The End of Innocence Read Online Free PDF

community decency standards.
    About the time Helen had become convinced that the evening was to be borne in silence, Robert Brown walked to her side. He’d been dismissed by the great-aunt, who was now talking with the couple du jour, Caroline Peabody and Frank Adams.
    As Mr. Brooks hailed a waiter with a tray of scotch whiskeys, Robert bowed to Helen. Except for their eyes, they could have been cousins. Outsiders had, at times, mistaken them for brother and sister, given their similar coloring, height, and demeanor.
    â€œYour mother made you come tonight?” she asked.
    â€œI asked if I could work on the new car instead, but she’d have none of it. She said I was to get married and that this dance might be my last chance.”
    â€œShe shouldn’t despair just yet, Robert.”
    â€œShe’s probably justified in my case. I brought a book to horrify her,” he said with a slight smile. “I intend to start reading after I ask if you are indeed leaving for Radcliffe tomorrow.”
    â€œIf only it could have been tonight.”
    He swallowed to keep from smiling again, and, as he did, his white bow tie bobbed at his throat.
    Helen hid her own smile. He looks so awkward dressed in his white tie and black tails , she thought. He belonged on a train off to Colorado, to ride horses in the valleys or to hike among shimmering aspens. He’d always talked of big skies and wide spaces when they were children; dances to him were forced labor. But he had always been dutiful, and this she respected.
    He leaned toward her and, while looking out to the crowd, whispered, “Caroline is always at her worst when she thinks she’s at her best,” he remarked slyly.
    â€œHer best? I’m not certain that state exists.”
    â€œCome now. Christian charity—”
    â€œBegins at home? With our mothers?” she asked with a wicked smile.
    He gave a cough. “They may have too much charity,” he said in a tone that suddenly turned as exasperated as she’d heard it in some time. “Mine has just taken in a young girl from Vermont to live with us while she studies. Meanwhile your mother has vowed to save the world, one pauper at a time. It’s a sickness of some sort. Some days I pray that God will save us from Boston women as they rule the world—”
    â€œThat would give them too much credit,” she interrupted coldly. He nodded sympathetically and they fell into silence again.
    â€œJonathan!” a man’s deep voice called from across the hall to Helen’s father. Helen and Robert looked up to see Colonel R. E. Harris walking over to them, seemingly embarrassed by the number of his well-wishers and hangers-on. A military doctor, Harris was built like a bulldog and topped with curly dark hair surrounding a rapidly balding pate. He’d always been kind to Helen since she was a young girl, and she was delighted to see a real military man, someone who could not have been around to witness the news of her mother’s fall from grace.
    â€œHarris! Good to see you!” exclaimed Mr. Brooks, clapping him on his shoulder as Robert Brown excused himself at the insistence of the great-aunt, who motioned to him from across the room, her teacup apparently empty.
    Dr. Harris bowed slightly to Brooks and Helen. “Jonathan, your latest book is just the thing. I finished the chapter on the Battle of Pharsalus while on the train from Washington. I loved it! Losing Pompey was quite the tragedy for Rome,” he said, shaking his head. “Helen, how much of that book did you write?”
    Helen blushed at the praise. “I was only the proofreader.”
    Her father shook his head. “She’s my right hand and I’m sorry to lose her to college.”
    â€œOr worse—to one of these ruffians at this dance tonight!” Dr. Harris gave a hearty laugh.
    Helen blushed deeply again.
    â€œLet’s discuss something else. Harris, is