The Conflict [107]
and talk to your daughter.''
Charlton found Jane at the window in the dressing room next her father's bedroom. He said loudly enough for the old man to overhear:
``Your father's all right for the present, so you needn't worry. Come downstairs with me. He's to go to sleep now.''
Jane went in and kissed the bulging bony forehead. ``Good night, popsy.''
``Good night, Jinny dear,'' he said in a softer voice than she had ever heard from him. ``I'm feeling very comfortable now, and sleepy. If anything should happen, don't forget what I said about not temptin' your brother by trustin' him too fur. Look after your own affairs. Take Mr. Haswell's advice. He's stupid, but he's honest and careful and safe. You might talk to Dr. Charlton about things, too. He's straight, and knows what's what. He's one of them people that gives everybody good advice but themselves. If anything should happen----''
``But nothing's going to happen, popsy.''
``It might. I don't seem to care as much as I did. I'm so tarnation tired. I reckon the goin' ain't as bad as I always calculated. I didn't know how tired they felt and anxious to rest.''
``I'll turn down the light. The nurse is right in there.''
``Yes--turn the light. If anything should happen, there's an envelope in the top drawer in my desk for Dr. Charlton. But don't tell him till I'm gone. I don't trust nobody, and if he knowed there was something waiting, why, there's no telling----''
The old man had drowsed off. Jane lowered the light and went down to join Charlton on the front veranda, where he was smoking a cigarette. She said:
``He's asleep.''
``He's all right for the next few days,'' said Charlton. ``After that--I don't know. I'm very doubtful.''
Jane was depressed, but not so depressed as she would have been had not her father so long looked like death and so often been near dying.
``Stay at home until I see how this is going to turn out. Telephone your sister to be within easy call. But don't let her come here. She's not fit to be about an ill person. The sight of her pulling a long, sad face might carry him off in a fit of rage.''
Jane observed him with curiosity in the light streaming from the front hall. ``You're a very practical person aren't you?'' she said.
``No romance, no idealism, you mean?''
``Yes.''
He laughed in his plain, healthy way. ``Not a frill,'' said he. ``I'm interested only in facts. They keep me busy enough.''
``You're not married, are you?''
``Not yet. But I shall be as soon as I find a woman I want.''
``IF you can get her.''
``I'll get her, all right,'' replied he. ``No trouble about that. The woman I want'll want me.''
``I'm eager to see her,'' said Jane. ``She'll be a queer one.''
``Not necessarily,'' said he. ``But I'll make her a queer one before I get through with her--queer, in my sense, meaning sensible and useful.''
``You remind me so often of Victor Dorn, yet you're not at all like him.''
``We're in the same business--trying to make the human race fit to associate with. He looks after the minds; I look after the bodies. Mine's the humbler branch of the business, perhaps--but it's equally necessary, and it comes first. The chief thing that's wrong with human nature is bad health. I'm getting the world ready for Victor.''
``You like him?''
``I worship him,'' said Charlton in his most matter-of- fact way.
``Yet he's just the opposite of you. He's an idealist.''
``Who told you that?'' laughed Charlton. ``He's the most practical, sensible man in this town. You people think he's a crank because he isn't crazy about money or about stepping round on the necks of his fellow beings. The truth is, he's got a sense of proportion-- and a sense of humor--and an idea of a rational happy life. You're still barbarians, while he's a civilized man. Ever seen an ignorant yap jeer when a neat, clean, well- dressed person passed by? Well, you people jeering at Victor Dorn are like that yap.''
``I agree with you,'' said Jane hastily and earnestly.
Charlton found Jane at the window in the dressing room next her father's bedroom. He said loudly enough for the old man to overhear:
``Your father's all right for the present, so you needn't worry. Come downstairs with me. He's to go to sleep now.''
Jane went in and kissed the bulging bony forehead. ``Good night, popsy.''
``Good night, Jinny dear,'' he said in a softer voice than she had ever heard from him. ``I'm feeling very comfortable now, and sleepy. If anything should happen, don't forget what I said about not temptin' your brother by trustin' him too fur. Look after your own affairs. Take Mr. Haswell's advice. He's stupid, but he's honest and careful and safe. You might talk to Dr. Charlton about things, too. He's straight, and knows what's what. He's one of them people that gives everybody good advice but themselves. If anything should happen----''
``But nothing's going to happen, popsy.''
``It might. I don't seem to care as much as I did. I'm so tarnation tired. I reckon the goin' ain't as bad as I always calculated. I didn't know how tired they felt and anxious to rest.''
``I'll turn down the light. The nurse is right in there.''
``Yes--turn the light. If anything should happen, there's an envelope in the top drawer in my desk for Dr. Charlton. But don't tell him till I'm gone. I don't trust nobody, and if he knowed there was something waiting, why, there's no telling----''
The old man had drowsed off. Jane lowered the light and went down to join Charlton on the front veranda, where he was smoking a cigarette. She said:
``He's asleep.''
``He's all right for the next few days,'' said Charlton. ``After that--I don't know. I'm very doubtful.''
Jane was depressed, but not so depressed as she would have been had not her father so long looked like death and so often been near dying.
``Stay at home until I see how this is going to turn out. Telephone your sister to be within easy call. But don't let her come here. She's not fit to be about an ill person. The sight of her pulling a long, sad face might carry him off in a fit of rage.''
Jane observed him with curiosity in the light streaming from the front hall. ``You're a very practical person aren't you?'' she said.
``No romance, no idealism, you mean?''
``Yes.''
He laughed in his plain, healthy way. ``Not a frill,'' said he. ``I'm interested only in facts. They keep me busy enough.''
``You're not married, are you?''
``Not yet. But I shall be as soon as I find a woman I want.''
``IF you can get her.''
``I'll get her, all right,'' replied he. ``No trouble about that. The woman I want'll want me.''
``I'm eager to see her,'' said Jane. ``She'll be a queer one.''
``Not necessarily,'' said he. ``But I'll make her a queer one before I get through with her--queer, in my sense, meaning sensible and useful.''
``You remind me so often of Victor Dorn, yet you're not at all like him.''
``We're in the same business--trying to make the human race fit to associate with. He looks after the minds; I look after the bodies. Mine's the humbler branch of the business, perhaps--but it's equally necessary, and it comes first. The chief thing that's wrong with human nature is bad health. I'm getting the world ready for Victor.''
``You like him?''
``I worship him,'' said Charlton in his most matter-of- fact way.
``Yet he's just the opposite of you. He's an idealist.''
``Who told you that?'' laughed Charlton. ``He's the most practical, sensible man in this town. You people think he's a crank because he isn't crazy about money or about stepping round on the necks of his fellow beings. The truth is, he's got a sense of proportion-- and a sense of humor--and an idea of a rational happy life. You're still barbarians, while he's a civilized man. Ever seen an ignorant yap jeer when a neat, clean, well- dressed person passed by? Well, you people jeering at Victor Dorn are like that yap.''
``I agree with you,'' said Jane hastily and earnestly.