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

confidence; but her
distrust had been aroused, and in spite of her recovered good-humour I felt
that I should not be allowed to see Stephen.
                 In
this respect poor Mrs. Glenn could not help me. She could only repeat the
lesson which had evidently been drilled into her. “Why should
I deny what’s so evident—and so natural? When Stevie’s ill and unhappy
it’s not to me he turns. During so many years he knew nothing of me, never even
suspected my existence; and all the while they were there, watching over him, loving him, slaving for him. If he concealed his
real feelings now it might be only on account of the—the financial inducements;
and I like to think my boy’s too proud for that. If you see
him, you’ll tell him so, won’t you? You’ll tell him that, unhappy as he’s
making me, mistaken as he is, I enter into his feelings as—as only his mother
can.” She broke down, and hid her face from me.
                 When
she regained her composure she rose and went over to the writing-table. From
the blotting-book she drew an envelope. “I’ve drawn this cheque in your name—it
may be easier for you to get Stevie to accept a few bank-notes than a cheque.
You must try to persuade him—tell him his behaviour is making the Browns just
as unhappy as it is me, and that he has no right to be cruel to them, at any
rate.” She lifted her head and looked into my eyes heroically.
                 I
went home perplexed, and pondering on my next move; but (not wholly to my
surprise) the question was settled for me the following morning by a telephone
call from Mrs. Brown. Her voice rang out cheerfully.
                 “Good
news! I’ve had a talk with Steve’s doctor—on the sly, of course. Steve would
kill me if he knew! The doctor says he’s really better; you can see him today
if you’ll promise to stay only a few minutes. Of course I must first persuade
Steve himself, the silly boy. You can’t think what a savage mood he’s in. But
I’m sure I can bring him round—he’s so fond of you. Only before that I want to
see you myself—” (“Of course,” I commented inwardly, feeling that here at last was
the gist of the communication.) “Can I come presently—before you go out? All
right; I’ll turn up in an hour.”
                 Within
the hour she was at my hotel; but before her arrival I had decided on my
course, and she on her side had probably guessed what it would be. Our first
phrases, however, were non-committal. As we exchanged them I saw that Mrs.
Brown’s self-confidence was weakening, and this incited me to prolong the
exchange. Stephen’s doctor, she assured me, was most encouraging; one lung only
was affected, and that slightly; his recovery now depended on careful nursing,
good food, cheerful company—all the things of which, in his foolish obstinacy,
he had chosen to deprive himself. She paused, expectant—
                 “And
if Mrs. Glenn handed over his allowance to you, you could ensure his accepting
what he’s too obstinate to take from his mother?”
                 Under
her carefully prepared complexion the blood rushed to her temples. “I always
knew you were Steve’s best friend!” She looked away quickly, as if to hide the
triumph in her eyes.
                 “Well,
if I am, he’s first got to recognise it by seeing me.”
                 “Of course—of course!” She corrected her impetuosity. “I’ll
do all I can …”
                 “That’s
a great deal, as we know.” Under their lowered lashes her eyes followed my
movements as I turned my coat back to reach an inner pocket. She pressed her
lips tight to control their twitching. “There, then!” I said.
                 “Oh, you angel, you! I should never have dared to ask
Catherine,” she stammered with a faint laugh as the banknotes passed from my hand
to her bag.