His Family Ernest Poole (top ten books of all time .txt) 📖

If I kept open it would cost me over five hundred a week to run. Have I five hundred dollars a week to lose?”

“But I tell you it won’t last!” she cried, and again the baffled, driven expression swept over her expressive face. “Can’t you see this is only a panic⁠—and keep going somehow? Can’t you see what it means to the tenements? Hundreds of thousands are out of work! They’re being turned off every day, every hour⁠—employers all over are losing their heads! And City Hall is as mad as the rest! They’ve decided already down there to retrench!”

He turned with a quick jerk of his head:

“Are they cutting you down?” She set her teeth:

“Yes, they are. But the work in my schools is going on⁠—every bit of it is⁠—for every child! I’m going to find a way,” she said. And he felt a thrill of compassion.

“I’m sorry to hear it,” he muttered.

“You needn’t be.” She paused a moment, smiled and went on in a quieter voice: “Don’t think I’m blind⁠—I’m sensible⁠—I see you can’t lose five hundred a week. But why not try what other employers, quite a few, have decided to do? Call your people together, explain how it is, and ask them to choose a committee to help you find which ones need jobs the most. Keep all you can⁠—on part time, of course⁠—but at least pay them something, carry them through. You’ll lose money by it, I haven’t a doubt. But you’ve already found you can mortgage the house, and remember besides that I shall be here. I’m not going to marry now”⁠—her father looked at her quickly⁠—“and of course I’ll expect to do my share toward meeting the expenses. Moreover, I know we can cut down.”

“Retrench,” said Roger grimly. “Turn off the servants instead of the clerks.”

“No, only one of them, Martha upstairs⁠—and she is to be married. We’ll keep the cook and the waitress. Edith will have to give up her nurse⁠—and it will be hard on her, of course⁠—but she’ll have to realize this is war,” Deborah said sharply. “Besides,” she urged, “it’s not going to last. Business everywhere will pick up⁠—in a few weeks or months at most. The war can’t go on⁠—it’s too horribly big!” She broke off and anxiously looked at him. Her father was still frowning.

“I’m asking you to risk a good deal,” she continued, her voice intense and low. “But somehow, dearie, I always feel that this old house of ours is strong. It can stand a good deal. We can all of us stand so much, as soon as we know we have to.” The lines of her wide sensitive mouth tightened firmly once again. “It’s all so vague and uncertain, I know. But one thing at least is sure. This is no time for people with money⁠—no matter how little⁠—to shut themselves up in their own little houses and let the rest starve or beg or steal. This is the time to do our share.”

And she waited. But he made no reply.

“Every nation at war is doing it, dad⁠—become like one big family⁠—with everyone helping, doing his share. Must a nation be at war to do that? Can’t we be brothers without the guns? Can’t you see that we’re all of us stunned, and trying to see what war will mean to all the children in the world? And while we’re groping, groping, can’t we give each other a hand?”

Still he sat motionless there in the dark. At last he stirred heavily in his chair.

“I guess you’re right,” he told her. “At least I’ll think it over⁠—and try to work out something along the lines you spoke of.”

Again there was a silence. Then his daughter turned to him with a little deprecating smile.

“You’ll forgive my⁠—preaching to you, dad?”

“No preaching,” he said gruffly. “Just ordinary common sense.”

A little later Allan came in, and Roger soon left them and went to bed. Alone with Baird she was silent a moment.

“Well? Have you thought it over?” she asked. “Wasn’t I right in what I said?” At the anxious ring in her low clear voice, leaning over he took her hand; and he felt it hot and trembling as it quickly closed on his. He stroked it slowly, soothingly. In the semidarkness he seemed doubly tall and powerful.

“Yes, I’m sure you were right,” he said.

“Spring at the latest⁠—I’ll marry you then⁠—”

Her eyes were intently fixed on his.

“Come here!” she whispered sharply, and Baird bent over and held her tight. “Tighter!” she whispered. “Tighter!⁠ ⁠… There!⁠ ⁠… I said, spring at the latest! I can’t lose you, Allan⁠—now⁠—”

She suddenly quivered as though from fatigue.

“I’m going to watch you close down there,” he said in a moment, huskily.

XXV

Roger saw little of Deborah in the weeks that followed. She was gathering her forces for the long struggle she saw ahead. And his own worries filled his mind. On his house he succeeded in borrowing five thousand dollars at ten percent, and in his office he worked out a scheme along the lines of Deborah’s plan. At first it was only a struggle to save the remnants of what was left. Later the tide began to turn, new business came into the office again. But only a little, and then it stopped. Hard times were here for the winter.

Soon Edith would come with the children. He wondered how sensible she would be. It was going to mean a daily fight to make ends meet, he told himself, and guiltily he decided not to let his daughter know how matters stood in his office. Take care of your own flesh and blood, and then be generous as you please⁠—that had always been his way. And now Deborah had upset it by her emotional appeal. “How dramatic she is at times!” he reflected in annoyance. “Just lets herself out and enjoys herself!” He grew angry at her interference, and more than once he resolved to shut down. But back in the