Sylvia's Marriage: A Novel by Upton Sinclair

Author:Upton Sinclair
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Upton Sinclair, muckraking, satire, injustice, investigative journalism, American, political, social, justice, corruption, capitalism, socialism, society, historical, American classic
Publisher: Sovereign Classic
Published: 2016-05-27T00:00:00+00:00

By the time the first signs of dawn appeared, the infant had cried itself into a state of exhaustion. The faint light that got into the room revealed the three of us, listening to the pitiful whimpering. I was faint with weakness, but I had to make an effort and face the worst ordeal of all. There came a tapping at the door—the maid, to say that Sylvia was awake and had heard of my arrival and wished to see me. I might have put off our meeting for a while, on the plea of exhaustion, but I preferred to have it over with, and braced myself and went slowly to her room.

In the doorway I paused for an instant to gaze at her. She was exquisite, lying there with the flush of sleep still upon her, and the ecstasy of her great achievement in her face. I fled to her, and we caught each other in our arms. “Oh, Mary, Mary! I’m so glad you’ve come!” And then: “Oh, Mary, isn’t it the loveliest baby!”

“Perfectly glorious!” I exclaimed.

“Oh, I’m so happy—so happy as I never dreamed! I’ve no words to tell you about it.”

“You don’t need any words—I’ve been through it,” I said.

“Oh, but she’s so beautiful! Tell me, honestly, isn’t that really so?”

“My dear,” I said, “she is like you.”

“Mary,” she went on, half whispering, “I think it solves all my problems—all that I wrote you about. I don’t believe I shall ever be unhappy again. I can’t believe that such a thing has really happened—that I’ve been given such a treasure. And she’s my own! I can watch her little body grow and help to make it strong and beautiful! I can help mould her little mind—see it opening up, one chamber of wonder after another! I can teach her all the things I have had to grope so to get!”

“Yes,” I said, trying to speak with conviction. I added, hastily: “I’m glad you don’t find motherhood disappointing.”

“Oh, it’s a miracle!” she exclaimed. “A woman who could be dissatisfied with anything afterwards would be an ingrate!” She paused, then added: “Mary, now she’s here in flesh, I feel she’ll be a bond between Douglas and me. He must see her rights, her claim upon life, as he couldn’t see mine.”

I assented gravely. So that was the thing she was thinking most about—a bond between her husband and herself! A moment later the nurse appeared in the doorway, and Sylvia set up a cry: “My baby! Where’s my baby? I want to see my baby!”

“Sylvia, dear,” I said, “there’s something about the baby that has to be explained.”

Instantly she was alert. “What is the matter?”

I laughed. “Nothing, dear, that amounts to anything. But the little one’s eyes are inflamed—that is to say, the lids. It’s something that happens to newly-born infants.”

“Well, then?” she said.

“Nothing, only the doctor’s had to put some salve on them, and they don’t look very pretty.”

“I don’t mind that, if it’s all right.”

“But we’ve had to put a bandage over them, and it looks forbidding.

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