A Family and a Fortune (11 page)

‘Cosiness, dear, perhaps,' said Matty, with a change in her eyes. ‘I have asked that same question and have had an answer.'

‘The size of the room is well enough for one person,' said Oliver. ‘That is indeed its scope.'

‘Mother dear, I have your permission to send for her?' said Justine, as if the words of others could only be passed over.

‘Well, dear, if you have your aunt's. But I don't know whom we are to send. The servants are busy.'

‘There is no problem there; I will go myself. I have eaten enough and I will be back before the rest of you have finished.'

‘One of the boys could go,' said Edgar.

‘No, Father, I will leave them to satisfy their manly appetites. No one else will understand the exigencies of Miss Griffin's toilet, and be able by a touch and a word to put things right, as I shall.'

‘Certainly no one else will undertake that,' said Mark.

‘Should I come to help with the toilet?' said Aubrey.

‘One of you should walk with your sister,' said Edgar, without a smile.

Aubrey rose with a flush, stood aside for Justine to pass and followed her out of the room.

‘Oh, my baby boy has gone,' said Blanche, not referring to the actual exit.

‘He has developed very much, dear,' said Matty. ‘We shall have him like his brothers after all.'

‘Why should he not be like them?'

‘Well, he will be. We see that now.'

‘He has always seemed to me as promising as either of them. A little less forward for his age, but that is often a good sign.'

‘It must be difficult to judge of children', said Mark, ‘when their progress must count against them.'

‘I can't think of a childhood with less of the success that spells failure,' said Clement.

‘Slow and steady wins the race,' said Oliver, without actually following.

‘He is not particularly slow. He is only different from other people, as all individual people are,' said Blanche. ‘No one with anything in him is just like everyone else.'

‘That cannot be said of anyone here, can it?' said her sister. ‘We are an individual company.'

‘Yes, but no one quite so much so as Aubrey. He is without exception the most individual person I have ever met.'

‘Without exception, dear?' said Matty, bending her head and looking up from under it. ‘Have you forgotten the two young rebels we were talking about just now?'

‘No, but even you and I did not quite come up to him in originality. He is something in himself which none of the rest has been.'

‘I think that is true,' said Mark.

‘Now what do you mean by that? If you mean anything disparaging, it is very petty and absurd. I wish Justine were here to take my part. I can only repeat that there is something in Aubrey which is to me peculiarly satisfying. Edgar, why do you not support me?'

‘You do not seem - you hardly seem to need my help.'

‘But what do you think yourself of the boy? I know you always speak the truth.'

Edgar, who had lately hoped that his son might after all attain the average, broke this record.

‘I see there is much - that there may be much in what you say.'

‘Aubrey is the one with a touch of me in him,' said Dudley. ‘I wish Justine were here too.'

‘Hark! Hush! Listen,' said Matty. ‘Do not make so much noise. Is it Maria's voice in the hall? Blanche, do ask your boys to stop talking. Yes, it is my Maria; Justine must have brought her. She must have arrived this evening. It is a full moment for me, and I am glad for you all to share it.' Matty broke off and sat with a listening expression and set lips.

‘What a pity for her to come like this,' said Blanche, ‘with dinner nearly over! I hope she has had something to eat, but Miss Griffin will have seen to that.'

‘Yes, Miss Griffin will have cared for her, but I am here to give her welcome, And I cannot get my chair away from the table; I cannot manage it; I am dependent upon others; I must sit and wait for help. Yes, it is her voice. Sometimes patience is very hard. Thank you, Dudley; thank you, Edgar; I knew I should not wait long. No one else, Jellamy; too many cooks spoil the broth. I am on my feet now, and I can arrange my lace and touch my hair and make myself look my best, vain person that I am; make myself look like myself, I should rather say, for that is all my aim.'

‘What relation is this friend to you all?' said Sarah, leaning towards Blanche.

‘No relation, only an old friend. She lived near to our old home and my sister saw a good deal of her.'

Sarah gave a grateful nod and leaned back, ready for the scene.

Justine spoke in the doorway.

‘Now, I am simply the herald. I claim no other part. I found Miss Sloane already in the lodge and Miss Griffin at a loss how to manage the situation. So I took it into my own hands. And I feel a thought triumphant. I induced Miss Sloane, tired as she was, travel-stained and unwilling as she was, harassed and moithered by crossing letters and inconsistent trains, to come and join us tonight. Now do you not call that a success? Because it was a hardly earned one. And now you can all share the results.'

A tall, dark woman of fifty entered the room, came towards Matty with a swift but quiet step, exchanged a natural embrace and looked round for her hosts. Blanche came forward in the character; Matty introduced the pair with an air of possession in each; Miss Griffin watched with the open and almost avid interest of one starved of interest and accordingly unversed in its occasions, and Justine took her stand at her side with an air of easy friendship.

‘I do not need an introduction,' said Blanche. ‘I remember you well, Miss Sloane. I am afraid that my daughter has asked rather much of you, but we do appreciate your giving it to us.'

‘Miss Sloane has made a gallant capitulation, Mother, and does not want credit for it any more than any other generous giver.'

‘It is more than we had a right to expect,' said Edgar.

‘It is certainly that, Father. So we will take it in a spirit of simple gratitude.'

‘Well, stolen waters are sweet.'

‘Bravo, Father!' said Justine, smiling at Miss Griffin. ‘He comes up to scratch when there is a demand on him.'

‘I have less right to expect what I am having,' said the guest, in a voice which did not hurry or stumble, shaking hands with several people without hastening or scamping the observance. ‘I am a travel-worn person to appear as a stranger.'

‘It is only a family gathering, Miss Sloane,' said Justine. ‘We honestly welcome a little outside leavening.'

‘We are glad indeed to see you, my dear,' said Oliver, who had got himself out of his chair. ‘You are a good person to set eyes on. I do not know a better.'

‘For heaven's sake sit down, Miss Sloane,' said Justine, when they reached the drawing-room. ‘I shall feel so guilty if you continue to stand.'

‘Now I am dependent upon help to get into a place by my guest,' said Matty, in a clear tone. ‘I cannot join in a scramble.'

‘Poor, dear Aunt Matty, the help is indeed forthcoming. And, boys, you must see that Miss Griffin has no chair.
Thank you, Uncle; I knew you would not countenance that.'

Maria Sloane was a person who seemed to have no faults within her own sphere. She had a tall, light figure, large, grey eyes, features which were good and delicate in their own way rather than of any recognized type, and an air of finished and rather formal ease, which was too natural ever to falter. Matty had said that money seemed not to touch her, and that when they saw her they would understand; and Edgar and Dudley and Mark saw her and understood. Justine and Sarah thought that her clothes were of the kind of simplicity which costs more than elaboration, but she herself knew that when these two qualities are on the same level, simplicity costs much less. Blanche simply admired her and Miss Griffin welcomed her coming with fervid relief. She had lost a lover by death in her youth, and since then had lived in her loss, or gradually in the memory of it. Her parents had lately died, and she had left the home of her youth with the indifferent ease which had come to mark her. She believed that nothing could touch her deeply again, and losing her parents at the natural age had not done so. Her brothers and sisters were married and away, and she now took her share of the money and went forth by herself, seeing that it would suffice for her needs, rather surprised at herself for regretting that they must be modified, and welcoming a shelter in the Seatons' house while she adapted herself to the change. She had rather felt of herself what Matty said of her, that she lived apart from money like a flower, but she had lately realized that not even the extreme example of human adornment was arrayed as one of these.

‘Confess now, Miss Sloane,' said Justine. ‘You would rather be in this simple family party than alone in that little house. Now isn't it the lesser of two evils? I think that nothing is so hopeless as arriving after a long journey and finding the house empty and a cheerless grate, and everything conspiring to mental and moral discomfort.'

‘Has Justine had that experience?' said Mark. ‘If so, we are much to blame.'

‘That could hardly have been the case, dear,' said Matty, ‘with Miss Griffin and Emma in the house.'

‘I meant metaphorically empty and cheerless. We all know what that means.'

‘We are even more to blame,' said Mark.

‘Make up the fire, Aubrey dear,' said Blanche, following the train of thought.

‘It is metaphorically full,' said her son from a chair.

There was laughter, which Aubrey met by kicking his feet and surveying their movement.

‘Get up and make up the fire,' said Clement, who found these signs distasteful.

His brother appeared not to hear.

‘Get up and make up the fire.'

‘Now that is not the way to ask him, Clement,' said Justine. ‘You will only make him obstinate. Aubrey, darling, get up and make up the fire.'

‘Yes, do it, darling,' said Blanche.

‘Now I have been called “darling” twice, I will. Why should I be obliging to people who do not call me “darling” or “little boy” or some other name of endearment?'

There was further laughter, and Aubrey bent over the fire with his face hidden. This seemed a safe attitude, but Clement observed the flush on his neck.

‘Don't go back to the best chair in the room.'

Aubrey strolled back to the chair; Clement intercepted him and put a leg across his path; Justine came forward with a swift rustling and a movement of her arms as of separating two combatants.

‘Come, come, this will not do: I have nothing to say for either of you. Both go back to your seats.'

‘Will one of you help me to move the chair for your mother?' said Edgar, who did not need any aid.

‘Yes, sir,' said Aubrey, with almost military precision.

‘Now I think that Aubrey came out of that the better, Clement,' said Justine.

‘The other fellow doesn't seem to be out of it yet,' said Oliver, glancing at his second grandson. ‘I am at a loss to see why he put himself into it.'

‘Miss Sloane, what must you think of our family?'

‘I have belonged to a family myself,'

‘And do you not now belong to one?' ‘Well, we are all scattered.'

‘I do not dare to think of the time when we shall be apart. It seems the whole of life to be here together.'

Thomas lifted his eyes at this view of a situation which he had just seen illustrated.

‘Do you belong to a family, Miss Griffin?' said Dudley.

‘I did, of course, but we have been scattered for a long time.'

‘I have lived in the same house all my life, and so has my brother,' said Edgar.

‘I have lived in two houses,' said Blanche.

‘I am just in my second,' said Matty, ‘and very strange I am finding it, or should be if it were not for this dear family at my gates. The family at whose gates I am, I should say.'

‘Why should you say it, Aunt Matty?' said Justine. ‘What difference does it make?'

‘I too have just entered my second,' said Oliver, ‘though it hardly seemed worth while for me to do so. I had better have laid myself down on the way.'

‘And you, Miss Sloane?' said Edgar.

‘I am on my way to my second, which must be a very tiny one. It will be the first I have had to myself.'

‘And you have not had your road made easier,' said Oliver. ‘You have been dragged out of it in the dead of night, when you thought that one of your days was done. The way you suffer it speaks well for you.'

‘I have an idea that a good many things do that for Miss Sloane,' said Justine. ‘But you make me feel rather a culprit, Grandpa.'

‘You have done a sorry thing, child, and I propose to undo it. Good night, Blanche, my dear, and good-bye I hope until tomorrow. If it is to be for ever, I am the more glad to have been with you again.'

‘Father is tired,' said Blanche, who would never admit that Oliver at eighty-seven might be near the end of his days.

‘I am tired too,' said Matty, ‘but after such a happy evening with such a satisfying end, I thank you all so much, and I am sure you thank me.'

‘We do indeed,' said Justine. ‘You are tired too, Miss Griffin, and I am afraid after a very brief taste of happiness. But we will make up for it another time.'

‘Oh, I am not tired,' said Miss Griffin, standing up and looking at Matty.

‘Be careful, both of you, on this slippery floor,' said Blanche. ‘I always think that Jellamy puts too much polish on it. Do not hurry.'

‘We shall neither of us be able to do that again,' said Oliver.

Blanche followed her father and sister with her eyes on their steps, and perhaps gave too little attention to her own, for she slipped herself and had to be saved. Justine moved impulsively to Maria.

‘Miss Sloane, I do hope that you are going to spend some time with them? It comes to me somehow that you are just what they need. Can you give me a word of assurance?'