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The Heart of Arethusa. Frances Barton Fox
Читать онлайн.Название The Heart of Arethusa
Год выпуска 0
isbn 4064066177300
Автор произведения Frances Barton Fox
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
"I never wonder at anything you do, Ross," replied his wife. Her tone was grave. "I gave that up a long time ago. But I would call your behaviour, in this instance, heartless; if I didn't know you well enough to know you wouldn't really be consciously harsh to a fly."
"Heartless!" he echoed.
"Yes, heartless!" she repeated firmly. "Your own child! And eighteen whole years! Oh, Ross!"
"But she's been well taken care of," he protested, though somewhat feebly.
"Very probably she has. But you're her father. I verily believe, Ross Worthington," she added suddenly, "that you haven't even told her you were going to be married!"
The pendulum of Ross's moods swung very rapidly, as rapidly as ever that of his daughter. The little softness aroused by the thought of Arethusa's mother had passed, and now his eyes were full of unmistakable fun.
"No," he replied, "I will have to confess that I haven't. I didn't think she would be very much interested. And 'Where ignorance is bliss,' you know."
"Ross!"
"Oh, come now, Elinor, do make some allowances! You ought to be feeling flattered, instead of getting all up in the air about it. It shows such a complete absorption in you, I think. But I did mean to write, if it will make you feel any less convinced that I'm a hardened wretch with no natural affections. I've really never seen her, in a sense, and writing to a person you've never seen is. … Don't look so stern, Woman, I do write her often. I'll have you to know my daughter and I are very good friends."
"How often?" pursued Elinor, remorselessly.
"Once or twice, or maybe three times a year. I never make a point of counting letters with anyone. It seems so terribly small!"
Elinor shook her head helplessly. "Oh, Ross, Ross," she sighed. "Thank heaven, there's only one of you!"
"Yes," he answered, very placidly. "Thank heaven! I was never in the least ambitious to be a twin!"
And now it was the wife's turn to stare out at the sea and think of Arethusa.
She was even more vexed with Ross for this dreadful neglect of his daughter than she had shown him. Elinor had a very high ideal of parenthood. Her own happy childhood, with a father and mother who had included her as the third in all their pleasures and even in every day commonplaces, as naturally as they had included themselves, had given her no hazy picture of what a very beautiful thing such a relation could be. She could not understand how Ross could take the idea of his fatherhood so very indifferently. Surely he must love his child!
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