"Habberton, John - Everybody's Chance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Habberton John)

while Luce Grew loved another man and would marry him.
He heard footsteps behind him, and in a moment old Pruffett joined him with:
"Not a bad lecture, Champ?"
"Not for those who found their chances while the lecture was going on," was the
reply, in words that sounded as if each had been savagely bitten off. There was
a moment of silence before the old man said:
"I guess I know what you mean. I'm very sorry, tooЧ for you. Yet Luce herself
seemed to be happy; I suppose that's what you've longed to see her? You'd have
done anything to make her happy eh?"
"Yes; anything in my power."
"Good. Now's your chance."
"What on earth do you mean, Mr. Pruffett?"
"Merely what I say. If you loved her, not yourself, or loved her more than you
loved yourself, you can do a great deal to make her happy; far more than Charley
Wurring can."
"I wish I knew what you were trying to say, Mr. Pruffett."
"Do you? Then I'll try to make myself understood. Charley is a well- meaning
fellow, but nowhere near enough of a man to marry a girl like that. Splendid
girls sometimes accept a husband of that kind after waiting a long time in vain
for a better one; the range of choice in this town is rather small, you know.
Charley's much the best of his family; indeed, he hasn't any bad habits of his
own, and he has learned to hate all that he might have inherited, but you know
his fix; a father who has drunk himself into incapacity for anything, and a
mother who is utterly discouraged and bad-tempered. Luce will have many
occasions for feeling sorry for her choice; and Charley will often have to feel
desperate, for what chance can he see, at present, of marrying and supporting a
wife?"
"Well!" exclaimed Champ, savagely.
"Well, you know what the lecturer said about chances? Yours is right at handЧ
right now. Why don't you put Charley into that wooded marshland of yours, to
clear it? Give him the wood in payment; you'd not lose a cent by that. Get his
father to help him, the weakest man has enough romance in him to want to help
his son to a good wife. Work is the best cure for drunkenness, and the fellow
daren't and can't drink while his son is with him all the while. By doing this
you would be improving a chance to greatly benefit three people; such a chance
seldom comes to any one."
"And I would also help another man to marry the woman whomЧ"
"Whom you love? Well, for what do you love her? For her sake or for your own?"
Champ remained silent; the old man went on:
"You don't seem to know. It's well, then, that you didn't chance to marry her."
"Mr. Pruffett," exclaimed ChampЧ he almost roared itЧ "do you know what you are
saying? Are you human? Are you a man, like other men?"
"I am, my boy," replied the old man calmly. "I don't mind telling you, in strict
confidence, that I loved Luce's motherЧ God bless her!Ч forty years ago. I never
loved any other womanЧ I tried to, but I couldn't. I had an awful fight with
myself, after Grew won her, and I got the worst of it, for I was obliged, as an
honest man, to admit to myself that I loved myself more than I loved her. To
reform myself, I determined to go on loving her, but for her sake only, and the
way I did it was to do just as I am advising you. I hadn't any marshland to
clear, and there was nothing in Grew's family history for the young man to be