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 embarra.s.sed by the state of politics, and how sad it was that people couldn't do all they wanted to in this world for others.

Uncle Richard, when Joseph came with the carriage, Aunt Ethel kissed me, cried, and gave me--a twenty dollar bill. Good G.o.d! and I thanked her for it. Twenty dollars--carfare and a week's board! I left the house completely dazed: it seemed like a bad dream....

UNCLE RICHARD

There, there, Richard! We never imagined for a moment. I thought your college course all provided for--and your Aunt Ethel never understood business. She doubtless exaggerated my difficulty. If either of us had dreamed you were so worried! As if I should have grudged you money!

RICHARD

That's what I thought at first, and I hated you for it, but afterward I realized it was not that--it was worse.

UNCLE RICHARD

_Worse!_

RICHARD

Yes. It wasn't that you grudged the money, it was that you simply didn't _think_ of it. You felt that something had to be done, because I made you feel uncomfortable, but you didn't know exactly what, and you were both relieved to see me go. I had spoiled your Thanksgiving dinner--that was the depth of your realization.

UNCLE RICHARD

No, no, Richard! You were so cold, so silent. You made it impossible for us to help you.

RICHARD

I suppose I did seem cold. That's the instinct of inexperienced natures when they are desperate. But it would have been so easy to break through with one kind word or act.

UNCLE RICHARD

There, there! How glad I am that conditions are changed!

RICHARD

Changed, yes, but it was I who changed them! The shock of poverty was terrible at first, not because I set too much value on money, nor because I was unwilling to work, but because I felt I had no power of attack. My nature was introspective, I lived in an epic of my own creation. My strength and my courage were wrapped up in dreams, and seemed to have no relation to the practical world. I could have faced the devil himself for an ideal, but to make my own living--that was the nightmare!...

That was why I was so cold, so silent. If you had said one human thing, straight from your heart to mine, I should have been comforted. In a case like that, as I now know, it is not money a man wants, even if he himself thinks it is. No. It is just sympathy, the right word that renews his courage and arms him against the new circ.u.mstances by making him feel he doesn't stand alone. If you had found that word, or even tried to find it, I should have loved you like a son. My heart was ready--you did not want it!

UNCLE RICHARD

But you finished at college, Richard....

RICHARD

Yes, I finished. And do you know how? I spent that first night all alone in my room, thinking. In the morning I called on a cla.s.smate, a poor man who was working his way. I said: "Here, I haven't a cent. Advise me."

We talked it all over. He helped me sell my furniture, he sublet my room.

And he gave me a job.

UNCLE RICHARD

A--

RICHARD

A job. Collecting and delivering laundry. That's how I finished at college. I'm ashamed to admit it now, but at first that work hurt me like a knife. I couldn't see any relation between that and my ambition for art.

But it wore off. I grew tougher, I learned the real meaning of things. And now I am glad it happened.

UNCLE RICHARD

Admirable, admirable! Really, Richard, I am more than ever convinced that I have decided rightly. Richard, you _must_ make this your home!

RICHARD

Are you still talking about my _duty_?

UNCLE RICHARD

Richard, a man begins by working for himself alone, then he works for the woman he marries, but even that is not enough. One by one I have seen every motive that ever impelled or guided me grow insufficient and have to be replaced. Ambition and love, once satisfied, point forward. We must always have a future before us, Richard, unless we are willing to become machines of habit. At one point or another most men do become machines.

Thank heaven, I never could. In these last few months I have begun to realize.... It was your Aunt Ethel's tragedy that she had no children. I wonder now whether it is not even more my own.

_Richard, I have made you my heir._

RICHARD

Your heir!

UNCLE RICHARD

My heir. And that is why, Richard--of course you could not realize it at the time--that is why I allowed myself to use the word "duty" as having reference to the future if not to the past.

For the future, Richard, is ours to enjoy, without misunderstanding, without disharmony, I at the end of my labours, you at the beginning of yours. You have revealed qualities I confess I had not suspected, qualities fitting you for responsibility and administration. With the position you will henceforth occupy, Richard, you should enter public life. Nothing more honorable for a responsible citizen.... Nothing more essential to the welfare of our beloved republic at its present critical state. We need the English tradition over here, Richard--solid, responsible men to administer public affairs. I have often felt the need of an efficient aristocracy in our social and industrial life. And nothing would please me more than to see you rise to authority by the leverage of my wealth. Nothing would please me more--why, Richard, I should consider it the prolongation of my own life!

RICHARD

No. No you don't, Uncle Richard. Never!

UNCLE RICHARD

What on earth do you mean?

RICHARD