Ultima Thule by Henry Handel Richardson Read Free Book Online Page B

I think it would be nicer just to be like oneself. Instead of a kind of copy."
    To no one else would she have confided so heretical a sentiment. But Uncle Richard always understood.
    And sure enough: "I can see your point, Emmy," said he. "You think: to a new soul why not a brand-new covering? All the same, child, do not begrudge a poor wraith its sole chance of cheating oblivion."
    "I only mean -- "
    "I can assure you, you've nothing to fear from the comparison, nothing at all!" And Mahony patted his niece's hand, looking fondly at her in her white, flounced tarlatan, a narrow blue ribbon round her narrow waist, a wreath of forget-me-nots in her ripe-corn hair. There was no danger to Emmy in letting her know what you thought of her, so free from vanity was she. Just a good, sweet, simple creature.
    But here the girl bethought herself of her errand. "Oh yes, Aunt Mary sent me to tell you . . . I mean she thought, Uncle, you might like to come and see what fun the children are having."
    On the instant Mahony lost his warmth. "No, no. I'm not in the mood."
    "Uncle, the Murdochs and the Archie Whites are here . . . people who'd very much like to see you," Emmy gently transposed Mary's words.
    "Entirely your aunt's imagination, child! In reality she knows as well as I do that it's not so. In the course of a fairly long life, my dear, I have always been able to count on the fingers of one hand, those people -- my patients excepted, of course -- who have cared a straw whether I was alive or dead. No, Emmy. The plain truth is: my fellow-men have little use for me -- or I for them."
    "Oh, Uncle . . . " Emmy was confused, and showed it. Talk of this kind made her feel very shy. She could not think of anything to say in response: how to refute ideas which she was sure were not true. Positively sure. For they opened up abysses into which, young girl-like, she was afraid to peer. An awkward pause ensued before she asked timidly: "Do you feel very tired to-night?"
    "To the depths of my soul, child!" Then, fearing lest he had startled her with his violence, he added: "I've had -- and still have -- great worries, my dear . . . business worries."
    "Is it the practice, Uncle? Doesn't it do well?"
    "That, too. But I have made a sad fool of myself, Emmy -- a sad fool. And now here I sit, puzzling how to repair the mischief."
    Alone again, he let himself fall back into the limp attitude in which she had surprised him. It was well-being just to lie back, every muscle relaxed. He came home from tramping the streets dog-tired, and all of a sweat: as drained of strength as a squeezed lemon.
    No one else appeared to disturb him. Emmy, bless her! had done her work well, and Mary might now reasonably be expected to leave him in peace. Let them jig and dance to the top of their bent, provided he was not asked to join in. He washed his hands of the whole affair. From the outset, the elaborate preparations for this party had put his back up. It was not that he wanted to act the wet-blanket on his children's enjoyment. But the way Mary went about things stood in absolutely no relation to his shrunken income. She was striving to keep pace with people who could reckon theirs by the thousand. It was absurd. Of course she had grown so used, in the latter years, to spending royally, that it was hard for her now to trim her sails. Just, too, when the bairns were coming to an age to appreciate the good things of life. Again, his reason nudged him with the reminder that any ultra-extravagance on her part was due, in the first place, to her ignorance of his embarrassments. He had not enlightened her . . . he never would. He felt more and more incapable of standing up to her incredulous dismay. In cold blood, it seemed impossible to face her with the tidings: "The house we live in is not our own. I have run myself -- run you and the children -- into debt to the tune of hundreds of pounds!" At the mere thought of it he might have been a boy once more, standing before