Family -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Social conditions -- Fiction
"This isn't a time to be kind, my dear." His voice was quivering like her
own. "I'm bungling it--I'm bungling it--but you must let me stumble along
and try to show you what I mean. You will have your work, your crowded
schools, to which you'll be able to give your life. But I look ahead, I
who know you--and I don't see you happy, I don't even see you whole. For
you there will be no family. None of the intimate sorrows and joys that
have been in this house will come to you. I look back and I see them
all--for a man who has come so near the end gets a larger vision." He shut
his eyes, his jaw set tight. "I look into my family back and back, and I
see how it has been made of many generations. Certain figures stand out in
my mind--they cover over a hundred years. And I see how much they've meant
to me. I see that I've been one of them--a link in a long chain of
lives--all inter-bound and reaching on. In my life they have all been
here--as I shall be in lives to come.
"And this is what I want for you." He held her close a moment. The tears
were rolling down her cheeks. "Until now you have been one of us, too. You
have never once been free. You have been the one in this house to step in
and take hold and try to decide what's best to be done. I'm not putting you
up on a pedestal, I don't say you've made no mistakes--but I say you're the
kind of a woman who craves what's in a family. You're the one of my
daughters who has loved this house the most!"
"Yes," she said, "I've loved this house--"
"But now for you all this will stop--quite suddenly," he told her. "This
house of ours will soon be sold. And within a few months I shall be dead,
and your family will have dropped out of your life."
"Stop! Can't you? Stop! It's brutal! It isn't true about you!" she cried.
"I won't believe it!" Her voice broke.
"Go and see my physician," he said.
"How long have you known it? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because we had troubles enough as it was, other things to think of. But
there's only one thing now, this freedom you are facing."
"Please! Please!" she cried imploringly. "I don't want to talk of myself
but of you! This physician--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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