain air.â
âWeâll have it, too,â she murmured.
âWith Edithâs little youngsters. Theyâre all the medicine you need.â He paused for a moment, hesitating. But it was now or never. âThe only trouble with you,â he said, âis that youâve let yourself be caught by the same disease which has its grip upon this whole infernal town. Youâre like everyone else, youâre tackling about forty times what you can do. Youâre actually trying not only to teach but to bring âem all up as your own, three thousand tenement children. And this is where it gets you.â
Again he halted, frowning. What next?
âGo on, dear, please,â said Deborah, in demure and even tones. âThis is very interesting.â
âNow then,â he continued, âin this matter of your school. I wouldnât ask you to give it up, Iâve already seen too much of it. But so long as youâve got it nicely started, why not give somebody else a chance? One of those assistants of yours, for exampleâ âcapable young women, both. You could stand right behind âem with help and adviceâ ââ
âNot yet,â was Deborahâs soft reply. She had turned her head on her pillow and was looking at him affectionately. âWhy not?â he demanded.
âBecause itâs not nicely started at all. Thereâs nothing brilliant about me, dearâ âIâm a plodder, feeling my way along. And what I have done in the last ten years is just coming to a stage at last where I can really see a chance to make it count for something. When I feel Iâve done that, say in five years moreâ ââ
âThose five years,â said her father, âmay cost you a very heavy price.â As Deborah faced his troubled regard, her own grew quickly serious.
âIâd be willing to pay the price,â she replied.
âBut why?â he asked with impatience. âWhy pay when you donât have to? Why not by taking one year off get strength for twenty yearsâ work later on? Youâd be a different woman!â
âYes, I think I should be. Iâd never be the same again. You donât quite understand, you see. This work of mine with childrenâ âwell, itâs like Edithâs having a baby. You have to do it while youâre young.â
âThat works both ways,â her father growled.
âWhat do you mean?â He hesitated:
âDonât you want any children of your own?â
Again she turned her eyes toward his, then closed them and lay perfectly still. âNow Iâve done it,â he thought anxiously. She reached over and took his hand.
âLetâs talk of our summerâs vacation,â she said.
A little while later she fell asleep.
Downstairs he soon grew restless and after a time he went out for a walk. But he felt tired and oppressed, and as he had often done of late he entered a little âmovieâ nearby, where gradually the pictures, continually flashing out of the dark, drove the worries from his mind. For a half an hour they held his gaze. Then he fell into a doze. He was roused by a roar of laughter, and straightening up in his seat with a jerk he looked angrily around. Something broadly comic had been flashed upon the screen; and men and women and children, Italians, Jews and Irish, jammed in close about him, a dirty and perspiring mass, had burst into a terrific guffaw. Now they were suddenly tense again and watching the screen in absorbed suspense, while the crude passions within themselves were played upon in the glamorous dark. And Roger scanned their facesâ âone moment smiling, all together, as though some god had pulled a string; then mawkish, sentimental, soft; then suddenly scowling, twitching, with long rows of animal eyes. But eagerâ âeager all the time! Hungry peopleâ âyes, indeed! Hungry for all the good things in the town, and for as many bad things, too! On one who tried to feed this mob there was no end to their demands! What was one womanâs life to them? Deborahâs big family!
Edith came to the house one afternoon, and she was in Deborahâs room when her father returned from his office. Her convalescence over at last, she was leaving for the mountains.
âDo learn your lesson, Deborah dear,â she urged upon her sister. âLet Sarah pack your trunk at once and come up with me on Saturday night.â
âI canât get off for two weeks yet.â
âWhy canât you?â Edith demanded. And when Deborah spoke of fresh air camps and baby farms and other work, Edithâs impatience only grew. âYouâll have to leave it to somebody else! Youâre simply in no condition!â she cried.
âImpossible,â said Deborah. Edith gave a quick sigh of exasperation.
âIsnât it enough,â she asked, âto have worked your nerves to a frazzle already? Why canât you be sensible? Youâve got to think of yourself a little!â
âYouâd like me to marry, wouldnât you, dear?â her sister put in wearily.
âYes, I should, while there is still time! Just now you look far from it! Itâs exactly as Allan was saying! If you keep on as youâre going youâll be an old woman at thirty-five!â
âThank you!â said Deborah sharply. Two spots of color leaped in her checks. âYouâd better leave me, Edith! Iâll come up to the mountains as soon as I can! And Iâll try not to look any more like a hag than I have to! Good night!â
Roger followed Edith out of the room.
âThat last shot
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