The Book of Susan: A Novel. Dodd Lee Wilson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ with charming manners, a fluent command of the purest convent-taught French, a nice touch on the piano, and apparently some slight acquaintance with the solider branches. Merely to associate with Miss Disbrow would, I felt, do much for Susan.

      I was less certain about Sonia, the maid. I had asked for a middle-aged English maid. Sonia was Russian, and she was only twenty-three. But she was sent directly to me from service with Countess Dimbrovitski – formerly, as you know, Maud Hochstetter, of Omaha – and brought with her a most glowing reference for skill, honesty, and unfailing tact. Countess Dimbrovitski did not explain in the reference, dated from Newport, why she had permitted this paragon to slip from her; nor did it occur to me to investigate the point. But Sonia later explained it all, in intimate detail, to Susan – as we shall see.

      I had feared that Susan might be at first a little bewildered by the attentions of Sonia and of Miss Disbrow; so I explained the unusual situation to Miss Goucher and Miss Disbrow – with certain reservations – and asked them to make it clear to Sonia. Miss Goucher merely nodded, curtly enough, and said she understood. Miss Disbrow proved more curious and more voluble.

      "How wonderful of you, Mr. Hunt!" she exclaimed. "To take in a poor little waif and do all this for her! Personally, I count it a privilege to be allowed some share in so generous an action. Oh, but I do – I do. One likes to feel, even when forced to work for one's living, that one has some little opportunity to do good in the world. Life isn't," asked Miss Disbrow, "all money-grubbing and selfishness, is it?" And as I found no ready answer, she concluded: "But I need hardly ask that of you!"

      For the fleetingest second I found myself wondering whether Miss Disbrow, deep down in her hidden heart, might not be a minx. Yet her glance, the happiest mixture of frankness, timidity, and respectful admiration, disarmed me. I dismissed the unworthy suspicion as absurd.

      I was a little troubled, though, when Susan that same evening after dinner came to me in the library and seated herself on a low stool facing my easy-chair.

      "Ambo," she said, "I've been blind as blind, haven't I?"

      "Have you?" I responded. "For a blind girl, it's wonderful how you find your way about!"

      "But I'm not joking – and that's just it," said Susan.

      "What's wrong, dear?" I asked. "I see something is."

      "Yes. I am. The wrongest possible. I've just dumped myself on you, and stayed here; and – and I've no damn business here at all!"

      "I thought we were going to forget the damns and hells, Susan?"

      "We are," said Susan, coloring sharply and looking as if she wanted to cry. "But when you've heard them, and worse, every minute all your life – it's pretty hard to forget. You must scold me more!" Then with a swift movement she leaned forward and laid her cheek on my knee. "You're too good to me, Ambo. I oughtn't to be here – wearing wonderful dresses, having a maid to do my hair and – and polish me and button me and mend me. I wasn't meant to have an easy time; I wasn't born for it. First thing you know, Ambo, I'll get to thinking I was – and be mean to you somehow!"

      "I'll risk that, Susan."

      "Yes, but I oughtn't to let you. I could learn to be somebody's maid like Sonia; and if I study hard – and I'm going to! – some day I could be a governess like Miss Disbrow; only really know things, not just pretend. Or when I'm old enough, a housekeeper like Miss Goucher! That's what you should make me do – work for you! I can clean things better than Nora now; I never skip underneaths. Truly, Ambo, it's all wrong, my having people work for me – at your expense. I know it is! Miss Disbrow made it all clear as clear, right away."

      "What! Has Miss Disbrow been stuffing this nonsense into your head!" I was furious.

      "Oh, not in words!" cried Susan. "She talks just the other way. She keeps telling me how fortunate I am to have a guardian like you, and how I must be so careful never to annoy you or make you regret what you've done for me. Then she sighs and says life is very hard and unjust to many girls born with more advantages. Of course she means herself, Ambo. You see, she hates having to work at all. She's much nicer to look at and talk to, but she reminds me of Pearl. She's no damn – she's no good, Ambo dear. She's hard where she ought to be soft, and soft where she ought to be hard. She tries to get round people, so she can coax things out of them. But she'll never get round Miss Goucher, Ambo – or me." And Susan hesitated, lifting her head from my knee and looking up at me doubtfully, only to add, "I – I'm not so sure about you."

      "Indeed. You think, possibly, Miss Disbrow might get round me, eh?"

      "Well, she might – if I wasn't here," said Susan. "She might marry you."

      My explosion of laughter – I am ordinarily a quiet person – startled Susan. "Have I said something awful again?" she cried.

      "Dreadful!" I sputtered, wiping my eyes. "Why, you little goose! Don't you see how I need you? To plumb the depths for me – to protect me? I thought I was your guardian, Susan; but that's just my mannish complacency. I'm not your guardian at all, dear. You're mine."

      But I saw at once that my mirth had confused her, had hurt her feelings… I reached out for her hands and drew her upon my knees.

      "Susan," I said, "Miss Disbrow couldn't marry me even if she got round me, and wanted to. You see, I have a wife already."

      Susan stared at me with wide, frightened eyes. "You have, Ambo? Where is she?"

      "She left me two years ago."

      "Left you?" It was evident that she did not understand. "Oh – what will she say when she comes home and finds me here? She won't like it; she won't like me!" wailed Susan. "I know she won't."

      "Hush, dear. She's not coming home again. She made up her mind that she couldn't live with me any more."

      "What's her name?"

      "Gertrude."

      "Why couldn't she live with you, Ambo?"

      "She said I was cruel to her."

      "Weren't you good to her, Ambo? Why? Didn't you like her?"

      The rapid questions were so unexpected, so searching, that I gasped. And my first impulse was to lie to Susan, to put her off with a few conventional phrases – phrases that would lead the child to suppose me a wronged, lonely, broken-hearted man. This would win me a sympathy I had not quite realized that I craved. But Susan's eyes were merciless, and I couldn't manage it. Instead, I surprised myself by blurting out: "That's about it, Susan. I didn't like her – enough. We couldn't hit it off, somehow. I'm afraid I wasn't very kind."

      Instantly Susan's thin arms went about my neck, and her cheek was pressed tight to mine.

      "Poor Ambo!" she whispered. "I'm so sorry you weren't kind. It must hurt you so." Then she jumped from my knees.

      "Ambo!" she demanded. "Is my room —her room? Is it?"

      "Certainly not. It isn't hers any more. She's never coming back, I tell you. She put me out of her life once for all; and God knows I've put her out of mine!"

      "If you can't let me have another room, Ambo – I'll have to go."

      "Why? Hang it all, Susan, don't be silly! Don't make difficulties where none exist! What an odd, overstrained child you are!" I was a little annoyed.

      "Yes," nodded Susan gravely, "I see now why Gertrude left СКАЧАТЬ