The Rise Of Silas Lapham By William Dean Howells Part 1 by William Dean Howells (read dune txt) 📕

Find In it,  I Am Going out To Manage

That Side Of His Business In south America And Mexico.

He'S Behaved very Handsomely About It.  He Says That If It

Appears For Our Common Interest,  He Shall Pay Me A Salary

As Well As A Commission.  I'Ve Talked with Uncle Jim,

And He Thinks It'S A Good Opening."

 

"Your Uncle Jim Does?" Queried mrs. Corey In amaze.

 

"Yes; I Consulted him The Whole Way Through,  And I'Ve

Acted on His Advice."

 

This Seemed an Incomprehensible Treachery On Her Brother'S Part.

 

"Yes; I Thought You Would Like To Have Me.  And Besides,

I Couldn'T Possibly Have Gone To Any One So Well Fitted

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To Advise Me."

 

His Mother Said Nothing.  In fact,  The Mineral Paint Business,

However Painful Its Interest,  Was,  For The Moment,

Superseded by A More Poignant Anxiety.  She Began To Feel

Her Way Cautiously Toward This.

 

"Have You Been Talking about Your Business With Mr. Lapham

All Night?"

 

"Well,  Pretty Much," Said Her Son,  With A Guiltless Laugh.

"I Went To See Him Yesterday Afternoon,  After I Had Gone

Over The Whole Ground With Uncle Jim,  And Mr. Lapham Asked

Me To Go Down With Him And Finish Up."

 

"Down?" Repeated mrs. Corey.  "Yes,  To Nantasket.

He Has A Cottage Down There."

 

"At Nantasket?" Mrs. Corey Knitted her Brows A Little.

"What In the World Can A Cottage At Nantasket Be Like?"

 

"Oh,  Very Much Like A 'Cottage' Anywhere.  It Has The

Usual Allowance Of Red roof And Veranda.  There Are The

Regulation Rocks By The Sea; And The Big Hotels On The

Beach About A Mile Off,  Flaring away With Electric Lights

And Roman-Candles At Night.  We Didn'T Have Them At Nahant."

 

"No," Said His Mother.  "Is Mrs. Lapham Well? And

Her Daughter?"

 

"Yes,  I Think So," Said The Young Man.  "The Young Ladies

Walked me Down To The Rocks In the Usual Way After Dinner,

And Then I Came Back And Talked paint With Mr. Lapham

Till Midnight.  We Didn'T Settle Anything till This

Morning coming up On The Boat."

 

"What Sort Of People Do They Seem To Be At Home?"

 

"What Sort? Well,  I Don'T Know That I Noticed." Mrs. Corey

Permitted herself The First Part Of A Sigh Of Relief;

And Her Son Laughed,  But Apparently Not At Her.

"They'Re Just Reading middlemarch.  They Say There'S So Much

Talk About It.  Oh,  I Suppose They'Re Very Good People.

They Seemed to Be On Very Good Terms With Each Other."

 

"I Suppose It'S The Plain Sister Who'S Reading middlemarch."

 

"Plain? Is She Plain?" Asked the Young Man,  As If

Searching his Consciousness.  "Yes,  It'S The Older One

Who Does The Reading,  Apparently.  But I Don'T Believe

That Even She Overdoes It.  They Like To Talk Better.

They Reminded me Of Southern People In that." The Young

Man Smiled,  As If Amused by Some Of His Impressions

Of The Lapham Family.  "The Living,  As The Country

People Call It,  Is Tremendously Good.  The Colonel--He'S

A Colonel--Talked of The Coffee As His Wife'S Coffee,

As If She Had Personally Made It In the Kitchen,

Though I Believe It Was Merely Inspired by Her. 

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And There Was Everything in the House That Money Could Buy.

But Money Has Its Limitations."

 

This Was A Fact Which Mrs. Corey Was Beginning to Realise More

And More Unpleasantly In her Own Life; But It Seemed to Bring

Her A Certain Comfort In its Application To The Laphams.

"Yes,  There Is A Point Where Taste Has To Begin," She Said.

 

"They Seemed to Want To Apologise To Me For Not Having

More Books," Said Corey.  "I Don'T Know Why They Should.

The Colonel Said They Bought A Good Many Books,  First And Last;

But Apparently They Don'T Take Them To The Sea-Side."

 

"I Dare Say They Never Buy A New Book.  I'Ve Met Some

Of These Moneyed people Lately,  And They Lavish On Every

Conceivable Luxury,  And Then Borrow Books,  And Get Them

In The Cheap Paper Editions."

 

"I Fancy That'S The Way With The Lapham Family," Said The

Young Man,  Smilingly.  "But They Are Very Good People.

The Other Daughter Is Humorous."

 

"Humorous?" Mrs. Corey Knitted her Brows In some Perplexity.

"Do You Mean Like Mrs. Sayre?" She Asked,  Naming the Lady

Whose Name Must Come Into Every Boston Mind When Humour

Is Mentioned.

 

"Oh No; Nothing like That.  She Never Says Anything

That You Can Remember; Nothing in flashes Or Ripples;

Nothing the Least Literary.  But It'S A Sort Of Droll

Way Of Looking at Things; Or A Droll Medium Through

Which Things Present Themselves.  I Don'T Know.

She Tells What She'S Seen,  And Mimics A Little."

 

"Oh," Said Mrs. Corey Coldly.  After A Moment She Asked:

"And Is Miss Irene As Pretty As Ever?"

 

"She'S A Wonderful Complexion," Said The Son Unsatisfactorily.

"I Shall Want To Be By When Father And Colonel Lapham Meet,"

He Added,  With A Smile.

 

"Ah,  Yes,  Your Father!" Said The Mother,  In that Way

In Which A Wife At Once Compassionates And Censures

Her Husband To Their Children.

 

"Do You Think It'S Really Going to Be A Trial To Him?"

Asked the Young Man Quickly.

 

"No,  No,  I Can'T Say It Is.  But I Confess I Wish It

Was Some Other Business,  Tom."

 

"Well,  Mother,  I Don'T See Why.  The Principal Thing

Looked at Now Is The Amount Of Money; And While I

Would Rather Starve Than Touch A Dollar That Was Dirty

With Any Sort Of Dishonesty----"

 

"Of Course You Would,  My Son!" Interposed his Mother Proudly.

 

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"I Shouldn'T At All Mind Its Having a Little Mineral Paint

On It.  I'Ll Use My Influence With Colonel Lapham--If I

Ever Have Any--To Have His Paint Scraped off The Landscape."

 

"I Suppose You Won'T Begin Till The Autumn."

 

"Oh Yes,  I Shall," Said The Son,  Laughing at His Mother'S

Simple Ignorance Of Business.  "I Shall Begin To-Morrow Morning."

 

"To-Morrow Morning!"

 

"Yes. I'Ve Had My Desk Appointed already,  And I Shall

Be Down There At Nine In the Morning to Take Possession."

 

"Tom" Cried his Mother,  "Why Do You Think Mr. Lapham Has

Taken You Into Business So Readily? I'Ve Always Heard

That It Was So Hard For Young Men To Get In."

 

"And Do You Think I Found It Easy With Him? We Had About

Twelve Hours' Solid Talk."

 

"And You Don'T Suppose It Was Any Sort Of--Personal Consideration?"

 

"Why,  I Don'T Know Exactly What You Mean,  Mother.

I Suppose He Likes Me."

 

Mrs. Corey Could Not Say Just What She Meant.  She Answered,

Ineffectually Enough--

 

"Yes. You Wouldn'T Like It To Be A Favour,  Would You?"

 

"I Think He'S A Man Who May Be Trusted to Look After His

Own Interest.  But I Don'T Mind His Beginning by Liking me.

It'Ll Be My Own Fault If I Don'T Make Myself Essential

To Him."

 

"Yes," Said Mrs. Corey.

 

"Well," Demanded her Husband,  At Their First Meeting after

Her Interview With Their Son,  "What Did You Say To Tom?"

 

"Very Little,  If Anything.  I Found Him With His Mind

Made Up,  And It Would Only Have Distressed him If I

Had Tried to Change It."

 

"That Is Precisely What I Said,  My Dear."

 

"Besides,  He Had Talked the Matter Over Fully With James,

And Seems To Have Been Advised by Him.  I Can'T Understand James."

 

"Oh! It'S In regard To The Paint,  And Not The Princess,

That He'S Made Up His Mind.  Well,  I Think You Were Wise

To Let Him Alone,  Anna.  We Represent A Faded tradition.

We Don'T Really Care What Business A Man Is In,  So It Is

Large Enough,  And He Doesn'T Advertise Offensively; But We

Think It Fine To Affect Reluctance."

 

"Do You Really Feel So,  Bromfield?" Asked his Wife Seriously. 

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"Certainly I Do.  There Was A Long Time In my Misguided

Youth When I Supposed myself Some Sort Of Porcelain;

But It'S A Relief To Be Of The Common Clay,  After All,

And To Know It.  If I Get Broken,  I Can Be Easily Replaced."

 

"If Tom Must Go Into Such A Business," Said Mrs. Corey,

"I'M Glad James Approves Of It."

 

"I'M Afraid It Wouldn'T Matter To Tom If He Didn'T;

And I Don'T Know That I Should Care," Said Corey,

Betraying the Fact That He Had Perhaps Had A Good Deal

Of His Brother-In-Law'S Judgment In the Course Of His Life.

"You Had Better Consult Him In regard To Tom'S Marrying

The Princess."

 

"There Is No Necessity At Present For That," Said Mrs. Corey,

With Dignity.  After A Moment,  She Asked,  "Should You Feel

Quite So Easy If It Were A Question Of That,  Bromfield?"

 

"It Would Be A Little More Personal."

 

"You Feel About It As I Do.  Of Course,  We Have Both

Lived too Long,  And Seen Too Much Of The World,

To Suppose We Can Control Such Things.  The Child Is Good,

I Haven'T The Least Doubt,  And All Those Things Can

Be Managed so That They Wouldn'T Disgrace Us.  But She

Has Had A Certain Sort Of Bringing up.  I Should Prefer

Tom To Marry A Girl With Another Sort,  And This Business

Venture Of His Increases The Chances That He Won'T. That'S All."

 

"''Tis Not So Deep As A Well,  Nor So Wide As A Church Door,

But 'Twill Serve.'"

 

"I Shouldn'T Like It."

 

"Well,  It Hasn'T Happened yet."

 

"Ah,  You Never Can Realise Anything beforehand."

 

"Perhaps That Has Saved me Some Suffering.  But You

Have At Least The Consolation Of Two Anxieties At Once.

I Always Find That A Great Advantage.  You Can Play One Off

Against The Other."

 

Mrs. Corey Drew A Long Breath As If She Did Not Experience

The Suggested consolation; And She Arranged to Quit,

The Following afternoon,  The Scene Of Her Defeat,

Which She Had Not Had The Courage To Make A Battlefield.

Her Son Went Down To See Her Off On The Boat,  After

Spending his First Day At His Desk In lapham'S Office.

He Was In