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Page 7
RICHARD
It's difficult to decide.... You see, my studio--
UNCLE RICHARD
Well! I confess I can't understand all this uncertainty!
RICHARD
For three years I have worked as hard as anybody could to make a position
allowing me to paint. I have succeeded. I no longer need help!
UNCLE RICHARD
Of course not! I don't question your ability to get along. At the same
time, your attitude now is rather quixotic. Besides, as far as your
painting is concerned, you can always go about where you require. It isn't
slavery I am planning for you here, Richard!
RICHARD
Well ... but then, as I must live by my sales and commissions, I'd cut a
poor figure in surroundings like these.
UNCLE RICHARD
Ha! Very quaint that, Richard, very quaint! I suppose artists _are_ like
that.... Richard, I see you do not yet understand. I shall be most happy
to provide for you in every way. Yes. I have considered the whole matter
carefully, and for some time have only waited an opportunity to explain to
you in person. Consider, then, that you shall have an income of your own.
You see, Richard?
RICHARD
No, I don't.
UNCLE RICHARD
Why, it's simple enough!
RICHARD
Yes, the facts are, but I don't understand--an income, a home. Why, I
never dreamed of such a thing!
UNCLE RICHARD
And why not, my boy, why not? We haven't seen enough of each other,
Richard. Perhaps I have been at fault there, not to show more clearly the
interest I have always taken in you. Yes, indeed, a warm interest,
Richard!
RICHARD
Why not, Uncle Richard? Three years ago you might have asked me that
question. Now I ask you _why_?
UNCLE RICHARD
Why? How strange! How could that question arise between a man and his own
nephew?
RICHARD
Three years ago, before Aunt Ethel died, I spent Thanksgiving with you. It
was during the recess, my second year at Harvard. I came here practically
from my mother's funeral. I had just learned the truth about our
affairs--not a thing of ours really ours, not a penny left. How mother had
kept the truth from me, I don't know. But suddenly everything changed. The
ground I had been standing on gave way--my hands grasped everywhere for
support. I had never lacked, never thought about money either way. I took
it for granted that families like ours were provided with a decent living
by some law of Providence.... I came here. I thought of course you would
help me. I didn't think so consciously--I turned to you and Aunt Ethel
from blind instinct.
We spent Thanksgiving together. It was very quiet, very sad. You both
talked about mother and the old days. At breakfast the next morning you
wished me good luck and went off to your office. Afterward Aunt Ethel and
I talked in the living room while I waited for the train. She seemed ill
at ease. She alluded to your affairs once or twice, saying that you were
quite embarrassed by the state of politics, and how sad it was that people
couldn't do all they wanted to in this world for others.
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