Read Online Washington Square by Henry James - Free Book Online Page B

proper,” said Doctor Sloper. “I often think there is not enough of it in our city. I think I have heard of your sister.”
    â€œIt is possible, but I rather doubt it; she lives so very quietly.”
    â€œAs quietly, you mean,” the doctor went on, with a short laugh, “as a lady may do who has several young children.”
    â€œAh, my little nephews and nieces—that’s the very point!
I am helping to bring them up,” said Morris Townsend. “I am a kind of amateur tutor; I give them lessons.”
    â€œThat’s very proper, as I say; but it is hardly a career.”
    â€œIt won’t make my fortune,” the young man confessed.
    â€œYou must not be too much bent on a fortune,” said the doctor. “But I assure you I will keep you in mind; I won’t lose sight of you.”
    â€œIf my situation becomes desperate I shall perhaps take the liberty of reminding you,” Morris rejoined, raising his voice a little, with a brighter smile, as his interlocutor turned away.
    Before he left the house the doctor had a few words with Mrs. Almond.
    â€œI should like to see his sister,” he said. “What do you call her—Mrs. Montgomery? I should like to have a little talk with her.”
    â€œI will try and manage it,” Mrs. Almond responded. “I will take the first opportunity of inviting her, and you shall come and meet her; unless, indeed,” Mrs. Almond added, “she first takes it into her head to be sick and to send for you.”
    â€œAh no, not that; she must have trouble enough without that. But it would have its advantages, for then I should see the children. I should like very much to see the children.”
    â€œYou are very thorough. Do you want to catechize them about their uncle?”
    â€œPrecisely. Their uncle tells me he has charge of their education, that he saves their mother the expense of school bills. I should like to ask them a few questions in the commoner branches.”
    â€œHe certainly has not the cut of a schoolmaster,” Mrs.
Almond said to herself a short time afterward, as she saw Morris Townsend in a corner bending over her niece, who was seated.
    And there was, indeed, nothing in the young man’s discourse at this moment that savored of the pedagogue.
    â€œWill you meet me somewhere tomorrow or next day?” he said, in a low tone, to Catherine.
    â€œMeet you?” she asked, lifting her frightened eyes.
    â€œI have something particular to say to you—very particular.”
    â€œCan’t you come to the house? Can’t you say it there?”
    Townsend shook his head gloomily. “I can’t enter your doors again.”
    â€œOh, Mr. Townsend!” murmured Catherine. She trembled as she wondered what had happened—whether her father had forbidden it.
    â€œI can’t, in self-respect,” said the young man. “Your father has insulted me.”
    â€œInsulted you?”
    â€œHe has taunted me with my poverty.”
    â€œOh, you are mistaken—you misunderstood him!” Catherine spoke with energy, getting up from her chair.
    â€œPerhaps I am too proud—too sensitive. But would you have me otherwise?” he asked, tenderly.
    â€œWhere my father is concerned, you must not be sure. He is full of goodness,” said Catherine.
    â€œHe laughed at me for having no position. I took it quietly; but only because he belongs to you.”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Catherine, “I don’t know what he thinks. I am sure he means to be kind. You must not be too proud.”
    â€œI will be proud only of you,” Morris answered. “Will you meet me in the Square in the afternoon?”
    A great blush on Catherine’s part had been the answer to the declaration I have just quoted. She turned away, heedless of his question.
    â€œWill you meet me?” he repeated. “It is very quiet there—no one need see