the kentons-第7部分

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the　reach　of　their　branches；　he　heard　the　squirrels　barking；　a　red…bird
from　the　woody　depths　behind　the　house　mocked　the　cat…birds　in　the
quince…trees。　　The　June　rose　was　red　along　the　trellis　of　the　veranda；
where　Lottie　ought　to　be　sitting　to　receive　the　morning　calls　of　the
young　men　who　were　sometimes　quite　as　early　as　Kenton's　present　visit　in
their　devotions；　and　the　sound　of　Ellen's　piano；　played　fitfully　and
absently　in　her　fashion；　ought　to　be　coming　out　irrespective　of　the　hour。　
It　seemed　to　him　that　his　wife　must　open　the　door　as　his　steps　and　his
son's　made　themselves　heard　on　the　walk　between　the　box　borders　in　their
upper　orchard；　and　he　faltered　a　little。

〃Look　here；　father；〃　said　his　son；　detecting　his　hesitation。　　〃Why　don't
you　let　Mary　come　in　with　you；　and　help　you　find　those　things？〃

〃No；　no；〃　said　Kenton；　sinking　into　one　of　the　wooden　seats　that　flanked
the　door…way。　　〃I　promised　your　mother　that　I　would　get　them　myself。　　You
know　women　don't　like　to　have　other　women　going　through　their　houses。〃

〃Yes；　but　Mary！〃　　his　son　urged。

〃Ah！　　It's　just　Mary；　with　her　perfect　housekeeping；　that　your　mother
wouldn't　like　to　have　see　the　way　she　left　things；〃　said　Kenton；　and　he
smiled　at　the　notion　of　any　one　being　housekeeper　enough　to　find　a　flaw
in　his　wife's。　　〃My；　but　this　is　pleasant！〃　　he　added。　　He　took　off　his
hat　and　let　the　breeze　play　through　the　lank；　thin　hair　which　was　still
black　on　his　fine；　high　forehead。　　He　was　a　very　handsome　old　man；　with　a
delicate　aquiline　profile；　of　the　perfect　Roman　type　which　is　perhaps
oftener　found　in　America　than　ever　it　was　in　Rome。　　〃You've　kept　it　very
nice；　Dick；〃　he　said；　with　a　generalizing　wave　of　his　hat。

〃Well；　I　couldn't　tell　whether　you　would　be　coming　back　or　not；　and　I
thought　I　had　better　be　ready　for　you。〃

〃I　wish　we　were；〃　said　the　old　man；　〃and　we　shall　be；　in　the　fall；　or　the
latter　part　of　the　summer。　　But　it's　better　now　that　we　should　goon
Ellen's　account。〃

〃Oh；　you'll　enjoy　it；〃　his　son　evaded　him。

〃You　haven't　seen　anything　of　him　lately？〃　　Kenton　suggested。

〃He　wasn't　likely　to　let　me　see　anything　of　him；〃　returned　the　son。

〃No；〃　said　the　father。　　〃Well！〃　　He　rose　to　put　the　key　into　the　door；
and　his　son　stepped　down　from　the　little　porch　to　the　brick　walk。

〃Mary　will　have　dinner　early；　father；　and　when　you've　got　through　here；
you'd　better　come　over　and　lie　down　a　while　beforehand。〃

Kenton　had　been　dropped　at　eight　o'clock　from　a　sleeper　on　the　Great
Three；　and　had　refused　breakfast　at　his　son's　house；　upon　the　plea　that
the　porter　had　given　him　a　Southern　cantaloupe　and　a　cup　of　coffee　on　the
train；　and　he　was　no　longer　hungry。

〃All　right；〃　he　said。　　〃I　won't　be　longer　than　I　can　help。〃　　He　had　got
the　door　open　and　was　going　to　close　it　again。

His　son　laughed。　　〃Better　not　shut　it；　father。　　It　will　let　the　fresh　air
in。〃

〃Oh；　all　right；〃　said　the　old　man。

The　son　lingered　about；　giving　some　orders　to　the　hired　man　in　the
vegetable　garden；　for　an　excuse；　in　the　hope　that　his　father　might　change
his　mind　and　ask　him　to　come　into　the　house　with　him；　he　felt　it　so
forlorn　for　him　to　be　going　through　those　lifeless　rooms　alone。　　When　he
looked　round；　and　saw　his　father　holding　the　door　ajar；　as　if　impatiently
waiting　for　him　to　be　gone；　he　laughed　and　waved　his　hand　to　him。　　〃All
right；　father？　　I'm　going　now。〃　　But　though　he　treated　the　matter　so
lightly　with　his　father；　he　said　grimly　to　his　wife；　as　he　passed　her　on
their　own　porch；　on　his　way　to　his　once；　〃I　don't　like　to　think　of　father
being　driven　out　of　house　and　home　this　way。〃

〃Neither　do　I；　Dick。　　But　it　can't　be　helped；　can　it？〃

〃I　think　I　could　help　it；　if　I　got　my　hands　on　that　fellow　once。〃

〃No；　you　couldn't；　Dick。　　It's　not　he　that's　doing　it。　　It's　Ellen；　you
know　that　well　enough；　and　you've　just　got　to　stand　it。〃

〃Yes；　I　suppose　so；〃　said　Richard　Kenton。

〃Of　course；　my　heart　aches　for　your　poor　old　father；　but　so　it　would　if
Ellen　had　some　kind　of　awful　sickness。　　It　is　a　kind　of　sickness；　and　you
can't　fight　it　any　more　than　if　she　really　was　sick。〃

〃No；〃　said　the　husband；　dejectedly。　　〃You　just　slip　over　there；　after　a
while；　Mary；　if　father's　gone　too　long；　will　you？　　I　don't　like　to　have
him　there　alone。〃

〃'Deed　and　'deed　I　won't；　Dick。　　He　wouldn't　like　it　at　all；　my　spying
round。　　Nothing　can　happen　to　him；　and　I　believe　your　mother's　just　made
an　excuse　to　send　him　after　something；　so　that　he　can　be　in　there　alone；
and　realize　that　the　house　isn't　home　any　more。　　It　will　be　easier　for
him　to　go　to　Europe　when　he　finds　that　out。　　I　believe　in　my　heart　that
was　her　idea　in　not　wanting　me　to　find　the　things　for　him；　and　I'm　not
going　to　meddle　myself。〃

With　the　fatuity　of　a　man　in　such　things；　and　with　the　fatuity　of　age
regarding　all　the　things　of　the　past；　Kenton　had　thought　in　his
homesickness　of　his　house　as　he　used　to　be　in　it；　and　had　never　been　able
to　picture　it　without　the　family　life。　　As　he　now　walked　through　the
empty　rooms；　and　up　and　down　the　stairs；　his　pulse　beat　low　as　if　in　the
presence　of　death。　　Everything　was　as　they　had　left　it；　when　they　went
out　of　the　house；　and　it　appeared　to　Kenton　that　nothing　had　been　touched
there　since；　though　when　he　afterwards　reported　to　his　wife　that　there
was　not　a　speck　of　dust　anywhere　she　knew　that　Mary　had　been　going
through　the　house；　in　their　absence；　not　once　only；　but　often；　and　she
felt　a　pang　of　grateful　jealousy。　　He　got　together　the　things　that　Mrs。
Kenton　had　pretended　to　want；　and　after　glancing　in　at　the　different
rooms；　which　seemed　to　be　lying　stealthily　in　wait　for　him；　with　their
emptiness　and　silence；　he　went　down…stairs　with　the　bundle　he　had　made；
and　turned　into　his　library。　　He　had　some　thought　of　looking　at　the
collections　for　his　history；　but；　after　pulling　open　one　of　the　drawers
in　which　they　were　stored；　he　pushed　it　to　again；　and　sank　listlessly
into　his　leather…covered　swivel…chair；　which　stood　in　its　place　before
the　wide　writing…table；　and　seemed　to　have　had　him　in　it　before　he　sat
down。　　The　table　was　bare；　except　for　the　books　and　documents　which　he
had　sent　home　from　time　to　time　during　the　winter；　and　which　Richard　or
his　wife　had　neatly　arranged　there　without　breaking　their　wraps。　　He　let
fall　his　bundle　at　his　feet；　and　sat　staring　at　the　ranks　of　books
against　the　wall；　mechanically　relating　them　to　the　different　epochs　of
the　past　in　which　he　or　his　wife　or　his　children　had　been　interested　in
them；　and　aching　with　tender　pain。　　He　had　always　supposed　himself　a
happy　and　strong　and　successful　man；　but　what　a　dreary　ruin　his　life　had
fallen　into！　　Was　it　to　be　finally　so　helpless　and　powerless　（for　with
all　the　defences　about　him　that　a　man　can　have；　he　felt　himself　fatally
vulnerable）　that　he　had　fought　so　many　years？　　Why；　at　his　age；　should　he
be　going　into　exile；　away　from　everything　that　could　make　his　days　bright
and　sweet？　　Why　could　not　he　come　back　there；　where　he　was　now　more
solitary　than　he　could　be　anywhere　else　on　earth；　and　reanimate　the　dead
body　of　his　home　with　his　old　life？　　He　knew　why；　in　an　immediate　sort；
but　his　quest　was　for　the　cause　behind　the　cause。　　What　had　he　done；　or
left　undone？　　He　had　tried　to　be　a　just　man；　and　fulfil　all　his　duties
both　to　his　family　and　to　his　neighbors；　he　had　wished　to　be　kind；　and
not　to　harm　any　one；　he　reflected　how；　as　he　had　grown　older；　the　dread
of　doing　any　unkindness　had　grown　upon　him；　and　how　he　had　tried　not　to
be　proud；　but　to　walk　meekly　and　humbly。　　Why　should　he　be　punished　as　he
was；　stricken　in　a　place　so　sacred　that　the　effort　to　defend　himself　had
seemed　a　kind　of　sacrilege？　　He　could　not　make　it　out；　and　he　was　not
aware　of　the　tears　of　self…pity　that　stole　slowly　down　his　face；　though
from　time　to　time　he　wiped　them　away。

He　heard　steps　in　the　hall　without；　advancing　and　pausing；　which　must　be
those　of　his　son　coming　back　for　him；　and　with　these　advances　and　pauses
giving　him　notice　of　his　approach；　but　he　did　not　move；　and　at　first　he
did　not　look　up　when　the　steps　arrived　at　the　threshold　of　the　room　where
he　sat。　　When　he　lifted　his　eyes　at　last　he　saw　Bittridge　lounging　in　the
door…way；　with　one　shoulder　supported　against　the　door…jamb；　his　hands　in
his　pockets　and　his　hat　pushed　well　back　on　his　forehead。　　In　an　instant
all　Kenton's　humility　and　soft　repining　were　gone。　　〃Well；　what　is　it？〃
he　called。

〃Oh；〃　said　Bittridge；　coming　forward。　　He　laughed　and　explained；　〃Didn't
know　if　you　recognized　me。〃

〃I　recognized　you；〃　said　Kenton；　fiercely。　　〃What　is　it　you　want？〃

〃Well；　I　happened　to　be　passing；　and　I　saw　the　door　open；　and　I　thought
maybe　Dick　was　here。〃

It　was　on　Kenton's　tongue　to　say　that　it　was　a　good　thing　for　him　Dick
was　not　there。　　But　partly　the　sense　that　this　would　be　unbecoming
bluster；　and　partly　the　suffocating　resentment　of　the　fellow's　impudence；
limited　his　response　to　a　formless　gasp；　and　Bittridge　went　on：　〃But　I'm
glad　to　find　you　here；　judge。　　I　didn't　know　that　you　were　in　town。　
Family　all　well　in　New　York？〃　　He　was　not　quelled　by　the　silence　of　the
judge　on　this　point；　but；　as　if　he　had　not