The Turmoil Booth Tarkington (best reads .txt) đ
- Author: Booth Tarkington
Book online «The Turmoil Booth Tarkington (best reads .txt) đ». Author Booth Tarkington
Oddly enough, Maryâs pallor changed to an angry flush. âThose two!â she exclaimed, sharply; and then, with thoroughgoing contempt: âLamhorn! Thatâs like them!â She turned away, went to the bare little black mantel, and stood leaning upon it. Presently she asked: âWhen did Mrs. Roscoe Sheridan say that âno girlâ could care about you?â
âToday.â
Mary drew a deep breath. âI think Iâm beginning to understandâ âa little.â She bit her lip; there was anger in good truth in her eyes and in her voice. âAnswer me once more,â she said. âBibbs, do you know now why I stopped wearing my furs?â
âYes.â
âI thought so! Your sister-in-law told you, didnât she?â
âIâ âI heard her sayâ ââ
âI think I know what happened, now.â Maryâs breath came fast and her voice shook, but she spoke rapidly. âYou âheard her sayâ more than that. You âheard her sayâ that we were bitterly poor, and on that account I tried first to marry your brotherâ âand thenâ ââ But now she faltered, and it was only after a convulsive effort that she was able to go on. âAnd thenâ âthat I tried to marryâ âyou! You âheard her sayâ thatâ âand you believe that I donât care for you and that âno girlâ could care for youâ âbut you think I am in such an âextremity,â as Sibyl wasâ âthat youâ âAnd so, not wanting me, and believing that I could not want youâ âexcept for my âextremityââ âyou took your fatherâs offer and then came to ask meâ âto marry you! What had I shown you of myself that could make youâ ââ
Suddenly she sank down, kneeling, with her face buried in her arms upon the lap of a chair, tears overwhelming her.
âMary, Mary!â he cried, helplessly. âOh noâ âyouâ âyou donât understand.â
âI do, though!â she sobbed. âI do!â
He came and stood beside her. âYou kill me!â he said. âI canât make it plain. From the first of your loveliness to me, I was all self. It was always you that gave and I that took. I was the dependentâ âI did nothing but lean on you. We always talked of me, not of you. It was all about my idiotic distresses and troubles. I thought of you as a kind of wonderful being that had no mortal or human suffering except by sympathy. You seemed to lean downâ âout of a rosy cloudâ âto be kind to me. I never dreamed I could do anything for you! I never dreamed you could need anything to be done for you by anybody. And today I heard thatâ âthat youâ ââ
âYou heard that I needed to marryâ âsomeoneâ âanybodyâ âwith money,â she sobbed. âAnd you thought we were soâ âso desperateâ âyou believed that I hadâ ââ
âNo!â he said, quickly. âI didnât believe youâd done one kind thing for meâ âfor that. No, no, no! I knew youâd never thought of me except generouslyâ âto give. I said I couldnât make it plain!â he cried, despairingly.
âWait!â She lifted her head and extended her hands to him unconsciously, like a child. âHelp me up, Bibbs.â Then, when she was once more upon her feet, she wiped her eyes and smiled upon him ruefully and faintly, but reassuringly, as if to tell him, in that way, that she knew he had not meant to hurt her. And that smile of hers, so lamentable, but so faithfully friendly, misted his own eyes, for his shamefacedness lowered them no more.
âLet me tell you what you want to tell me,â she said. âYou canât, because you canât put it into wordsâ âthey are too humiliating for me and youâre too gentle to say them. Tell me, though, isnât it true? You didnât believe that Iâd tried to make you fall in love with meâ ââ
âNever! Never for an instant!â
âYou didnât believe Iâd tried to make you want to marry meâ ââ
âNo, no, no!â
âI believe it, Bibbs. You thought that I was fond of you; you knew I cared for youâ âbut you didnât think I might beâ âin love with you. But you thought that I might marry you without being in love with you because you did believe I had tried to marry your brother, andâ ââ
âMary, I only knewâ âfor the first timeâ âthat youâ âthat you wereâ ââ
âWere desperately poor,â she said. âYou canât even say that! Bibbs, it was true: I did try to make Jim want to marry me. I did!â And she sank down into the chair, weeping bitterly again. Bibbs was agonized.
âMary,â he groaned, âI didnât know you could cry!â
âListen,â she said. âListen till I get throughâ âI want you to understand. We were poor, and we werenât fitted to be. We never had been, and we didnât know what to do. Weâd been almost rich; there was plenty, but my father wanted to take advantage of the growth of the town; he wanted to be richer, but insteadâ âwell, just about the time your father finished building next door we found we hadnât anything. People say that, sometimes, meaning that they havenât anything in comparison with other people of their own kind, but we really hadnât anythingâ âwe hadnât anything at all, Bibbs! And we couldnât do anything. You might wonder why I didnât âtry to be a stenographerââ âand I wonder myself why, when a family loses its money, people always say the daughters âought to go and be stenographers.â Itâs curious!â âas if a wave of the hand made you into a stenographer. No, Iâd been raised to be either married comfortably or a well-to-do old maid, if I chose not to marry. The poverty came on slowly, Bibbs, but at last it was all thereâ âand I didnât know how to be a stenographer. I didnât know how to
Comments (0)