with the remodeling, which did not cost the
landlady very much since Mr. andrews gave his
services free, did some of the carpentry himself
(he had learned at the workshop in the sanato
rium), and found a secondhand sink and plumb
ing fixtures in the junkyards he haunted, looking
for treasure. polly learned to paint, well enough
to do the bookshelves and cupboards; she sewed
curtains from old sheets, with a blue and red
border, the colors of the French flag, and she got
to work with upholstery tacks and recovered two
of the landlady’s Victorian chairs.
Who doesn’t desire his father’s death?
—Fyodor Dostoevsky, c. 1880
The apartment, when it was finished, was
delightful, with its old marble fireplaces and in
side shutters; if Mr. andrews and polly were ever
to leave it, the landlady could rent it for much
more than she was charging them. Carried away
with his success, Mr. andrews wanted to redo
the whole house into apartments and make the
landlady’s fortune—a project polly vetoed. Mr.
andrews had to content himself with the plan
of making polly a little winter garden or green
house for her plants, outside the back windows,
which had a southern exposure; he wanted this
to be polly’s Christmas present and spent a good
deal of his time at the glazier’s.
The change in Mr. andrews amazed every
one who knew him. it could not be just the di
vorce, his sister Julia said, nor dear polly’s good
heart and youthful spirits. something else must
have happened to Henry. it was polly’s mother
who provided the information, during a visit she
made to new York, where she stayed with her
exsisterinlaw on park avenue. “They changed
the name of his illness, did you know that, polly?
They don’t call it melancholia any more. They
call it manicdepressive psychosis. When Henry
heard that, he felt as if he’d been cheated all these
years. He’d only had the ‘depressed’ phase, you
see. He cheered up extraordinarily and began to
make all these projects. beginning with the crazy
notion that we ought to get a divorce. at first i
went along with it just to humor him. You know,
the way i did when he insisted on being baptized
into the Roman faith by the village curé and then
baptized all you children himself. i knew those
baptisms were otiose, since you’d all been chris
tened as infants in the episcopal church. Well,
i assumed the divorce bug would pass, like the
Romanism bug. but he got more and more set on
it and on coming to new York. so i finally said to
myself, ‘Why not? Henry may have a good idea,
after all. at our time of life, there’s no earthly rea
son to stay together if we don’t feel like it.’ and
i’ve been a new woman myself ever since.” polly
looked at her mother, pouring tea at aunt Julia’s
table. it was true; she was blooming, like an ex
pansive widow, and she had had a new perma
nent wave. “excuse me, madam,” said Ross, who
was passing biscuits, “but why couldn’t you and
Mr. Henry just live apart, the way so many cou
ples do?” “Henry said that wouldn’t be respect
able,” replied Mrs. andrews. “it would be like
living together without marriage—living apart
without a divorce.” “i see,” said Ross. “i never
thought of it that way.” she gave polly a wink.
“i can run the farm much better myself,” Mrs.
andrews went on to polly, lighting a cigarette
and oblivious of polly’s blush. “With just your
brothers’ help. Henry was always interfering, and
he’s never cared for domestic animals. He was
only interested in his pot herbs and his kitchen
garden. now that he’s gone, we’ve bought some
black angus and i’m going to try turkeys for the
Thanksgiving market—i’ve been to see Charles
& Company and they took an order. if Henry
were there, he’d insist on Chinese pheasants or
peacocks. and peacocks are such an unpleasant
bird! Quarrelsome and shrill.”
From The group. McCarthy was orphaned
at the age of six after her parents were killed by
the influenza epidemic of 1918, living first
with relatives in Minnesota and then with her
grandparents in Seattle. Attending Vassar College
at the same time as Elizabeth Bishop, she graduated
in 1933 and soon began writing for The new
Republic and The nation. McCarthy published her
first work of fiction, The Company she Keeps, in
1942, her autobiography, Memories of a Catholic
girlhood, in 1957, and The group in 1963.
