The Plastic Age by Percy Marks (best fiction books to read TXT) 📕

Ignorant Or Indifferent To The Feelings Of Mankind. The Bare

Possibility Of Be[Ing] Rendered So Unhappy As I Should Be Made Upon

A Change Of Their Resolution,  Or From The Operations Of Caprice And

Travers,  I Say The Mere Apprehensions Of That,  Even Slightly

Founded,  Prevent My Mind From Being In That Equilibre Which Is

Absolutely Necessary To My Tranquillity. We Are,  I Say,  At Present

Going On Very Well,  In as Good And Regular A Progress Of Education

As It Is Possible; Both Mie Mie And I As Tractable As It Is

Possible; Et Troubler Ce Menage Seroit Une Cruaute Sans Example.

I Have Also To Grieve At Other Times For A Great Deprivation Of Part

Of My Happiness; That,  I Mean,  To Which You Contributed,  Lady

C(Arlisle) And Your Children. There Is A Hiatus Valde Deflendus;

Indeed,  A Lacune Which I Do Not Know How To Fill Up,  And I Sigh Over

The Prospect Of It Perpetually,  And Without Seeing My Way Out Of It.

I Have,  At Another Part Of My Day,  A Scene,  Which Time Or Use Cannot

Reconcile To Me. I See My Mother'S Strength Grow Less Every Day,

Without Any Consolation,  But That Her Mind Does Not Decay With It.

In Short,  My Dear Lord,  As I Have Often Told You,  J'Ai L'Esprit Et

Le Coeur Trop Fracasses For Me To Be Happy At Present,  And All I Can

Say Is That I Might,  By Untoward Accidents,  Be More Miserable,  And

These Are Removed From My View Pour Le Moment; But I Wait For A

Period Of Time When I Shall Be Relieved From Uncertainty Of What May

Happen,  And When I May Live And Breathe Without Restraint And

Apprehension. That Period Will,  As I Imagine,  Arrive In about Two

Months,  And Till Then Les Assurances Les Plus Fortes Sont Trop

Faibles Pour Mon Repos.

It Is Some Time Since I Have Had A Long Letter From You. I Hope To

Have One Of Some Sort Or Other To-Morrow. I Hope All Goes Quietly,

At Least Gregt Thought And Then Said

Softly,  His Eyes On The Table,  "I'M Glad That You Feel That Way,

Cynthia." She Bit Her Lip And Trembled Slightly. "I'Ll Confess Now That

I Don'T Think That I Love You,  Either. You Sweep Me Clean Off My Feet

When I'M With You,  But When I'M Away From You I Don'T Feel That Way. I

Think Love Must Be Something More Than We Feel For Each Other." He

Looked Up And Smiled Boyishly. "We'Ll Go On Being Friends Anyhow,  Won'T

We?"

Somehow She Managed To Smile Back At Him. "Of Course," She Whispered,

And Then After A Brief Pause Added: "We Had Better Go Now. Your Train

Will Be Leaving Pretty Soon."

Hugh Pulled Out His Watch. "By Jingo,  So It Will."

He Called The Waiter,  Paid His Bill,  And A Few Minutes Later They Turned

Into Fifth Avenue. They Had Gone About A Block Down The Avenue When Hugh

Saw Some One A Few Feet Ahead Of Him Who Looked Familiar. Could It Be

Carl Peters? By The Lord Harry,  It Was!

"Excuse Me A Minute,  Cynthia,  Please. There'S A Fellow I Know."

He Rushed Forward And Caught Carl By The Arm. Carl Cried,  "Hugh,  By

God!" And Shook Hands With Him Violently. "Hell,  Hugh,  I'M Glad To See

You."

Hugh Turned To Cynthia,  Who Was A Pace Behind Them. He Introduced Carl

And Cynthia To Each Other And Then Asked Carl Why In The Devil He

Hadn'T Written.

Carl Switched His Leg With His Cane And Grinned. "You Know Darn Well,

Hugh,  That I Don'T Write Letters,  But I Did Mean To Write To You; I

Meant To Often. I'Ve Been Traveling. My Mother And I Have Just Got Back

From A Trip Around The World. Where Are You Going Now?"

"Oh,  Golly," Hugh Exclaimed,  "I'Ve Got To Hurry If I'M Going To Make

That Train. Come On,  Carl,  With Us To Grand Central. I'Ve Got To Get The

Five-Ten Back To Haydensville. My Folks Are Coming Up To-Morrow For

Commencement." Instantly He Hated Himself. Why Did He Have To Mention

Commencement? He Might Have Remembered That It Should Have Been Carl'S

Commencement,  Too.

Carl,  However,  Did Not Seem In The Least Disturbed,  And He Cheerfully

Accompanied Hugh And Cynthia To The Station. He Looked At Cynthia And

Had An Idea.

"Have You Checked Your Bag?"

"Yes," Hugh Replied.

"Well,  Give Me The Check And I'Ll Get It For You. I'Ll Meet You At The

Gate."

Hugh Surrendered The Check And Then Proceeded To The Gate With Cynthia.

He Turned To Her And Asked Gently,  "May I Kiss You,  Cynthia?"

For An Instant She Looked Down And Said Nothing; Then She Turned Her

Face Up To His. He Kissed Her Tenderly,  Wondering Why He Felt No

Passion,  Afraid That He Would.

"Good-By,  Cynthia Dear," He Whispered.

Her Hands Fluttered Helplessly About His Coat Lapels And Then Fell To

Her Side. She Managed A Brave Little Smile. "Good-By--Honey."

Carl Rushed Up With The Bag. "Gosh,  Hugh,  You'Ve Got To Hurry; They'Re

Closing The Gate." He Gripped His Hand For A Second. "Visit Me At Bar

Harbor This Summer If You Can."

"Sure. Good-By,  Old Man. Good-By Cynthia."

"Good-By--Good-By."

Hugh Slipped Through The Gate And,  Turned To Wave At Carl And Cynthia.

They Waved Back,  And Then He Ran For The Train.

On The Long Trip To Haydensville Hugh Relaxed. Now That The Strain Was

Over,  He Felt Suddenly Weak,  But It Was Sweet Weakness. He Could

Graduate In Peace Now. The Visit To New York Had Been Worth While. And

What Do You Know,  Bumping Into Old Carl Like That I Cynthia And He Were

Friends,  Too,  The Best Friends In The World,  But She No Longer Wanted To

Marry Him. That Was Fine.... He Remembered The Picture She And Carl Had

Made Standing On The Other Side Of The Gate From Him. "What A Peach Of A

Pair. Golly,  Wouldn'T It Be Funny If They Hit It Off...."

He Thought Over Every Word That He And Cynthia Had Said. She Certainly

Had Been Square All Right. Not Many Like Her,  But "By Heaven,  I Knew

Down In My Heart All The Time That I Didn'T Want To Get Married Or Even

Engaged. It Would Have Played Hell With Everything."

The Next Morning Hugh'S Mother And Father Arrived In The Automobile. He

Was To Drive Them Back To Merrytown The Day After Commencement. At Last

He Stood In The Doorway Of The Nu Delta House And Welcomed His Father,

But He Had Forgotten All About That Youthful Dream. He Was Merely Aware

That He Was Enormously Glad To See The "Folks" And That His Father

Seemed To Be Withering Into An Old Man.

As The Under-Classmen Departed,  The Alumni Began To Arrive. The "Five

Year" Classes Dressed In extraordinary Outfits--Indians,  Turks,  And Men

In Prison Garb Roamed The Campus. There Were Youngsters Just A Year Out

Of College,  Still Looking Like Undergraduates,  Still Full Of College

Talk. The Alumni Ranged All The Way From These One-Year Men To The

Fifty-Year Men,  Twelve Old Men Who Had Come Back To Sanford Fifty Years

After Their Graduation,  And Two Of Them Had Come All The Way Across The

Continent. There Had Been Only Fifty Men Originally In That Class; And

Twelve Of Them Were Back.

What Brought Them Back? Hugh Wondered. He Thought He Knew,  But He

Couldn'T Have Given A Reason. He Watched Those Old Men Wandering Slowly

Around The Campus,  One Of Them With His Grandson Who Was Graduating This

Year,  And He Was Awed By Their Age And Their Devotion To Their Alma

Mater. Yes,  Henley Had Been Right. Sanford Was Far From Perfect,  Far

From It--A Child Could See That--But There Was Something In The College

That Gripped One'S Heart. What Faults That Old College Had; But How One

Loved Her!

Thousands Of Japanese Lanterns Had Been Strung Around The Campus; An

Electric Fountain Sparkled And Splashed Its Many-Colored Waters; A Band

Seemed To Be Playing Every Hour Of The Day And Night From The Band-Stand

In Front Of The Union. It Was A Gay Scene,  And Everybody Seemed Superbly

Happy Except,  Possibly,  The Seniors. They Pretended To Be Happy,  But All

Of Them Were A Little Sad,  A Little Frightened. College Had Been Very

Beautiful--And The "World Outside," What Was It? What Did It Have In

Store For Them?

There Were Mothers And Fathers There To See Their Sons Receive Their

Degrees,  There Were The Wives And Children Of The Alumni,  There Were

Sisters And Fiancees Of The Seniors. Nearly Two Thousand People; And At

Least Half Of The Alumni Drunk Most Of The Time. Very Drunk,  Many Of

Them,  And Very Foolish,  But Nobody Minded. Somehow Every One Seemed To

Realize That In a Few Brief Days They Were Trying To Recapture A

Youthful Thrill That Had Gone Forever. Some Of The Drunken Ones Seemed

Very Silly,  Some Of Them Seemed Almost Offensive; All Of Them Were

Pathetic.

They Had Come Back To Sanford Where They Had Once Been So Young And

Exuberant,  So Tireless In Pleasure,  So In Love With Living; And They

Were Trying To Pour All That Youthful Zest Into Themselves Again Out Of

A Bottle Bought From A Bootlegger. Were They Having A Good Time? Who

Knows? Probably Not. A Bald-Headed Man Does Not Particularly Enjoy

Looking At A Picture Taken In His Hirsute Youth; And Yet There Is A

Certain Whimsical Pleasure In The Memories The Picture Brings.

For Three Days There Was Much Gaiety,  Much Singing Of Class Songs,

Constant Parading,  Dances,  Speech-Making,  Class Circuses,  And Endless

Shaking