A Family and a Fortune (34 page)

‘He saved Miss Griffin,' said Aubrey; ‘himself he could not save.'

‘My dear, think what you are saying. What makes you talk like that?'

‘Excess of feeling and a wish to disguise it,' said Aubrey, but not aloud.

‘Where has Miss Griffin been?' said Mark.

‘At the Middletons' house, where your uncle took her on the day when your grandfather died,' said Matty, stating the fact without expression. ‘I know no more.'

‘We must go. Good-bye, Aunt Matty,' said Justine. ‘Maria is in the hall. Keep Aubrey with Mr Penrose, and the house to its course. We can't say yet just what we may require of you.'

‘Command me, dear, to any service,' said Matty, with a hint of dryness in her tone.

‘You can send me word,' said Aubrey, ‘and I will command my aunt.'

Edgar was in advance of his family and was the first to enter his brother's room. Miss Griffin met him at the door, and the way she spoke of Dudley, as if he could not hear, warned him of his state.

‘He is very ill. He must have been ill for days. He will have me with him; he will not be left to the nurse.' She stood, stooping forward, with her eyes bright and fixed from want of sleep. ‘He is like Mrs Gaveston in that. The doctor says that his heart is holding out and that he may get well.'

Dudley was raised a little in his bed, the limpness of his body showing his lack of strength to support himself, his breathing audible to Edgar at the door. His eyes were still and seemed not to see, but as his brother came they saw.

‘What is the time?' he said in a faint, rapid voice between his breaths. ‘They do not tell it to me right.'

‘It is about twelve o'clock.'

‘No, it is the afternoon,' said Dudley, with a cry in his tone. ‘I have been asleep for hours.'

‘Yes, you have had a sleep,' said Miss Griffin, in a cheerful, ordinary voice, which she changed and lowered as she turned to Edgar. ‘It was only for a few minutes. He never sleeps for more.'

‘It will soon be night,' said Dudley.

‘Not just yet, but it is getting nearer.'

Dudley lay silent, his expression showing his hopeless facing of the hours of the day.

‘Does the time seem very long to him?' said Edgar.

‘Yes, it is so with very sick people. It is as if he were living in a dream. A minute may seem like hours.'

Dudley fell into a fit of coughing and lay helplessly shaken, and under cover of the sound Miss Griffin's voice became quicker and more confidential.

‘Oh, I am glad I could come to him; I am glad that he sent for me. It was a good thing that I was not with Miss Seaton. She might not have let me come. She said she would never let me nurse anyone but her again. But I don't expect she would have kept to that.'

‘I am sure she would not,' said Edgar. ‘Is there anything my brother would like?'

‘If only it would stop!' said Dudley, looking at Edgar as he heard the word of himself.

Edgar turned to him with so much pain in his face, that he saw it and in the desperation of his suffering tried to push it further.

‘If only it would stop for a second! So that I could get a moment's sleep. Just for a moment.'

‘He is not like himself,' said Edgar. ‘It seems - it reminds me of when my wife was ill.'

There were the sounds of the carriage below and Miss Griffin spoke with appeal.

‘Is anyone coming who can help? I have been with him all day and all night. He cannot bear to be with strangers, and he should not be nursed by anyone who is too tired.'

‘My wife and daughter are here,' said Edgar, the word of his second wife bringing the thought that he could not replace his brother. ‘And any help can come from the house at once. In the meantime my sons and I have hands and ordinary sense, and can be put to any service.'

Maria came into the room and Dudley saw her.

‘It is the afternoon,' he said, as if she would allow it to be so.

‘Not yet,' she said, coming up to the bed. ‘You did not send for us, Dudley. That was wrong.'

‘I sent for Miss Griffin.'

‘Yes, but you should have sent for Edgar and me.'

‘I only want to have someone here.

I don't think you are different from other people,' said Dudley, in a rapid, empty tone, which did not seem to refer to what she said, looking at her with eyes which recognized her and did no more. ‘It doesn't matter if we are not married. I like Edgar best.'

‘Of course you do. I knew it all the time. And he feels the same for you.'

‘If I could get to sleep, the day would soon be gone. And this is the longest day.'

Maria turned to speak to her husband and Dudley's eyes followed her, and the moment of attention steadied him and he fell asleep.

Justine entered and kept her eyes from the bed, as if she would fulfil her duty before she followed her will.

‘I have come to take Miss Griffin to rest, and then to wait upon anyone. The boys have gone on some messages. Father, the doctor is here and can see you.'

Dudley was awake and lay coughing and looking about as if afraid.

‘Is it another day? Shall I get well?'

‘Of course you will,' said the nurse. ‘It is the same day. You only slept for a little while. But to sleep at all is a good sign.'

‘People are here, are they? Not only you?'

‘Justine and I are here,' said Maria.

‘Why are you both here?'

‘We both like to be with you,'

‘Is it the afternoon?'

‘It will be soon. Would you like me to read to you?'

‘Will you put in any feeling?'

‘No, none at all.'

‘Who is that person who puts in feeling? Matty would, wouldn't she? And Justine?' Dudley gave a smile.

‘What book will you have?'

‘Not any book. Something about -'

‘About what?' said Maria, bending over him.

‘You know, you know!' said Dudley in a frightened voice, throwing up his arms.

The movement brought a fit of coughing, and as it abated he lay trembling, with a sound of crying in the cough. Edgar and the doctor entered and seeing them broke his mood, though he did not seem to know them.

‘Well, I haven't much to live for,' he said to himself. ‘I am really almost alone. It isn't much to leave behind.' He tried to raise himself and spoke almost with a scream. ‘If I die, Miss Griffin must have some money! You will give her some? You won't keep it all?'

‘Yes, yes, of course we will. She shall have enough,' said Edgar. ‘But you will not die.'

Something in the voice came through to Dudley, and he lay looking at his brother with a sort of appraisement.

‘You don't like me to be ill,' he said, in a shrewd, almost knowing tone. ‘Then you should not make me ill. It is your fault.'

‘He does not know what he is saying,' said the nurse.

‘I do,' said Dudley, nodding his head. ‘Oh, I know.'

‘How long will it go on?' said Edgar to the doctor.

‘It cannot be quick. He is as ill as he can be, and any change must be slow. And the crisis has yet to come.'

The crisis came, and Dudley sank to the point of death, and just did not pass it. Then as he lived through the endless days, each one doubled by the night, he seemed to return to this first stage, and this time drained and shattered by the contest waged within him. Blanche's frailer body, which had broken easily, seemed to have stood her in better stead. But the days which passed and showed no change, did deeper work, and the sudden advance towards health had had its foundations surely laid. The morning came when he looked at his brother with his own eyes.

‘You have had a long time with me.'

‘We have, Dudley, and more than that.'

‘Do they know that I shall get better?'

‘Yes, you are quite out of danger.'

‘Did you think I should get well?'

‘We were not always sure.'

Dudley saw what was behind the words, but was too weak to pursue it.

‘Shall I be the same as before?'

‘Yes. There will be no ill results.'

Dudley turned away his head in weakness and self-pity.

‘You can go away if you like. There is nothing you can do. Where is Miss Griffin?'

Miss Griffin was there, as she always was at this time. The lighter nursing of this stage was within her powers. Dudley reached out his hands and smiled into her eyes, and Edgar watched and went away.

These moments came more often and at last marked another stage. Then the change was swift, and further stages lay behind. Dudley was to be taken to his brother's house to lie in his own bed, but before the day came even this stage had passed. The change was more rapid in his mind than in his body. In himself he seemed to be suddenly a whole man. The threat of death, with its lesson of what he had to lose, had shown him that life as he had lived it was enough. He asked no more than he had, chose to have only this. His own personality, free of the strain and effort of the last months, was as full and natural as it had been in his youth.

His return to the house as an essential member of it was too much a matter of course to be discussed. It was observed with celebration, Dudley both expecting and enjoying it. Maria went home in advance to get order in the house, and Edgar and Miss Griffin were to manage the move and follow.

Matty had been an efficient steward, but the servants did not bend to her simply autocratic rule, and Jellamy was open in his welcome. She seemed to be oppressed by her time of solitude, and kept to the background more than was her habit, seeming to acknowledge herself as bound less closely to the house. She knew that Maria realized her effect on its life, and was trying to establish a different intercourse, welcoming her as a family connexion and her own friend, but keeping the relation to this ground.

The family waited in the door for the carriage to appear.

‘Well, what a moment!' said Justine. ‘To think that our normal life is to be restored! It seems almost too much. It shows us what rich people we are.'

‘That has hardly been true of us of late,' said Mark.

‘Yes, it is partly the force of contrast. The sharp edge of our appreciation will be blunt. So we will make the most of it.'

‘I deprecate the method of enhancing our feeling.'

‘Our worst chapter is behind, our very worst. And I mean what I say; I use the words advisedly. You need not all look at me. You see, our grief for Mother was unsullied. This would have had its alloy.'

‘Relief from anxiety gives the impression of happiness,' said Clement.

‘Then let us have that impression,' said his brother.

‘Here they come!' We must set our faces to disguise our emotion,' said Aubrey, doing as he said.

‘I don't want to disguise it,' said his sister, wiping her eyes. ‘I do not care how much of it is seen by Uncle or anyone else. I should not like to go away and nearly die, and come back to unmoved faces.'

‘Neither should I,' said Dudley's voice. ‘I could not bear it. I do not like people not to show their feelings. If they do not, they are no good to anyone but themselves, and they don't enjoy them nearly so much as the people who cause them. And it is better to have proof of everything, anyhow of feelings.'

‘Oh,' said Justine, with a deep sigh, ‘the old touch!'

‘I must pay great attention,' said Aubrey. ‘I have been a long time without an example.'

‘Stay,' said his sister, thrusting a hand behind her as she strode forward. ‘I am going to help Uncle out. I am going to use my feminine privilege in an unusual way.'

‘She looks equal to it,' said Matty, smiling at Maria.

‘Oh, someone else is to come out first,' said Justine, turning and ruefully raising her brows. ‘Oh, it is Miss Griffin. Uncle does not forget to be himself. Well, it will give me great pleasure to help them both.'

‘How do you do, Miss Seaton?' said Miss Griffin, as she set foot upon the ground, embarking on her ordeal at once.

‘How do you do, my dear?' said Matty, shaking hands with cordial affection. ‘We owe a great deal to you.'

‘What a good thing it is that I am spared!' said Dudley, descending on his niece's arm. ‘It is generally the valuable lives that are cut off, but I can feel that a real attempt was made on mine.'

‘You helped yourself a great deal,' said Miss Griffin.

‘And heaven helps those who do that. But I really don't remember any help but yours.'

‘Now up to your room. No more talking,' said Justine, bringing her hands together. ‘Not another moment in this chilly hall. Maria, you do not mind my taking matters into my own hands. You see, Uncle has been bound up with the whole of my life.'

‘It is well that Maria feels as you say,' said Clement.

Justine's words brought a sense of what was behind, and Edgar cleared a way through the hall. Dudley was assisted by his nephews to his room. He would have been able to walk with Edgar's help, but the brothers shrank from following their natural ways, as yet unsure of their footing. The uncertainty had come with Dudley's return to health.

‘Well, what are we to do to celebrate the occasion?' said Matty, with something of her old tense touch.

‘Go into the drawing-room and sit quietly down,' said Justine, in a rather loud tone, ‘and give ourselves to thank-fulness.'

‘Yes, dear, that is what we feel inclined to do. So we are to indulge ourselves,' said Matty, putting her niece's inclinations on their right level, and taking her seat by the fire in silence.

‘Uncle will come and join us for an hour when he is rested.'

‘Well, I will wait for that, if Maria will let me.' ‘You will wait for it, of course, with all of us,' said Maria.

Mark and Clement returned.

‘Uncle is resting in his own room and Miss Griffin in another.'

‘Not in the same room?' said Aubrey.