Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Poor families -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"If you possessed brain," my brother continued--"a thing which I am
sorry to say I do not suspect you of after I have had the pleasure
of exchanging these few words"--he bowed ironically--"you might have
perceived by now that I am no ordinary person, but of an artistic
turn of mind. These people"--he pointed again at my parents--"have,
unfortunately, little or no understanding of that, and will in all
probability fail to comprehend the greatness that the future holds in
store for me. That is, however, of little consequence; it is you whom
I expect to escape from your present station in life"--I admired the
delicate way in which he referred to my station--"as soon as possible.
It is true that you will never succeed in reaching the height destined
for me, but you may, nevertheless, go on to perfect yourself in every
way possible, in order to spare me the distress of blushing for your
ignorance and social standing later on."
My father had got up from the table some time before, and with his
hands crossed on his back nervously paced the room. He coughed now and
again, as if something irritated his throat, and it was plain that he
was angry. All at once he stopped in front of my brother.
"Don't you think," he asked, "that it would be best for you to mix with
your own class of people as soon as possible?"
"Why, of course," my brother replied with utter coolness, "I have
already decided to leave for Vienna to-morrow; all that I must ask you
is to let me have the money for the journey, a sum so trivial that I
can repay it to you multiplied a hundred times in a few months."
They looked quite calmly at each other, but it was a calm that seemed
to be loaded with thunder and lightning. My mother must have felt the
same, for she got up rather hastily, and her voice trembled as she
said: "There is plenty of time to settle that to-morrow. You had
better go to bed now."
The thunderstorm, however, broke next day. My brother insisted on a
certain sum of money, which my father thought too great and refused to
let him have the whole of it.
"Do you want me to reach Vienna without a single penny in my pockets?"
"I will give you as much as I can spare; there are the little ones to
be thought of; I cannot let them starve."
"Then you wish rather that I should starve?"
"I don't think that it would come to that. You are old enough to earn
your living."
"Old enough! Do you really mean to say that a fellow sixteen years of
age is old enough to earn his living?"
"Why not? I myself had to leave home when I was only a child of eleven,
and have worked for my living ever since."
"Worked for your living!" my brother cried scornfully. "Wasting money
and getting into debt to such an extent that no dog will take the
trouble to look at us. Do you call that working for your living?"
The veins showed thickly on my father's forehead.
"You wretch!" he cried, and flew at my brother's throat, "is that what
I get for having taken endless trouble to bring you up?"
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