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

 

His Wife Permitted him This Pretence Also.  "What Sort

Of A Person Is He,  Anyway?"

 

"Well,  Not Much Like His Son.  There'S No Sort Of Business

About Him.  I Don'T Know Just How You'D Describe Him.

He'S Tall; And He'S Got White Hair And A Moustache;

And His Fingers Are Very Long And Limber.  I Couldn'T Help

Noticing them As He Sat There With His Hands On The Top

Of His Cane.  Didn'T Seem To Be Dressed very Much,  And Acted

Just Like Anybody.  Didn'T Talk Much.  Guess I Did Most

Of The Talking.  Said He Was Glad I Seemed to Be Getting

Along So Well With His Son.  He Asked after You And Irene;

And He Said He Couldn'T Feel Just Like A Stranger.

Said You Had Been Very Kind To His Wife.  Of Course I Turned

It Off.  Yes," Said Lapham Thoughtfully,  With His Hands

Resting on His Knees,  And His Cigar Between The Fingers

Of His Left Hand,  "I Guess He Meant To Do The Right Thing,

Every Way.  Don'T Know As I Ever Saw A Much Pleasanter Man.

Dunno But What He'S About The Pleasantest Man I Ever

Did See." He Was Not Letting his Wife See In his Averted

Face The Struggle That Revealed itself There--The

Struggle Of Stalwart Achievement Not To Feel Flattered

At The Notice Of Sterile Elegance,  Not To Be Sneakingly

Glad Of Its Amiability,  But To Stand Up And Look At It

With Eyes On The Same Level.  God,  Who Made Us So Much

Like Himself,  But Out Of The Dust,  Alone Knows When

That Struggle Will End.  The Time Had Been When Lapham

Could Not Have Imagined any Worldly Splendour Which His

Dollars Could Not Buy If He Chose To Spend Them For It;

But His Wife'S Half Discoveries,  Taking form Again In his

Ignorance Of The World,  Filled him With Helpless Misgiving.

A Cloudy Vision Of Something unpurchasable,  Where He

Had Supposed there Was Nothing,  Had Cowed him In spite

Of The Burly Resistance Of His Pride.

 

"I Don'T See Why He Shouldn'T Be Pleasant," Said Mrs. Lapham.

"He'S Never Done Anything else."

 

Lapham Looked up Consciously,  With An Uneasy Laugh.

"Pshaw,  Persis! You Never Forget Anything?"

 

"Oh,  I'Ve Got More Than That To Remember.  I Suppose You

Asked him To Ride After The Mare?"

 

"Well," Said Lapham,  Reddening guiltily,  "He Said He

Was Afraid Of A Good Horse."

 

"Then,  Of Course,  You Hadn'T Asked him." Mrs. Lapham

Crocheted in silence,  And Her Husband Leaned back

In His Chair And Smoked.

 

At Last He Said,  "I'M Going to Push That House Forward.

They'Re Loafing on It.  There'S No Reason Why We Shouldn'T

Be In it By Thanksgiving.  I Don'T Believe In moving in

The Dead Of Winter."

 

"We Can Wait Till Spring.  We'Re Very Comfortable In the

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Old Place," Answered his Wife.  Then She Broke Out On Him:

"What Are You In such A Hurry To Get Into That House

For? Do You Want To Invite The Coreys To A House-Warming?"

 

Lapham Looked at Her Without Speaking.

 

"Don'T You Suppose I Can See Through You I Declare,

Silas Lapham,  If I Didn'T Know Different,  I Should Say

You Were About The Biggest Fool! Don'T You Know Anything?

Don'T You Know That It Wouldn'T Do To Ask Those People

To Our House Before They'Ve Asked us To Theirs? They'D

Laugh In our Faces!"

 

"I Don'T Believe They'D Laugh In our Faces.  What'S The

Difference Between Our Asking them And Their Asking us?"

Demanded the Colonel Sulkily.

 

"Oh,  Well! If You Don T See!"

 

"Well,  I Don'T See.  But I Don'T Want To Ask Them

To The House.  I Suppose,  If I Want To,  I Can Invite

Him Down To A Fish Dinner At Taft'S."

 

Mrs. Lapham Fell Back In her Chair,  And Let Her Work

Drop In her Lap With That "Tckk!" In which Her Sex Knows

How To Express Utter Contempt And Despair.

 

"What'S The Matter?"

 

"Well,  If You Do Such A Thing,  Silas,  I'Ll Never Speak

To You Again! It'S No Use! It'S No Use! I Did Think,

After You'D Behaved so Well About Rogers,  I Might Trust

You A Little.  But I See I Can'T. I Presume As Long As You

Live You'Ll Have To Be Nosed about Like A Perfect--I Don'T

Know What!"

 

"What Are You Making such A Fuss About?" Demanded lapham,

Terribly Crestfallen,  But Trying to Pluck Up A Spirit.

"I Haven'T Done Anything yet.  I Can'T Ask Your Advice

About Anything any More Without Having you Fly Out.

Confound It! I Shall Do As I Please After This."

 

But As If He Could Not Endure That Contemptuous Atmosphere,

He Got Up,  And His Wife Heard Him In the Dining-Room

Pouring himself Out A Glass Of Ice-Water,  And Then Heard

Him Mount The Stairs To Their Room,  And Slam Its Door

After Him.

 

"Do You Know What Your Father'S Wanting to Do Now?"

Mrs. Lapham Asked her Eldest Daughter,  Who Lounged

Into The Parlour A Moment With Her Wrap Stringing

From Her Arm,  While The Younger Went Straight To Bed.

"He Wants To Invite Mr. Corey'S Father To A Fish Dinner

At Taft'S!"

 

Penelope Was Yawning with Her Hand On Her Mouth;

She Stopped,  And,  With A Laugh Of Amused expectance,

Sank Into A Chair,  Her Shoulders Shrugged forward. 

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"Why! What In the World Has Put The Colonel Up To That?"

 

"Put Him Up To It! There'S That Fellow,  Who Ought Have Come

To See Him Long Ago,  Drops Into His Office This Morning,

And Talks Five Minutes With Him,  And Your Father Is

Flattered out Of His Five Senses.  He'S Crazy To Get

In With Those People,  And I Shall Have A Perfect Battle

To Keep Him Within Bounds."

 

"Well,  Persis,  Ma'Am,  You Can'T Say But What You Began It,"

Said Penelope.

 

"Oh Yes,  I Began It," Confessed mrs. Lapham.  "Pen," She

Broke Out,  "What Do You Suppose He Means By It?"

 

"Who? Mr. Corey'S Father? What Does The Colonel Think?"

 

"Oh,  The Colonel!" Cried mrs. Lapham.  She Added tremulously:

"Perhaps He Is Right.  He Did Seem To Take A Fancy To Her

Last Summer,  And Now If He'S Called in that Way . . ." She Left

Her Daughter To Distribute The Pronouns Aright,  And Resumed:

"Of Course,  I Should Have Said Once That There Wasn'T

Any Question About It.  I Should Have Said So Last Year;

And I Don'T Know What It Is Keeps Me From Saying so Now.

I Suppose I Know A Little More About Things Than I Did;

And Your Father'S Being so Bent On It Sets Me All In

A Twitter.  He Thinks His Money Can Do Everything.

Well,  I Don'T Say But What It Can,  A Good Many.  And 'Rene

Is As Good A Child As Ever There Was; And I Don'T See

But What She'S Pretty-Appearing enough To Suit Any One.

She'S Pretty-Behaved,  Too; And She Is The Most Capable Girl.

I Presume Young Men Don'T Care Very Much For Such

Things Nowadays; But There Ain'T A Great Many Girls

Can Go Right Into The Kitchen,  And Make Such A Custard

As She Did Yesterday.  And Look At The Way She Does,

Through The Whole House! She Can'T Seem To Go Into A Room

Without The Things Fly Right Into Their Places.  And If She

Had To Do It To-Morrow,  She Could Make All Her Own Dresses

A Great Deal Better Than Them We Pay To Do It.  I Don'T

Say But What He'S About As Nice A Fellow As Ever Stepped.

But There! I'M Ashamed of Going on So."

 

"Well,  Mother," Said The Girl After A Pause,  In which She

Looked as If A Little Weary Of The Subject,  "Why Do You

Worry About It? If It'S To Be It'Ll Be,  And If It Isn'T----"

 

"Yes,  That'S What I Tell Your Father.  But When It Comes

To Myself,  I See How Hard It Is For Him To Rest Quiet.

I'M Afraid We Shall All Do Something we'Ll Repent

Of Afterwards."

 

"Well,  Ma'Am," Said Penelope,  "I Don'T Intend To Do Anything wrong;

But If I Do,  I Promise Not To Be Sorry For It.  I'Ll Go

That Far.  And I Think I Wouldn'T Be Sorry For It Beforehand,

If I Were In your Place,  Mother.  Let The Colonel Go On! He

Likes To Manoeuvre,  And He Isn'T Going to Hurt Any One.

The Corey Family Can Take Care Of Themselves,  I Guess."

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She Laughed in her Throat,  Drawing down The Corners

Of Her Mouth,  And Enjoying the Resolution With Which Her

Mother Tried to Fling off The Burden Of Her Anxieties.

"Pen! I Believe You'Re Right.  You Always Do See Things

In Such A Light! There! I Don'T Care If He Brings Him

Down Every Day."

 

"Well,  Ma'Am," Said Pen,  "I Don'T Believe

'Rene Would,  Either.  She'S Just So Indifferent!"

 

The Colonel Slept Badly That Night,  And In the Morning

Mrs. Lapham Came To Breakfast Without Him.

 

"Your Father Ain'T Well," She Reported.  "He'S Had One

Of His Turns."

 

"I Should Have Thought He Had Two Or Three Of Them,"

Said Penelope,  "By The Stamping round I Heard.  Isn'T He

Coming to Breakfast?"

 

"Not Just Yet," Said Her Mother.  "He'S Asleep,

And He'Ll Be All Right If He Gets His Nap Out.

I Don'T Want You Girls Should Make Any Great Noise."

"Oh,  We'Ll Be Quiet Enough," Returned penelope.

"Well,  I'M Glad The Colonel Isn'T Sojering.  At First I

Thought He Might Be Sojering." She Broke Into A Laugh,

And,  Struggling indolently With It,  Looked at Her Sister.

"You Don'T Think It'Ll Be Necessary For Anybody To Come

Down From The Office And Take Orders From Him While He'S

Laid Up,  Do You,  Mother?" She Inquired.

 

"Pen!" Cried irene.

 

"He'Ll Be Well Enough To Go Up On The Ten O'Clock Boat,"

Said The Mother Sharply.

 

"I Think Papa Works Too Hard All Through The Summer.

Why Don'T You Make Him Take A Rest,  Mamma?" Asked irene.

 

"Oh,  Take A Rest! The Man Slaves Harder Every Year.

It Used to Be So That He'D Take A Little Time Off Now And Then;

But I Declare,  He Hardly Ever Seems To Breathe Now Away From

His Office.  And This Year He Says He Doesn'T Intend To Go

Down To Lapham,  Except To See After The Works For A Few Days.

I Don'T Know What To Do With The Man Any More! Seems

As If The More Money He Got,  The More He Wanted to Get.

It Scares Me To Think What Would Happen To Him If He

Lost It.  I Know One Thing," Concluded mrs. Lapham.

"He Shall