Christian fiction; Domestic fiction; Families -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
But presently the tears had spent themselves, and she began to wipe
her eyes and look around. Her father’s room was as desolate as any
other. There was no evidence of an attempt to put comfort into it.
The upper part of the heavy walnut bureau, with its massive mirror
that Cornelia remembered as a part of the furniture of her mother’s
room since she was a baby, had not been screwed to the bureau, but
was standing on the floor as if it had just moved in. The bureau-top
was covered with dust, worn, mussed neckties, soiled collars, and a
few old letters. Her father’s few garments were strewn about the room
and the open closet door revealed some of her mother’s garments, old
ones that Cornelia remembered she had had before she herself went to
college.
On the unmade bed, close beside the pillow, as if it had been
cherished for comfort, was one of mother’s old calico wrappers. It
was lying where a cheek might conveniently rest against it. Somehow
Cornelia didn’t think of that explanation of its presence there at
first; but later it grew into her consciousness, and the pathetic
side of it filled her with dismay. Was life like this always, or was
this a special preparation for her benefit?
Somehow, as she sat there, her position as a selfish, unloving
daughter became intolerable. Could it be possible that the children
had spoken truly and that the family had been in straightened
circumstances for a longer time than just a few weeks, on account
of keeping her in college? The color burned in her cheeks, and her
eyes grew heavy with shame. How shabby everything looked! She didn’t
remember it that way. Her home had always seemed a comfortable one
as she looked back upon it. Somehow she could not understand. But the
one thought that burned into her soul was that they had somehow felt
her lacking, ungrateful.
Suddenly she was stung into action. They should see that she was no
selfish, idle member of the family group. At least, she could be as
brave as they were. She would go to work and make a difference in
things before they came home. She would show them!
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