The Magnificent Ambersons Booth Tarkington (reading like a writer txt) đ
- Author: Booth Tarkington
Book online «The Magnificent Ambersons Booth Tarkington (reading like a writer txt) đ». Author Booth Tarkington
âThere was something I wanted to say to you last night, Aunt Fanny,â he said, as she finally discovered that an amber fluid, more like tea than coffee, was as near ready to be taken into the human system as it would ever be. âI think Iâd better do it now.â
She set the coffeepot back upon the stove with a little crash, and, looking at him in a desperate anxiety, began to twist her dainty apron between her fingers without any consciousness of what she was doing.
âWhyâ âwhyâ ââ she stammered; but she knew what he was going to say, and that was why she had been more and more nervous. âHadnâtâ âperhapsâ âperhaps weâd better get theâ âthe things moved to the little new home first, George. Letâsâ ââ
He interrupted quietly, though at her phrase, âthe little new home,â his pungent impulse was to utter one loud shout and run. âIt was about this new place that I wanted to speak. Iâve been thinking it over, and Iâve decided. I want you to take all the things from motherâs room and use them and keep them for me, and Iâm sure the little apartment will be just what you like; and with the extra bedroom probably you could find some woman friend to come and live there, and share the expense with you. But Iâve decided on another arrangement for myself, and so Iâm not going with you. I donât suppose youâll mind much, and I donât see why you should mindâ âparticularly, that is. Iâm not very lively company these days, or any days, for that matter. I canât imagine you, or anyone else, being much attached to me, soâ ââ
He stopped in amazement: no chair had been left in the kitchen, but Fanny gave a despairing glance around her, in search of one, then sank abruptly, and sat flat upon the floor.
âYouâre going to leave me in the lurch!â she gasped.
âWhat on earthâ ââ George sprang to her. âGet up, Aunt Fanny!â
âI canât. Iâm too weak. Let me alone, George!â And as he released the wrist he had seized to help her, she repeated the dismal prophecy which for days she had been matching against her hopes: âYouâre going to leave meâ âin the lurch!â
âWhy no, Aunt Fanny!â he protested. âAt first Iâd have been something of a burden on you. Iâm to get eight dollars a week; about thirty-two a month. The rentâs thirty-six dollars a month, and the table-dâhĂŽte dinner runs up to over twenty-two dollars apiece, so with my half of the rentâ âeighteen dollarsâ âIâd have less than nothing left out of my salary to pay my share of the groceries for all the breakfasts and luncheons. You see youâd not only be doing all the housework and cooking, but youâd be paying more of the expenses than I would.â
She stared at him with such a forlorn blankness as he had never seen. âIâd be payingâ ââ she said feebly. âIâd be payingâ ââ
âCertainly you would. Youâd be using more of your money thanâ ââ
âMy money!â Fannyâs chin drooped upon her thin chest, and she laughed miserably. âIâve got twenty-eight dollars. Thatâs all.â
âYou mean until the interest is due again?â
âI mean thatâs all,â Fanny said. âI mean thatâs all there is. There wonât be any more interest because there isnât any principal.â
âWhy, you toldâ ââ
She shook her head. âNo, I havenât told you anything.â
âThen it was Uncle George. He told me you had enough to fall back on. Thatâs just what he said: âto fall back on.â He said youâd lost more than you should, in the headlight company, but heâd insisted that you should hold out enough to live on, and youâd very wisely followed his advice.â
âI know,â she said weakly. âI told him so. He didnât know, or else heâd forgotten, how much Wilburâs insurance amounted to, and Iâ âoh, it seemed such a sure way to make a real fortune out of a littleâ âand I thought I could do something for you, George, if you ever came to need itâ âand it all looked so bright I just thought Iâd put it all in. I didâ âevery cent except my last interest paymentâ âand itâs gone.â
âGood Lord!â George began to pace up and down on the worn planks of the bare floor. âWhy on earth did you wait till now to tell such a thing as this?â
âI couldnât tell till I had to,â she said piteously. âI couldnât till George Amberson went away. He couldnât do anything to help, anyhow, and I just didnât want him to talk to me about itâ âheâs been at me so much about not putting more in than I could afford to lose, and said he considered he had myâ âmy word I wasnât putting more than that in it. So I thought: What was the use? What was the use of going over it all with him and having him reproach me, and probably reproach himself? It wouldnât do any goodâ ânot any good on earth.â She got out her lace handkerchief and began to cry. âNothing does any good, I guess, in this old world. Oh, how tired of this old world I am! I didnât know what to do. I just tried to go ahead and be as practical as I could, and arrange some way for us to live. Oh, I knew you didnât want me, George! You always teased me and berated me whenever you had a chance from the time you were a little boyâ âyou did so! Later, youâve tried to be kinder to me, but you donât want me aroundâ âoh, I can see that much! You donât suppose I want to thrust myself on you, do you? It isnât very pleasant to be thrusting yourself on a person you know doesnât want youâ âbut I knew you oughtnât to be left all alone in the world; it isnât good. I knew your motherâd want me to watch over you and try to have something like
Comments (0)