"P. N. Elrod - Jonathan Barrett 01 - Red Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

Father smiled with affection and satisfaction. "No, that was my idea. It is a
sad and stupid thing, but the truth is your mother didn't think it worth try
ing. She's always had the mistaken idea that an educated woman is socially di
sadvantaged."
"And yet she herself—?" Elizabeth was swiftly sputtering her lay toward out
rage.
Father waved a cautioning hand. "I must clarify. She thinks a woman has ga
ined sufficient knowledge if she reads and writes trough to maintain her h
ousehold and be agreeable in polite company."
Elizabeth snorted.
"I never saw it that way, though, so I made sure that Rapelji was well comp
ensated for the time he spent on you. Your mother was under the impression
that you were learning no more than the limits she'd set: your numbers, let
ters, and some French."
"And my music from Mrs. Hornby?"
"Yes."
"Because every girl in polite society must know how to sing and play?" It w
as not a question so much as a statement of contempt.
"Yes."
"On the other hand, being able to reason and think would place me at a seve
re disadvantage?"
"In her view, yes."
Elizabeth rose and threw her arms around him. "Then, thank you. Father!"
He laughed at the embrace. "There now. I may not have done you any favors,
girl."
"I don't care." She loosened her grip. "But what about Jonathan going away
to England?"
His laugh settled into a sigh. "It is her money that runs this place, puts cl
othes on your backs, and food in your mouths, and because of that she feels e
ntitled to choose where you are to be educated. She appears.to have entirely
made up her mind, but I will talk with her. There are other reasons for you t
o go to Harvard than the fact that it is closer than England."
"And if she doesn't listen?" I asked glumly.
"That possibility exists. You may have to face it."
"But after tonight. . . Mother isn't. . . well."
"You need not mince your words, Jonathan. We all know she wasn't in her rig
ht mind then. Her father was the same. He'd work himself into a ferocious t
emper until you'd think his brain would burst, then the fit would pass and
like as not he'd have forgotten what angered him, even deny he'd been angry
. Whatever poisons lurked in his blood are in your mother as well."
"And us?" Elizabeth's eyebrows were climbing.
Father shrugged. "It's in God's hands, girl, but I've tried to raise you two w
ith the love old Fonteyn was incapable of giving. I think it has made all the
difference."
"We're nothing like her," she said thankfully.
He touched her chin lightly with one finger and glanced at me. "Perhaps a li
ttle, on the outside. I wish you could have known her in those days." He ind
icated the portrait. "Everything was so different then, but over the years t
he poisons began to leech out. She changed, bit by bit. She began to expect
things of me that I would not provide. She wanted me to advance on to the be