She told him. "Your dear, grand, old Mister Lamb's Henrietta has sent out invitations for a large party--a LARGE one. Everybody that is anybody in this town is asked, you can be sure. There's a very fine young man, a Mr. Russell, has just come to town, and he's interested in Alice, and he's asked her to go to this dance with him. Well, Alice can't accept. She can't go with him, though she'd give anything in the world to do it. Do you understand? The reason she can't is because Henrietta Lamb hasn't invited her. Do you want to know why Henrietta hasn't invited her? It's because she knows Alice can't get even, and because she thinks Alice ought to be snubbed like this on account of only being the daughter of one of her grandfather's clerks. IHOPE you understand!"
"Oh, my, my!" he said. "OH, my, my!"
"That's your sweet old employer," his wife cried, tauntingly.
"That's your dear, kind, grand old Mister Lamb! Alice has been left out of a good many smaller things, like big dinners and little dances, but this is just the same as serving her notice that she's out of everything! And it's all done by your dear, grand old----""Look here!" Adams exclaimed. "I don't want to hear any more of that! You can't hold him responsible for everything his grandchildren do, I guess! He probably doesn't know a thing about it. You don't suppose he's troubling HIS head over----"But she burst out at him passionately. "Suppose you trouble YOURhead about it! You'd better, Virgil Adams! You'd better, unless you want to see your child just dry up into a miserable old maid!
She's still young and she has a chance for happiness, if she had a father that didn't bring a millstone to hang around her neck, instead of what he ought to give her! You just wait till you die and God asks you what you had in your breast instead of a heart!""Oh, my, my!" he groaned. "What's my heart got to do with it?""Nothing! You haven't got one or you'd give her what she needed.
Am I asking anything you CAN'T do? You know better; you know I'm not!"At this he sat suddenly rigid, his troubled hands ceasing to rub his knees; and he looked at her fixedly. "Now, tell me," he said, slowly. "Just what ARE you asking?""You know!" she sobbed.
"You mean you've broken your word never to speak of THAT to me again?""What do _I_ care for my word?" she cried, and, sinking to the floor at his feet, rocked herself back and forth there. "Do you suppose I'll let my 'word' keep me from struggling for a little happiness for my children? It won't, I tell you; it won't! I'll struggle for that till I die! I will, till I die till I die!"He rubbed his head now instead of his knees, and, shaking all over, he got up and began with uncertain steps to pace the floor.
"Hell, hell, hell!" he said. "I've got to go through THATagain!"
"Yes, you have!" she sobbed. "Till I die.""Yes; that's what you been after all the time I was getting well.""Yes, I have, and I'll keep on till I die!""A fine wife for a man," he said. "Beggin' a man to be a dirty dog!""No! To be a MAN--and I'll keep on till I die!"Adams again fell back upon his last solace: he walked, half staggering, up and down the room, swearing in a rhythmic repetition.
His wife had repetitions of her own, and she kept at them in a voice that rose to a higher and higher pitch, like the sound of an old well-pump. "Till I die! Till I die! Till I DIE!"She ended in a scream; and Alice, coming up the stairs, thanked heaven that Russell had gone. She ran to her father's door and went in.
Adams looked at her, and gesticulated shakily at the convulsive figure on the floor. "Can you get her out of here?"Alice helped Mrs. Adams to her feet; and the stricken woman threw her arms passionately about her daughter.
"Get her out!" Adams said, harshly; then cried, "Wait!"Alice, moving toward the door, halted, and looked at him blankly, over her mother's shoulder. "What is it, papa?"He stretched out his arm and pointed at her. "She says--she says you have a mean life, Alice.""No, papa."
Mrs. Adams turned in her daughter's arms. "Do you hear her lie?
Couldn't you be as brave as she is, Virgil?""Are you lying, Alice?" he asked. "Do you have a mean time?""No, papa."
He came toward her. "Look at me!" he said. "Things like this dance now--is that so hard to bear?"Alice tried to say, "No, papa," again, but she couldn't.
Suddenly and in spite of herself she began to cry.
"Do you hear her?" his wife sobbed. "Now do you----"He waved at them fiercely. "Get out of here!" he said. "Both of you! Get out of here!"As they went, he dropped in his chair and bent far forward, so that his haggard face was concealed from them. Then, as Alice closed the door, he began to rub his knees again, muttering, "Oh, my, my! OH, my, my!"
