The Rise Of Silas Lapham By William Dean Howells Part 1, William Dean Howells [the red fox clan txt] 📗

Bit Of Drama.

A Man And Woman Issued from The Intersecting street,

And At The Moment Of Coming into Sight The Man,  Who Looked

Like A Sailor,  Caught The Woman By The Arm,  As If To

Detain Her.  A Brief Struggle Ensued,  The Woman Trying

To Free Herself,  And The Man Half Coaxing,  Half Scolding.

The Spectators Could Now See That He Was Drunk;

But Before They Could Decide Whether It Was A Case For

Their Interference Or Not,  The Woman Suddenly Set Both

Hands Against The Man'S Breast And Gave Him A Quick Push.

He Lost His Footing and Tumbled into A Heap In the Gutter.

The Woman Faltered an Instant,  As If To See Whether He Was

Seriously Hurt,  And Then Turned and Ran.

 

When Corey And The Book-Keeper Re-Entered the Office,

Miss Dewey Had Finished her Lunch,  And Was Putting a Sheet

Of Paper Into Her Type-Writer. She Looked up At Them With

Her Eyes Of Turquoise Blue,  Under Her Low White Forehead,

With The Hair Neatly Rippled over It,  And Then Began

To Beat The Keys Of Her Machine.

 

 

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Lapham Had The Pride Which Comes Of Self-Making,  And He

Would Not Openly Lower His Crest To The Young Fellow He

Had Taken Into His Business.  He Was Going to Be Obviously

Master In his Own Place To Every One; And During the Hours

Of Business He Did Nothing to Distinguish Corey From The

Half-Dozen Other Clerks And Book-Keepers In the Outer Office,

But He Was Not Silent About The Fact That Bromfield

Corey'S Son Had Taken A Fancy To Come To Him.  "Did You

Notice That Fellow At The Desk Facing my Type-Writer

Girl? Well,  Sir,  That'S The Son Of Bromfield Corey--Old

Phillips Corey'S Grandson.  And I'Ll Say This For Him,

That There Isn'T A Man In the Office That Looks After His

Work Better.  There Isn'T Anything he'S Too Good For.

He'S Right Here At Nine Every Morning,  Before The Clock

Gets In the Word.  I Guess It'S His Grandfather Coming out

In Him.  He'S Got Charge Of The Foreign Correspondence.

We'Re Pushing the Paint Everywhere." He Flattered himself

That He Did Not Lug The Matter In.  He Had Been Warned

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Against That By His Wife,  But He Had The Right To Do

Corey Justice,  And His Brag Took The Form Of Illustration.

"Talk About Training for Business--I Tell You It'S All

In The Man Himself! I Used to Believe In what Old Horace

Greeley Said About College Graduates Being the Poorest

Kind Of Horned cattle; But I'Ve Changed my Mind A Little.

You Take That Fellow Corey.  He'S Been Through Harvard,

And He'S Had About Every Advantage That A Fellow Could Have.

Been Everywhere,  And Talks Half A Dozen Languages

Like English.  I Suppose He'S Got Money Enough To Live

Without Lifting a Hand,  Any More Than His Father Does;

Son Of Bromfield Corey,  You Know.  But The Thing was In him.

He'S A Natural-Born Business Man; And I'Ve Had Many

A Fellow With Me That Had Come Up Out Of The Street,

And Worked hard All His Life,  Without Ever Losing his

Original Opposition To The Thing.  But Corey Likes It.

I Believe The Fellow Would Like To Stick At That Desk

Of His Night And Day.  I Don'T Know Where He Got It.

I Guess It Must Be His Grandfather,  Old Phillips Corey;

It Often Skips A Generation,  You Know.  But What I Say Is,

A Thing has Got To Be Born In a Man; And If It Ain'T Born

In Him,  All The Privations In the World Won'T Put It There,

And If It Is,  All The College Training won'T Take It

Out."

 

Sometimes Lapham Advanced these Ideas At His Own Table,

To A Guest Whom He Had Brought To Nantasket For The Night.

Then He Suffered exposure And Ridicule At The Hands Of

His Wife,  When Opportunity Offered.  She Would Not Let Him

Bring corey Down To Nantasket At All.

 

"No,  Indeed!" She Said.  "I Am Not Going to Have Them

Think We'Re Running after Him.  If He Wants To See Irene,

He Can Find Out Ways Of Doing it For Himself."

 

"Who Wants Him To See Irene?" Retorted the Colonel Angrily.

 

"I Do," Said Mrs. Lapham.  "And I Want Him To See

Her Without Any Of Your Connivance,  Silas.  I'M Not

Going to Have It Said That I Put My Girls At Anybody.

Why Don'T You Invite Some Of Your Other Clerks?"

 

"He Ain'T Just Like The Other Clerks.  He'S Going to Take

Charge Of A Part Of The Business.  It'S Quite Another Thing."

 

"Oh,  Indeed!" Said Mrs. Lapham Vexatiously.  "Then You

Are Going to Take A Partner."

 

"I Shall Ask Him Down If I Choose!" Returned the Colonel,

Disdaining her Insinuation.

 

His Wife Laughed with The Fearlessness Of A Woman

Who Knows Her Husband.

 

"But You Won'T Choose When You'Ve Thought It Over,  Si."

Then She Applied an Emollient To His Chafed surface.

"Don'T You Suppose I Feel As You Do About It? I Know

Just How Proud You Are,  And I'M Not Going to Have You

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Do Anything that Will Make You Feel Meeching afterward.

You Just Let Things Take Their Course.  If He Wants Irene,

He'S Going to Find Out Some Way Of Seeing her; And If He

Don'T,  All The Plotting and Planning in the World Isn'T Going

To Make Him."

 

"Who'S Plotting?" Again Retorted the Colonel,  Shuddering at

The Utterance Of Hopes And Ambitions Which A Man Hides

With Shame,  But A Woman Talks Over As Freely And Coolly

As If They Were Items Of A Milliner'S Bill.

 

"Oh,  Not You!" Exulted his Wife.  "I Understand What

You Want.  You Want To Get This Fellow,  Who Is Neither

Partner Nor Clerk,  Down Here To Talk Business With Him.

Well,  Now,  You Just Talk Business With Him At The Office."

 

The Only Social Attention Which Lapham Succeeded in

Offering corey Was To Take Him In his Buggy,  Now And Then,

For A Spin Out Over The Mill-Dam. He Kept The Mare In town,

And On A Pleasant Afternoon He Liked to Knock Off Early,

As He Phrased it,  And Let The Mare Out A Little.

Corey Understood Something about Horses,  Though In a

Passionless Way,  And He Would Have Preferred to Talk

Business When Obliged to Talk Horse.  But He Deferred to His

Business Superior With The Sense Of Discipline Which Is

Innate In the Apparently Insubordinate American Nature.

If Corey Could Hardly Have Helped feeling the Social

Difference Between Lapham And Himself,  In his Presence He

Silenced his Traditions,  And Showed him All The Respect

That He Could Have Exacted from Any Of His Clerks.

He Talked horse With Him,  And When The Colonel Wished he

Talked house.  Besides Himself And His Paint Lapham Had

Not Many Other Topics; And If He Had A Choice Between The

Mare And The Edifice On The Water Side Of Beacon Street,

It Was Just Now The Latter.  Sometimes,  In driving in or Out,

He Stopped at The House,  And Made Corey His Guest There,

If He Might Not At Nantasket; And One Day It Happened

That The Young Man Met Irene There Again.  She Had Come

Up With Her Mother Alone,  And They Were In the House,

Interviewing the Carpenter As Before,  When The Colonel

Jumped out Of His Buggy And Cast Anchor At The Pavement.

More Exactly,  Mrs. Lapham Was Interviewing the Carpenter,

And Irene Was Sitting in the Bow-Window On A Trestle,

And Looking out At The Driving.  She Saw Him Come Up

With Her Father,  And Bowed and Blushed.  Her Father Went

On Up-Stairs To Find Her Mother,  And Corey Pulled up Another

Trestle Which He Found In the Back Part Of The Room.

The First Floorings Had Been Laid Throughout The House,

And The Partitions Had Been Lathed so That One Could Realise The

Shape Of The Interior.

 

"I Suppose You Will Sit At This Window A Good Deal,"

Said The Young Man.

 

"Yes,  I Think It Will Be Very Nice.  There'S So Much

More Going on Than There Is In the Square."

 

"It Must Be Very Interesting to You To See The House Grow."

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"It Is.  Only It Doesn'T Seem To Grow So Fast As I Expected."

 

"Why,  I'M Amazed at The Progress Your Carpenter Has Made

Every Time I Come."

 

The Girl Looked down,  And Then Lifting her Eyes She Said,

With A Sort Of Timorous Appeal--

 

"I'Ve Been Reading that Book Since You Were Down At Nantasket."

 

"Book?" Repeated corey,  While She Reddened with Disappointment.

"Oh Yes.  Middlemarch.  Did You Like It?"

 

"I Haven'T Got Through With It Yet.  Pen Has Finished it."

 

"What Does She Think Of It?"

 

"Oh,  I Think She Likes It Very Well.  I Haven'T Heard

Her Talk About It Much.  Do You Like It?"

 

"Yes; I Liked it Immensely.  But It'S Several Years

Since I Read It."

 

"I Didn'T Know It Was So Old.  It'S Just Got Into

The Seaside Library," She Urged,  With A Little Sense

Of Injury In her Tone.

 

"Oh,  It Hasn'T Been Out Such A Very Great While,"

Said Corey Politely.  "It Came A Little Before Daniel Deronda."

 

The Girl Was Again Silent.  She Followed the Curl

Of A Shaving on The Floor With The Point Of Her Parasol.

 

"Do You Like That Rosamond Vincy?" She Asked,  Without Looking up.

 

Corey Smiled in his Kind Way.

 

"I Didn'T Suppose She Was Expected to Have Any Friends.

I Can'T Say I Liked her.  But I Don'T Think I Disliked

Her So Much As The Author Does.  She'S Pretty Hard On Her

Good-Looking"--He Was Going to Say Girls,  But As If That

Might Have Been Rather Personal,  He Said--"People."

 

"Yes,  That'S What Pen Says.  She Says She Doesn'T Give

Her Any Chance To Be Good.  She Says She Should Have Been

Just As Bad As Rosamond If She Had Been In