New York (N.Y.) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Twining's menace was not carried out. There was no actual reconciliation
between husband and wife, and yet matters slowly rearranged themselves.
The domestic machinery, being again set moving, went at first in a lame,
spasmodic way, as though jarred and strained through all its wheel-work.
But by degrees the old order of things returned. And yet a marked
change, in one respect at least, was always afterward evident. Mrs.
Twining had received a clear admonition, and she was discreet enough
permanently to regard it. She still dealt in her former slurs and
innuendoes; the leopard could not change its spots; no such radical
reformation was naturally to be expected. But Twining had put forth his
protest; he had shown very plainly that his endurance had its limits,
and through all the years that followed, his wife never lost sight of
this vivid little fact. She had been seriously frightened, and the
fright left its vibration of warning as long as she and her husband
dwelt under the same roof. Her sting had by no means been extracted, but
its point was blunter and its poison less irritant. She never again
struck Claire. She was sometimes very imperious to her daughter, and
very acrimonious as well. But in her conduct there was now a sombre
acknowledgment of curtailed authority,--an under-current of concession,
occasionally rather faint, it is true, yet always operative.
During the next year the family deserted One-Hundred-and-Twelfth Street
for a new place of abode. Twining received a few extra hundreds as
earnest of shadowy thousands promised him by a glib-tongued rogue who
was to appall the medical world with a wondrous compound that must soon
rob half the diseases known to pathology of their last terrors. The
elixir was to be "placed handsomely on the market," and toward this
elegant enterprise poor Twining gave serious aid. For the lump of
savings that went from him, however, he was paid only a tithe of his
rash investment. One day he learned that the humane chemist had fled
from the scene of his proposed benignities, and a little later came the
drear discovery that his miraculous potion was merely an unskillful
blending of two or three common specifics with as many popular nervines.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account