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Authors: Ivy Compton-Burnett

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“This can be my errand, Father. I think I was wandering about in the hope of one.”

“Uncle would not let Rosebery know we said he was a changeling,” said Alice.

“I wish we did not always appear to disadvantage,” said Francis. “He will assume we are always ignobly occupied when we are alone.”

“Then you should be alone no longer,” said Hester's voice. “I have a word to say to you, and I think you have one to say to me. I believe you would like to tell me how you have felt in these last days. I am sure it would explain so much that would be best explained.”

“Perhaps the less said about it, the better,” said Francis. “Though I fear the line has not been followed.”

“Pettigrew did not follow it,” said Adrian.

“We put our freedom to a base use,” said his brother.

“Now you know that is not the whole,” said Hester.

“Well, it is the part that emerged.”

“And by which we must stand or fall,” said Alice; “that is to say, fall.”

“And you feel you must keep the rest to yourselves?”

Adrian broke into tears.

“Now what did I say?” said Hester, holding out her arms to him.

He went to her, and the others looked on in silence.

“So my instinct was a true one. People do not look below the surface.”

“Pettigrew found the surface enough,” said Francis. “He had to have Uncle's help with it.”

“I would have managed by myself,” said Hester, lifting her head.

“You are seeing us after we have been conquered,” said Adrian, still weeping.

“But not in fair fight.”

“We conquered Pettigrew in unfair fight,” said Alice. “And he followed our example.”

“And it was worse, when Aunt Miranda was dead,” said Adrian.

“It was because of that, that it all happened,” said Hester. “Does not your uncle come up to see you at about this time?”

“Perhaps he will not come again to-day.”

“I am sure he will. It is not in him to bear malice.”

“How little malice there is in the world!” said Francis. “Pettigrew bore so little, that it was quite embarrassing.”

“I will wait until your uncle comes,” said Hester, drawing Adrian closer to her side.

Chapter IX

“What shall we do about Thursday?” said Miss Burke.

“Why should we do anything?” said Emma.

“Miss Wolsey is bringing Mr. Hume and his son to luncheon.”

“But she is not bringing Mrs. Hume.”

“Well, I suppose not, when she is dead.”

“Oh, do not speak lightly of death, dear.”

“Which of us is doing that?”

“Both of us; but it is Mrs. Hume's death; and perhaps she deserved to die.”

“Why more than anyone else?” said Miss Burke.

“How generous you are, when you must see a reason!”

“Do you think rejecting my services should be punished with death?”

“Yes, if I put myself in your place; and that is what I ought to do.”

“Well, are they to take us as we are?”

“Well, how can we prove to them that they are doing so?”

“I think they would gather it.”

“Then of course they must not do so.”

“The men must have enough to eat,” said Miss Burke.

“I thought they never did at a woman's table. It is the men who say so. So they ought not to expect it.”

“But you do not want to be like other people.”

“No, I never know how they bear it. I can only think they do not know. Indeed I have noticed they do not.”

“We can have it as we did last time, but with better wine. Mr. Hume is not his son.”

“You are always right,” said Emma. “But won't it all be wasted on people without a woman's observation?”

“The wine would more likely be wasted on people with one. Miss Wolsey would want it to be good. You say she likes Mr. Hume.”

“Surely I do not say such things.”

“You mean it might be taken to mean too much?”

“I mean it does mean too much.”

“She does not want to marry Mr. Hume.”

“I am glad, dear. I was afraid she did.”

“She surely has not said so?” said Miss Burke.

“Well, she said he would have a lonely old age. And she might want to prevent it. She might feel she ought. And indeed perhaps someone ought.”

“Would you object to her marrying him?”

“Yes, I like to be the first person in her life.”

“I think you always would be.”

“But I like to be thought to be the first.”

“Is Mr. Hume attracted by her?”

“What a primitive question, dear!”

“It seems that the son would be more suitable.”

“Well, I believe it did to him,” said Emma.

“Did he propose to her? And so soon after his mother's death?”

“I think he said it was because of it.”

“And did she refuse him?”

“Isn't it a triumph for us, dear?”

“And then she betrayed him to you?”

“Well, we have no secrets from each other.”

“Would she mind my knowing?”

“No one would want a proposal not to be known.”

“We shall be afraid to look at any of them on Thursday.”

“But women have so much courage. Sometimes perhaps too much.”

“I wonder why he thought Miss Wolsey would accept him,” said Miss Burke.

“Well, most men think that about someone, and find they are right.”

“He must know he is not like other men.”

“Well, most men do that too.”

“And Miss Wolsey is like other women. You know what I mean.”

“Yes, wanting to marry the widower in whose house you work, is very like them. What is the matter with Plautus?”

“He has been chased by another cat.”

“Why did he not give chase himself?”

“Well, you know what a coward he is.”

“I have no admiration for courage. There seems to be so much. And it is the thing that causes cowardice. It made Plautus run away. Well, Plautus, do you know that Hester is coming, and are you excited?”

Plautus did know, as he recognised the symptoms, but left the matter there.

“You are thinking about that other cat. Oh, look at him telling me about it. But what a disgrace to run away!”

Plautus purred his assent to what she said.

“Well, am I to have a free hand on Thursday?” said Miss Burke.

“If you need one. Mrs. Hume will not be here. Yes, I know it is because she is dead. But that makes it all the more certain.”

“If we have things different from last time, the son will know we made an effort for his mother.”

“But wouldn't he appreciate that?”

“You are not as simple as you pretend to be.”

“Oh, no, dear. It is the form my cleverness takes.”

“You mean it is the form you give it.”

“Well, I thought that was clever.”

“Well, make up your mind about Thursday.”

“You have made it up for me. I wonder why people have such a low standard for themselves. I thought my house was run so that friends could drop in at any moment. Yes, I daresay they do not drop in. But I thought they could.”

“Well, so they can. Things are good enough for that.”

“It is because there are not enough friends. How you must know people's secrets! I am proud that three people are coming to luncheon, and that two of them are men. I suppose you know that, and it is really a secret. Plautus, you heard what I said, and I am beneath your notice.”

Plautus's demeanour did hold the suggestion.

“Mr. Hume's son does not like cats,” said Miss Burke. “I think he is afraid of them.”

“That is always why people do not like animals. I do not like wolves and bears myself.”

“I believe I am afraid of Plautus.”

“Yes, so do I, dear.”

“Shall we leave Mr. Hume and his son alone after luncheon?”

“No, they are father and son. They will not want a man's conversation. Men who live together talk like women.”

“And how do women talk?”

“Like women. That is the fundamental way. Women have no reason to abandon it. Why should people talk of impersonal things when they do not have to? Men think fundamental talk beneath them, and of course it is very low. You must know about it. Or are you pretending not to have been a companion?”

“I don't think our talk is low.”

“No, neither do I, dear. Well, we shall look forward to Thursday. The day will come at last.”

The day came, and the guests with it, and Julius was introduced to the women.

“I think we have met before,” he said to Miss Burke.

“Yes, in your house, when I came about the post as Mrs. Hume's companion.”

“Miss Burke is not afraid of the truth, Father,” said Rosebery. “I think there are few things of which she would be afraid.”

“Applying for posts does develope the courage,” said Hester. “I have only done it by letter, but the encounter had to come.”

“We have only pleasant recollections of the occasion, Miss Wolsey.”

“Plautus, you were to have been shut up,” said Emma.

“Not on my account, Miss Greatheart. I confess to a slight antipathy to cats, but it would ill become me to have to be protected from one.”

“It would indeed,” said Hester, inviting Plautus to her lap, and compelling him to occupy it. “Plautus, you are so different from Tabbikin. How you are two distinct individualities!”

“I was thinking the opposite,” said Julius. “Surely they have much the same ways.”

“Shockingly the same,” said Emma. “Suppose Plautus is an average cat!”

“Do you care for him yourself?” said Julius.

“No, Miss Burke does that now. Oh, you mean in the other sense. But Plautus does not mean it.”

“He does not mind who looks after him?”

“Isn't it dreadful of him? He does not refuse to take food from any hand but ours. You will find that he does not.”

“You are both very unperceptive,” said Hester. “But I shall teach you better, Mr. Hume. You will learn so much cat-lore from me. And you will find it so rewarding.”

“I am too old for fresh lores. And this one takes a long time, to judge from Miss Greatheart's progress.”

“She is pandering to you, a thing I should scorn to do. I should not hope to win your respect in that way. I should not value it, if I did.”

“Luncheon is ready,” said Miss Burke. “Will you have Plautus in the dining-room?”

“Miss Burke,” said Rosebery, “you will allow me to put in a plea for his presence?”

“Well, I am the only other person who dislikes him, and I do not count.”

“Miss Burke,” said Rosebery, in a low, startled tone, “surely that is not the case!”

“I meant I was used to putting up with him.”

“Words are such an unsatisfactory medium, dear,” said Emma.

“May I relieve you of the carving, Miss Greatheart?” said Rosebery. “You will talk the better to your guests. I have done it at our own table since my mother left us.”

“I can undertake it in future,” said Hester. “I always think it is the woman's business. It was once regarded as such. It was late that feminine helplessness came into fashion.”

“There is much to be said for feminine leisure and its results,” said Rosebery.

“There is more to most of us for feminine labour and the results of that. It is no good to shut our eyes to it.”

“I think it is a little help,” said Emma. “Otherwise we should have to face it.”

“To my mind ‘woman' and ‘labour' are terms that should be kept apart,” said Rosebery, as he exerted himself.

“There, see what a help you are finding it.”

“Miss Greatheart, this occasion recalls to me the one that may be called its prototype. I feel that its pleasures are in a sense shared with my mother. It renders every enjoyment a double one.”

“It is kind of you to come again and to bring your father.”

“I am a sorry substitute,” said Julius.

“Father! No one thought of you in that light.”

“You have come home, Miss Wolsey,” said Julius. “We forget that our house is not that to you.”

“I forget it myself. It shows it is becoming so.”

“This is a home such as I look to have myself one day,” said Rosebery, looking round.

“A hope that will hardly be realised,” said Emma. “Your future is not in your hands.”

“Miss Greatheart, I have taken it into my hands. I have withdrawn from my position as my father's heir, in favour of his elder nephew, who has met me with great consideration. I am at liberty to sketch the outline of my future; and a home on this scale would accord with my tastes, and also with my means, as I shall experience the pleasures of contrivance. Of course it is all in the future, and I hope in the distant one. During my father's lifetime his home is naturally mine.”

“Why did you act nobly?”

“I did not do so. I acted in accordance with my wishes. Prominence and responsibility are foreign to me, possibly owing to my long dependence on my mother's guidance. Indeed I have a feeling that I am still acting under it.”

“I never know why self-sacrifice is noble,” said Miss Burke. “Why is it better to sacrifice oneself than someone else?”

“It is no better,” said Hester, “and it is not really held to be.”

“It does not seem that we ought to matter ourselves as much as other people,” said Emma. “But I have never met a case of self-sacrifice.”

“Thank you Miss Greatheart,” said Rosebery. “You do not regard my action in that light.”

“It would be trying to be the object of it,” said Hester.

“That would be the best thing to be,” said Miss Burke. “There would be some compensation.”

“Sacrifice should be anonymous, or it does not deserve the name.”

BOOK: Mother and Son
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