Parents and Children (32 page)

‘I will go and get on with my mending,' said Hatton. ‘I am not sharing the holiday.'

‘Well, what was it?' said Honor, after waiting for the door to close.

‘Well, something like this did happen to my relations,' said Mullet, folding up garments, as if fluency were more natural when her hands were occupied. ‘It was a family of cousins who lived in London; well, an aunt and cousins it really was, but my aunt was a colourless sort of person, who attracted little attention, and it is my cousins whom I always think of as the victims of the stroke of fate.'

‘Well, what happened?' said Honor.

‘It is a little hard to describe,' said Mullet, with a natural hesitation, as she did not yet know what it was. ‘I was never at close quarters with it. It was one of those things that cast their shadows before and aft, and no one could escape the repercussion of it. Well, after my aunt's bereavement there ensued a period of calm.
My aunt was disconsolate, of course, but she maintained the even tenor of her life. And then the change came. The man destined to be my uncle loomed into view.' Mullet's voice deepened at the mention of this destiny. ‘A tall, sinister-looking man he was, with thin lips and a scar stretching across his face, and twisting in an odd way round his mouth. Handsome in a way, of course, with a kind of sinister charm, but a man whose very presence seemed to cast some primitive spell.'

‘How did he get the scar? said Gavin.

‘It was never spoken of, Master Gavin. There seemed to be a sort of unwritten law that no word of it should pass human lips,' said Mullet, her voice gaining confidence. ‘And none ever crossed my father's or mine. I daresay he thought it was hardly a subject for my ears.'

‘He knew about it then,' said Honor.

‘Well, Miss Honor, these things pass from men to men. I suspect he had his shrewd suspicions. He was a shrewd man in his way.'

‘Well, what happened to the family?'

‘In a way nothing, in a way everything. That is the best way to put it.'

‘But what was it?' said Honor, not taking this view.

‘A strange, uncanny atmosphere brooded over that house. Laughter never seemed to sound, and the sun never to shine in those rooms. And in the place of those happy children, who used to shout and play in that deep-vaulted hall, there were tall, grave men and women, with haunted eyes, and lips that had forgotten how to smile. And my aunt crept in and out, a sad, silent being, who seemed to have more in common with another world. That is how things were in that household.'

‘But what did he do, the man with the scar?' said Gavin.

‘You may well ask, Master Gavin. He did what he did. It is best not to say any more.'

‘One of those things that children are not told,' said Honor.

‘And those purposes needed money, whatever they were,' went on Mullet, hastening her words. ‘In those days all the wife's money belonged to the man; and he used to dole her own income out to her in pence, or in pounds I expect it was, or in low banknotes,
but in small enough sums, considering her worldly estate. Yes, she must have felt she had come on evil days.'

‘And how are things now?' said Honor.

‘As far as I know, as they were. I have no wish to hear. It could be no good news.'

‘I should think it is better here than in that house.'

‘Oh, so should I,' said Mullet, with a little laugh. ‘And now we must remember that you are to be punctual downstairs today.'

Honor turned to the door, expecting to see Hatton, and confirmed in the anticipation.

‘We shan't have to be so punctual when Mother is not here,' said Gavin, simply stating a fact.

‘And why not, Master Gavin?' said Mullet.

‘She will be with us often enough to keep us up to the mark,' said Hatton.

‘It is funny that Mr Ridley and Mother should both want to live together,' said Honor. ‘It is a coincidence.'

‘A frequent one in marriage, I hope,' said Hatton.

Mullet laughed.

‘This isn't a real marriage,' said Honor. ‘The Queen wouldn't see Mother now. She wouldn't see either of them.'

‘Don't talk nonsense, Miss Honor; of course she would,' said Mullet.

‘Mr Ridley is the worst, because it is the man who asks the woman to marry him.'

‘A woman is not allowed to,' said Gavin.

‘Neither the mistress nor Mr Ridley is doing anything wrong.'

‘Not so that they could be put in prison,' said Honor. ‘But some of the worst wrong things are not like that.'

‘You must have heard of people marrying twice. It is not like you to talk in such a silly way.'

‘It is a thing that only unusual people talk sensibly about,' said Hatton.

‘Honor is unusual,' said Gavin. ‘Father said she was.'

‘Well, she wants other people to think so too,' said Mullet.

‘I don't care if they don't,' said Honor; ‘I don't want them to think the same.'

‘James doesn't mind if Mother marries Mr Ridley,' said Gavin. ‘I don't mind either, if they like to do it.'

‘That is a good reason,' said Hatton.

‘He doesn't mind,' said Nevill. ‘He is the same as James.'

‘I know why Mother wants to marry him; said Honor. ‘I always understand things. It is because she hadn't anyone to think so much of her as Father did, when she had got used to it. But I shouldn't ever marry a second person, when the first one had done that.'

‘I daresay the people won't ask you,' said Gavin. ‘You are not allowed to ask them yourself.'

‘He will marry her,' said Nevill, nodding at Honor.

‘You won't be allowed to,' said Gavin. ‘You are her brother.'

‘He isn't allowed either,' said Nevill, pointing at Gavin.

‘Now none of this talk downstairs,' said Hatton. ‘Don't say a word about it, unless other people do.'

Her injunction was heeded by one of her hearers, who ran up to Regan as he entered the room.

‘He won't talk about it,' he promised.

‘What is the forbidden subject?' she said.

Nevill looked at her, as if he would explain, if he had the words.

‘Mother and Mr Ridley marrying,' said Gavin, in a ruthless tone.

‘A nurse's idea,' said Sir Jesse. ‘We may have our own.'

‘I have not avoided the subject today,' said Eleanor.

‘Least said, soonest mended,' said Honor.

‘There is nothing that requires mending,' said her mother.

‘Nevill reminds me of James at that age,' said Luce, as if she had not heard what had passed. ‘He has no touch of Gavin.'

‘Not him and Gavin,' said Nevill. ‘Him and James.'

‘None of you seems like another to me,' said Eleanor. ‘Perhaps Daniel and Gavin are a little alike.'

‘And Isabel and Honor, Mother,' said Luce.

‘Well, not so much alike, as with a good deal in common.'

‘Soundly observed in a way, Mother, but Father used to say they were alike,' said Luce, her tone setting the example of continued easy reference to her father.

‘Have you settled on a house, Eleanor?' said Regan. ‘I suppose you have made a search for one.'

‘We have done everything but sign the lease. I think we cannot do better.'

‘It is a nice house,' said Nevill.

‘What do you know about it?' said Gavin.

‘Mother will live there with Mr Ridley.'

‘What house is it?' said Honor.

‘The square house near the church,' said her mother. ‘It is called the Grey House.'

‘Isn't it very small?'

‘Not for the two of us. It has six bedrooms. This house has given you a wrong standard. I have always foreseen that you will have to modify your ideas.'

‘It is a sort of grey,' said Gavin.

‘No, not grey,' said Nevill.

‘It has a green lawn,' said Luce.

‘Where is the lawn?' said Gavin.

‘In front of the house,' said his mother.

‘I don't call that a lawn.'

‘What do you call it?'

‘A patch of grass.'

‘You will all have to live in a castle.'

‘A great, big castle,' said Nevill. ‘He will live in one with soldiers in it. It is called a fort.'

‘I must get you some toy cottages,' said Eleanor. ‘I saw some in London.'

‘When will you get them?' said Gavin, coming nearer.

‘Ridley will bring them. They will be a present from us both. Perhaps he will bring them tomorrow.'

‘No, today,' said Nevill, with rising feeling. ‘Today.'

‘Tomorrow will soon be here,' said Luce.

‘It won't,' said Nevill, in a tone of experience.

‘Is there anything joined to the cottages?' said Gavin.

‘There is a little garden with a patch of grass,' said Eleanor, with a smile.

‘A cottage with a hen,' said Nevill.

‘Miss Pilbeam might help us to make a pigsty,' said Honor.

‘The ideas for future establishments are suitably modified,' said Daniel.

‘Mother dear, your scheme is crowned with success,' said Luce.

‘We shouldn't want to live in the cottages,' said Gavin.

‘He will live in a cottage,' said Nevill. ‘With Hatton.'

‘What would you have to eat?' said Daniel.

‘A hen would lay an egg,' said Nevill, without hesitation.

‘Who would eat the egg? You or Hatton?'

‘One for Hatton and one for him.'

‘But would one hen lay two eggs ?'

‘One, two, three, four, five, six, fourteen.'

‘But you would be sick, if you ate so many.'

‘Give them all to Hatton,' said Nevill, in a tone of suitably and generously solving the problem.

‘Now you three can go upstairs,' said Eleanor. ‘No one else can speak while you are here. Now, James, let us hear your voice.'

‘Will you often be at luncheon after you are married?' said James, recalled by his predicament to the time when it might be less frequent.

‘I shall be there when Grandma asks me. Now see if you can open your mouth without asking a question.'

‘There is a monkey-puzzle tree in front of your house. On the piece of grass, on the lawn.'

‘Do you think you will ever have a house of your own?' said Eleanor.

‘Yes. Everyone is paid enough for that. Even a labourer has a cottage. And if he can't earn, he can go to the workhouse.'

‘Constant stimulus has not been in vain,' said Daniel. ‘Witness the gulf between James's ideas and those of the other.'

‘With the children reconciled to cottages, and James to the workhouse,' said Graham, looking at the window, ‘Mother need not be distressed about the notions of her family.'

‘But it would be sad to be brought to the workhouse,' said Eleanor to James, fearing she had made such a prospect too natural.

‘It is better than it was, more comfortable.'

‘James has carried his concern to the point of investigation,' said Daniel. ‘He can pass on to Graham anything that Graham needs to know. So all Mother's sons are provided for.'

‘You will step into my shoes yourself?' said Sir Jesse.

There was silence.

‘With their father in his grave, it is no wonder if it seems the natural place for his parents,' said Regan.

‘There is no problem about our final accommodation,' said Graham. ‘We have no anxiety there.'

‘People in the workhouse can have a pauper's funeral,' said James.

‘I think that is enough about the workhouse,' said Eleanor.

‘What can a man do to earn the most?' said James, as if going as far as possible from the subject.

‘We have reached that estate, and do not know,' said Daniel.

‘Has Grandpa earned a great deal?'

‘He has never needed to earn,' said Isabel. ‘Things will be different for you.'

‘Did Father earn very much?'

‘Heredity seems to justify James in his perplexity,' said Daniel. ‘And it throws no light for any of us.'

‘The first thing to do is to work and get to Cambridge,' said Eleanor.

‘But Daniel and Graham are there, and they don't know about earning. And that is the only thing that matters, isn't it?'

Eleanor was silent before this result of her admonitions.

‘You have to be an educated man before you can do anything.'

‘That does not seem to James the sequence of affairs,' said Graham.

‘No,' said James, in a light but unshaken voice.

‘Perhaps we will leave these problems to the future,' said Eleanor.

‘You had better have done so, Mother,' said Luce, in a low, amused tone.

‘James would never have objected to that arrangement,' said Isabel.

‘If Ridley does not come to a meal, he loses no time afterwards,' said Regan, as she heard a bell.

‘He is welcome,' said Sir Jesse. ‘He comes to see one who has been a daughter to us.'

‘Grandma, we shall dread to hear your voice,' said Luce.

Some minutes elapsed before Ridley's entering the room, and then he advanced in the wake of Hope, and spoke without emerging from this shelter.

‘I am come to proffer another plea on my own account. I should have said it was a thing I seldom did, but I must seem to be making up for lost time. You will think it never rains but it pours. I have to beg that my marriage may be hastened. I find that the effect of delay on myself, on my work, and on my clients, will be such that it becomes imperative to avoid it. Some waiting correspondence has brought my position home to me. I have no choice but to beg permission to bring matters to a climax.'

‘He does not know whose permission should be asked,' said Hope, ‘and I do not either. I am glad he is so ill at ease. It may be one of those times when we feel we have never liked people so well.'

‘Have I the sanction of the person who should give it?' said Ridley.