The Story of Glass | Page 2

see that.
"The Curtises have not a whit more title to the child than I have," he
burst out. "You are a lawyer, Carleton, and you know that. I am just as
much Jean's uncle as Tom Curtis is; in fact I think I am more her uncle
because I am her father's own brother. I'm a Cabot, and so is Jean. I
should think that ought to be enough. Who would she live with, if not
with the Cabots?"
Mr. Carleton cleared his throat.
"You certainly have a strong claim to the little girl," he agreed. "But
you see my other client puts up an equally convincing story. In fact, he
uses almost your identical words. He says he is Jean's mother's own
brother, and argues no one can have a closer right than that."
"But what does he know about bringing up a little girl? Isn't he an old
bachelor?"
"You are not married yourself, Mr. Cabot."
"Well, no. So I'm not. However, that's neither here nor there. Tom
Curtis is fifty if he's a day. He is too old to bring up a child, Carleton."

"He complains that you are only thirty, and too young."
Mr. Robert Cabot, who was walking excitedly about the room, turned
quickly.
"But I have Hannah. You do not know Hannah or you would feel
differently. It is hard to tell you what Hannah is. You just have to know
her. She is the mainspring of my household. Not only does she cook,
clean, mend, and market for me; she does a score of things besides.
Why, I couldn't live without her. She is one of those motherly souls
whose wisdom is of the sages. She has been in our family since I was a
baby. Most of my bringing up, in fact, was due to her and," he added
whimsically, "behold the work of her hands!"
Mr. Carleton smiled.
"I cannot deny the product is good, Mr. Cabot. But again, all these
arguments you put forth Mr. Tom Curtis also reëchoes in behalf of his
German Fräulein. She too has been for years in the Curtis family and
brought up their children, and Mr. Curtis feels that since she trained
Jean's mother she is eminently the person to train Jean."
"Humph!"
"The claims seem about equal."
"No, they're not. That's where you are wrong. Allowing everything else
to be equal even you must grant that there is one serious objection of
which you have not spoken. Mr. Tom Curtis lives in Pittsburgh! That is
enough to overthrow the whole thing. Pittsburgh! Think of bringing up
a child in Pittsburgh when she could be brought up in Boston. Boston,
my good man, is intellectually--well, of course I do not wish to appear
prejudiced, but you will, I am sure, admit that Boston----"
Mr. Bob Cabot dropped helplessly into his chair, leaving the sentence
unfinished. There seemed to be no words in the English language
adequate to express what, in Mr. Bob Cabot's estimation, Boston
actually was.

Mr. Carleton started to laugh, but after glancing furtively at Mr. Bob
Cabot he changed his mind and coughed instead.
"We all grant Boston is without an intellectual peer," he answered with
a grave inclination of his head. "Even I, who was born in Indiana, grant
that, although out in my state we think we run you a close second.
Boston moreover has a background of which we in the West cannot
boast--history, you know, and all that sort of thing. It would be a great
privilege for little Miss Jean Cabot to receive a home and an education
in Boston. There are, however, many fine things in Pittsburgh; it is not
all soot, or panting factories."
"I suppose not. Jean's mother was a Pittsburgh girl, and certainly she
was a wonderful type of woman. Yet you cannot tell what result a
Boston environment might have had on such a nature as hers. She
might have been even nearer perfection. Yet after all she was quite fine
enough for human clay, Carleton, quite fine enough. And the little girl
promises to be like her--an uncommonly sweet, gentle child, and pretty,
too--very pretty. To send her to Pittsburgh--hang it all! Why must Tom
Curtis live in Pittsburgh?"
"Mr. Curtis, as you seem to have forgotten, Mr. Cabot, is the owner of
one of the largest plate glass factories in the country. He has built up a
fortune by his business and he is no more ready to hurl his life's work
to the winds and come to Boston to live than you are to toss aside your
own business and move to Pittsburgh. And by the way, speaking of
business, Mr. Cabot, if it does not seem an impertinent question, what
is your business?"
"My business? Well, for a