It seemed impossible to reconcile the warring
elements at home. Old Anthony and his son were quarreling over the
strike, and Anthony was jibing constantly at Howard over the
playground. It was not so much her grandfather's irritability that
depressed her as his tyranny over the household, and his attitude
toward her mother roused her to bitter resentment.
The night before she had left the table after one of his scourging
speeches, only to have what amounted to a scene with her mother
afterward.
"But I cannot sit by while he insults you, mother."
"It is just his way. I don't mind, really. Oh, Lily, don't destroy
what I have built up so carefully. It hurts your father so."
"Sometimes," Lily said slowly, "he makes me think Aunt Elinor's
husband was right. He believes a lot of things--"
"What things?" Grace had asked, suspiciously.
Lily hesitated.
"Well, a sort of Socialism, for one thing, only it isn't exactly
that. It's individualism, really, or I think so; the sort of thing
that this house stifles." Grace was too horrified for speech.
"I don't want to hurt you, mother, but don't you see? He tyrannizes
over all of us, and it's bad for our souls.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184