“Why should you imagine I want to withdraw, when only a few minutes ago
I offered to help you, without your having asked anything of me?”
He looked at me rather doubtfully and said:
“Since you wish it I accept without more ado. Thank you. But we must
make a fresh contract, and each of us must receive the share he
deserves. So that from henceforth, if business comes our way and you
are willing to go on dealing with it, you must have a proper salary.
Yes, we must put the company on a totally different basis. Then there
can be no danger of any trouble accruing to us from our suppression of
last year’s losses. It will only have been a lesson to us.”
“It is no use your thinking any more about those losses; we have
finished with that. What you have to do now is to try and win over your
mother-in-law. That is all that matters.”
And so we parted. I have no doubt I smiled at the naïveté with which
Guido had betrayed to me his inmost feelings. He had made all that long
speech solely in order that he might accept my gift, without having
to show me too much gratitude. But I did not demand it of him. It was
quite enough for me to know that he really owed it.
For my part, as soon as I had parted from him I felt a sense of relief
as well, as if I too had just escaped into the open air. I felt I had
regained the freedom I had lost when I set about trying to educate
Guido and put him on the right path. The teacher is really much more
chained than the pupil. I had fully made up my mind to get the money
for him. It is difficult for me to say whether I was really doing it
out of affection for him or for Ada, or perhaps also because I felt
that a certain responsibility might attach to me for having worked
in his office. In any case I resolved to sacrifice part of my own
fortune, and even to-day I look back on that moment in my life with
great satisfaction. The money would save Guido and procure me a quiet
conscience.
I walked about till dark in this exalted frame of mind, and then found
it was too late to catch Olivi at the Bourse. I was obliged to apply to
him in order to get a large sum of money. Then I decided that it was
not really so urgent. I had a certain amount of money at my disposal
which would be enough to cover the fortnightly settlement. There was
plenty of time for me to take all the necessary steps before the end of
the month.
I put Guido out of my mind for the whole evening. Later on, after the
children had been put to bed, I several times made up my mind to tell
Augusta about Guido’s financial collapse and how it was going to affect
me, but I hated the thought of discussing it, and decided it would be
better to wait for Augusta to give her consent when everything had been
arranged, and the settlement of Guido’s affairs was in full swing.
Besides, I did not see why I should have all this tiresome business
just when Guido was out amusing himself.
I slept perfectly and went to the office next morning with rather a
light purse. I still had in my pocket the old envelope which Carla had
returned to me and which I was saving up religiously for her or for one
of her children, and I had drawn a little money from the bank. I spent
the morning reading the papers, while Carmen sat sewing and Luciano
employed himself in various feats of multiplication and addition.
When I went home to lunch I found Augusta quite bewildered and cast
down. She was very pale, as she always was on occasions when I had made
her suffer. She said to me gently:
“I hear that you have decided to sacrifice part of your fortune to save
Guido! I know I had no right to have been told.”
She was so doubtful about her right that she hesitated. Then she began
to reproach me for not having told her.
“But I am not like Ada. I have never opposed your will in any way.”
It was some time before I discovered what had happened. Augusta had
arrived at Ada’s house just when she was in the middle of discussing
Guido with her mother. When she saw her, Ada had burst out crying and
told her of my generous offer, which she absolutely refused to accept.
She had begged Augusta to ask me not to persist in it.
I saw at once that Augusta was suffering from her old malady, jealousy
of her sister; but I took no notice of it. Ada’s attitude surprised me.
“Do you think she was offended?” I asked, pretending to look very
surprised.
“No! no! Not offended!” cried the straightforward Augusta. “She hugged
and kissed me ... perhaps it was really meant for you!”
That seemed an odd enough way of expressing herself. She kept her eyes
fixed on me suspiciously, as if she were trying to read my thoughts.