"What am I to do?The old man says he's got to go.""And I don't consent to his going,"said March.
"And you won't stay if he goes."
Fulkerson rose."Well,well!I've got to see about it.I'm afraid the old man won't stand it,March;I am,indeed.I wish you'd reconsider.
I--I'd take it as a personal favor if you would.It leaves me in a fix.
You see I've got to side with one or the other."March made no reply to this,except to say,"Yes,you must stand by him,or you must stand by me.""Well,well!Hold on awhile!I'll see you in the morning.Don't take any steps--""Oh,there are no steps to take,"said March,with a melancholy smile.
"The steps are stopped;that's all."He sank back into his chair when Fulkerson was gone and drew a long breath."This is pretty rough.Ithought we had got through it."
"No,"said his wife."It seems as if I had to make the fight all over again.""Well,it's a good thing it's a holy war.""I can't bear the suspense.Why didn't you tell him outright you wouldn't go back on any terms?""I might as well,and got the glory.He'll never move Dryfoos.Isuppose we both would like to go back,if we could.""Oh,I suppose so."
They could not regain their lost exaltation,their lost dignity.At dinner Mrs.March asked the children how they would like to go back to Boston to live.
"Why,we're not going,are we?"asked Tom,without enthusiasm.
"I was just wondering how you felt about it,now,"she said,with an underlook at her husband.
"Well,if we go back,"said Bella,"I want to live on the Back Bay.It's awfully Micky at the South End.""I suppose I should go to Harvard,"said Tom,"and I'd room out at Cambridge.It would be easier to get at you on the Back Bay."The parents smiled ruefully at each other,and,in view of these grand expectations of his children,March resolved to go as far as he could in meeting Dryfoos's wishes.He proposed the theatre as a distraction from the anxieties that he knew were pressing equally on his wife."We might go to the 'Old Homestead,'"he suggested,with a sad irony,which only his wife felt.
"Oh yes,let's!"cried Bella.
While they were getting ready,some one rang,and Bella went to the door,and then came to tell her father that it was Mr.Lindau."He says he wants to see you just a moment.He's in the parlor,and he won't sit down,or anything.""What can he want?"groaned Mrs.March,from their common dismay.
March apprehended a storm in the old man's face.But he only stood in the middle of the room,looking very sad and grave."You are Going oudt,"he said."I won't geep you long.I haf gome to pring pack dose macassines and dis mawney.I can't do any more voark for you;and Ican't geep the mawney you haf baid me a'ready.It iss not hawnest mawney --that hass been oarned py voark;it iss mawney that hass peen mate py sbeculation,and the obbression off lapor,and the necessity of the boor,py a man--Here it is,efery tollar,efery zent.Dake it;I feel as if dere vas ploodt on it.""Why,Lindau,"March began,but the old man interrupted him.
"Ton't dalk to me,Passil!I could not haf believedt it of you.When you know how I feel about dose tings,why tidn't you dell me whose mawney you bay oudt to me?Ach,I ton't plame you--I ton't rebroach you.You haf nefer thought of it;boat I have thought,and I should be Guilty,I must share that man's Guilt,if I gept hiss mawney.If you hat toldt me at the peginning--if you hat peen frank with meboat it iss all righdt;you can go on;you ton't see dese tings as I see them;and you haf cot a family,and I am a free man.I voark to myself,and when I ton't voark,I sdarfe to myself.But.I geep my handts glean,voark or sdarfe.Gif him hiss mawney pack!I am sawry for him;I would not hoart hiss feelings,boat I could not pear to douch him,and hiss mawney iss like boison!"March tried to reason with Lindau,to show him the folly,the injustice,the absurdity of his course;it ended in their both getting angry,and in Lindau's going away in a whirl of German that included Basil in the guilt of the man whom Lindau called his master.
"Well,"said Mrs.March."He is a crank,and I think you're well rid of him.Now you have no quarrel with that horrid old Dryfoos,and you can keep right on.""Yes,"said March,"I wish it didn't make me feel so sneaking.What a long day it's been!It seems like a century since I got up.""Yes,a thousand years.Is there anything else left to happen?""I hope not.I'd like to go to bed."
"Why,aren't you going to the theatre?"wailed Bella,coming in upon her father's desperate expression.
"The theatre?Oh yes,certainly!I meant after we got home,"and March amused himself at the puzzled countenance of the child."Come on!
Is Tom ready?"
IX.
Fulkerson parted with the Marches in such trouble of mind that he did not feel able to meet that night the people whom he usually kept so gay at Mrs.Leighton's table.He went to Maroni's for his dinner,for this reason and for others more obscure.He could not expect to do anything more with Dryfoos at once;he knew that Dryfoos must feel that he had already made an extreme concession to March,and he believed that if he was to get anything more from him it must be after Dryfoos had dined.
But he was not without the hope,vague and indefinite as it might be,that he should find Lindau at Maroni's,and perhaps should get some concession from him,some word of regret or apology which he could report to Dryfoos,and at lest make the means of reopening the affair with him;perhaps Lindau,when he knew how matters stood,would back down altogether,and for March's sake would withdraw from all connection with 'Every Other Week'himself,and so leave everything serene.Fulkerson felt capable,in his desperation,of delicately suggesting such a course to Lindau,or even of plainly advising it:he did not care for Lindau a great deal,and he did care a great deal for the magazine.
