Read Online Edith Wharton - SSC 09 by Human Nature (v2.1) - Free Book Online Page A

I’d see that he gets
it—and that he uses it. He would, you know , if he
thought it came from Boy and me.”
                 I
looked at her quickly. “That’s why you want me to see her. To get her to give
you her son’s allowance?”
                 Her
lips parted as if she were about to return an irritated answer; but she twisted
them into a smile. “If you like to describe it in that way—I can’t help your putting an unkind interpretation on whatever I do. I
was prepared for that when I came here.” She turned her bright inclement face
on me. “If you think I enjoy humiliating myself] After all, it’s not so much
for Stephen that I ask it as for his mother. Have you thought of that? If she
knew that in his crazy pride he was depriving himself of the most necessary
things, wouldn’t she do anything on earth to prevent it? She’s his real mother … I’m nothing …”
                 “You’re
everything, if he sees you and listens to you.”
                 She
received this with the air of secret triumph that met every allusion to her
power over Stephen. Was she right, I wondered, in saying that she loved him
even more than his mother did? “Everything?” she murmured deprecatingly. “It’s
you who are everything, who can help us all. What can I do?”
                 I
pondered a moment, and then said: “You can let me see Stephen.”
                 The
colour rushed up under her powder. “Much good that would
do—if I could! But I’m afraid you’ll find his door barricaded.”
                 “That’s
a pity,” I said coldly.
                 “It’s
very foolish of him,” she assented.
                 Our
conversation had reached a deadlock, and I saw that she was distinctly
disappointed—perhaps even more than I was. I suspected that while I could
afford to wait for a solution she could not.
                 “Of
course, if Catherine is willing to sit by and see the boy starve”—she began.
                 “What
else can she do? Shall we go over to the Nouveau Luxe bar and study the problem
from the cock-tail angle?” I suggested.
                 Mrs.
Brown’s delicately pencilled brows gathered over her transparent eyes. “You’re
laughing at me—and at Steve. It’s rather heartless of you, you know,” she said,
making a movement to rise from the deep armchair in which I had installed her.
Her movements, as always, were quick and smooth; she got up and sat down with
the ease of youth. But her face star-tied me—it had suddenly shrunk and
withered, so that the glitter of cosmetics hung before it like a veil. A pang
of compunction shot through me. I felt that it was heartless to make her look like that. I could no longer endure
the part I was playing. “I’ll—I’ll see what I can do to arrange things,” I
stammered. “If only she’s not too servile,” I thought, feeling that my next
move hung on the way in which she received my reassurance.
                 She
stood up with a quick smile. “Ogre!” she just breathed, her lashes dancing. She
was laughing at me under her breath—the one thing she could have done just then
without offending me. “Come; we do need refreshment, don’t we?” She slipped her arm through mine as we crossed the
lounge and emerged on the wet pavement.
                   
     
  X.
 
 
                 The
cosy evening with which Mrs. Brown had tempted me was not productive of much
enlightenment. I found Catherine Glenn tired and pale, but happy at my coming,
with a sort of furtive school-girl happiness which suggested the same secret
apprehension as I had seen in Mrs. Brown’s face when she found I would not help
her to capture Stephen’s allowance. I had already perceived my mistake in
letting Mrs. Brown see this, and during our cock-tail
epilogue at the Nouveau Luxe had tried to restore her