a far country-第29章
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known as greatness of character and depth of human affections？ Cousin
Robert looked worn and old。 The other pall…bearers； men of weight； of
long standing in the community； were aged； too； Mr。 Blackwood； and Mr。
Jules Hollister； and out of place； somehow； in this new church building。
It came to me abruptly that the old order was gone；had slipped away
during my absence。 The church I had known in boyhood had been torn down
to make room for a business building on Boyne Street； the edifice in
which I sat was expensive； gave forth no distinctive note； seemingly
transitory with its hybrid interior； its shiny oak and blue and red
organ…pipes； betokening a compromised and weakened faith。 Nondescript；
likewise； seemed the new minister； Mr。 Randlett； as he prayed unctuously
in front of the flowers massed on the platform。 I vaguely resented his
laudatory references to my father。
The old church； with its severity； had actually stood for something。 It
was the Westminster Catechism in wood and stone； and Dr。 Pound had been
the human incarnation of that catechism； the fit representative of a
wrathful God； a militant shepherd who had guarded with vigilance his
respectable flock； who had protested vehemently against the sins of the
world by which they were surrounded； against the 〃dogs； and sorcerers；
and whoremongers； and murderers and idolaters； and whosoever loveth and
maketh a lie。〃 How Dr。 Pound would have put the emphasis of the
Everlasting into those words！
Against what was Mr。 Randlett protesting？
My glance wandered to the pews which held the committees from various
organizations； such as the Chamber of Commerce and the Bar Association；
which had come to do honour to my father。 And there； differentiated from
the others； I saw the spruce； alert figure of Theodore Watling。 He； too；
represented a new type and a new note；this time a forceful note； a
secular note that had not belonged to the old church； and seemed likewise
anomalistic in the new。。。。
During the long； slow journey in the carriage to the cemetery my mother
did not raise her veil。 It was not until she reached out and seized my
hand； convulsively； that I realized she was still a part of my existence。
In the days that followed I became aware that my father's death had
removed a restrictive element； that I was free now to take without
criticism or opposition whatever course in life I might desire。 It may
be that I had apprehended even then that his professional ideals would
not have coincided with my own。 Mingled with this sense of emancipation
was a curious feeling of regret； of mourning for something I had never
valued； something fixed and dependable for which he had stood； a rock and
a refuge of which I had never availed myself！。。。 When his will was
opened it was found that the property had been left to my mother during
her lifetime。 It was larger than I had thought； four hundred thousand
dollars； shrewdly invested； for the most part； in city real estate。 My
father had been very secretive as to money matters； and my mother had no
interest in them。
Three or four days later I received in the mail a typewritten letter
signed by Theodore Watling； expressing sympathy for my bereavement； and
asking me to drop in on him； down town； before I should leave the city。
In contrast to the somewhat dingy offices where my father had practised
in the Blackwood Block； the quarters of Watling； Fowndes and Ripon on the
eighth floor of the new Durrett Building were modern to a degree；
finished in oak and floored with marble； with a railed…off space where
young women with nimble fingers played ceaselessly on typewriters。 One
of them informed me that Mr。 Watling was busy； but on reading my card
added that she would take it in。 Meanwhile； in company with two others
who may have been clients； I waited。 This； then； was what it meant to be
a lawyer of importance； to have； like a Chesterfield； an ante…room where
clients cooled their heels and awaited one's pleasure。。。
The young woman returned； and led me through a corridor to a door on
which was painted Mr。 Wailing。
I recall him tilted back in his chair in a debonnair manner beside his
polished desk； the hint of a smile on his lips； and leaning close to him
was a yellow； owl…like person whose eyes； as they turned to me； gave the
impression of having stared for years into hard； artificial lights。 Mr。
Watling rose briskly。
〃How are you； Hugh？〃 he said； the warmth of his greeting tempered by just
the note of condolence suitable to my black clothes。 〃I'm glad you came。
I wanted to see you before you went back to Cambridge。 I must introduce
you to Judge Bering； of our State Supreme Court。 Judge； this is Mr。
Paret's boy。〃
The judge looked me over with a certain slow impressiveness； and gave me
a soft and fleshy hand。
〃Glad to know you； Mr。 Paret。 Your father was a great loss to our bar；〃
he declared。
I detected in his tone and manner a slight reservation that could not be
called precisely judicial dignity； it was as though； in these few words；
he had gone to the limit of self…commitment with a strangera striking
contrast to the confidential attitude towards Mr。 Watling in which I had
surprised him。
〃Judge；〃 said Mr。 Watling； sitting down again； 〃do you recall that time
we all went up to Mr。 Paret's house and tried to induce him to run for
mayor？ That was before you went on the lower bench。〃
The judge nodded gloomily； caressing his watch chain； and suddenly rose
to go。
〃That will be all right； then？〃 Mr。 Watling inquired cryptically； with a
smile。 The other made a barely perceptible inclination of the head and
departed。 Mr。 Watling looked at me。 〃He's one of the best men we have
on the bench to…day；〃 he added。 There was a trace of apology in his
tone。
He talked a while of my father； to whom； so he said； he had looked up
ever since he had been admitted to the bar。
〃It would be a pleasure to me； Hugh； as well as a matter of pride；〃 he
said cordially； but with dignity； 〃to have Matthew Paret's son in my
office。 I suppose you will be wishing to take your mother somewhere this
summer； but if you care to come here in the autumn； you will be welcome。
You will begin； of course； as other young men begin；as I began。 But I
am a believer in blood； and I'll be glad to have you。 Mr。 Fowndes and
Mr。 Ripon feel the same way。〃 He escorted me to the door himself。
Everywhere I went during that brief visit home I was struck by change； by
the crumbling and decay of institutions that once had held me in thrall；
by the superimposition of a new order that as yet had assumed no definite
character。 Some of the old landmarks had disappeared； there were new and
aggressive office buildings； new and aggressive residences； new and
aggressive citizens who lived in them； and of whom my mother spoke with
gentle deprecation。 Even Claremore； that paradise of my childhood； had
grown shrivelled and shabby； even tawdry； I thought； when we went out
there one Sunday afternoon； all that once represented the magic word
〃country〃 had vanished。 The old flat piano； made in Philadelphia ages
ago； the horsehair chairs and sofa had been replaced by a nondescript
furniture of the sort displayed behind plate…glass windows of the city's
stores： rocking…chairs on stands； upholstered in clashing colours； their
coiled springs only half hidden by tassels； and 〃ornamental〃 electric
fixtures； instead of the polished coal…oil lamps。 Cousin Jenny had grown
white； Willie was a staid bachelor； Helen an old maid； while Mary had
married a tall； anaemic young man with glasses； Walter Kinley； whom
Cousin Robert had taken into the store。 As I contemplated the Brecks odd
questions suggested themselves： did honesty and warm…heartedness
necessarily accompany a lack of artistic taste？ and was virtue its own
reward； after all？ They drew my mother into the house； took off her
wraps； set her down in the most comfortable rocker； and insisted on
making her a cup of tea。
I was touched。 I loved them still； and yet I was conscious of
reservations concerning them。 They； too； seemed a little on the
defensive with me； and once in a while Mary was causti
