The Friend of Women and Other Stories (22 page)

E
LIDA
: But you don't need me, Aunt Nellie.
I
mean you could get a
real
companion who would dress you and make up your medicines.

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Sternly):
A “real” companion? Is
this
my reward for putting you through college, Elida Rodman?

E
LIDA
(Hanging her head):
Oh, no.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: Is
this
what
I
get in return for the checks
I
've sent your mother every Christmas day these past thirty years? Do you know what those checks have meant to her?

E
LIDA
: I'm sorry, Aunt Nellie.

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Snorting):
A “real” companion, indeed! So that's all you thought of the operas we've been to together, the books we've read aloud. And I was thinking, like an old fool, that I might have given you at least some inkling of the function of beauty in life, some conception of what—oh, what's the use?
(She breaks off, shaking her head.)

E
LIDA
: But you
have.
Really, you have.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: And now you want to bury yourself in Augusta, perhaps even marry a hotel proprietor the way your mother did?
(ELIDA says nothing.)
Well, go ahead, then! I'm not stopping you.

E
LIDA
(Quietly)
: I won't go if you disapprove, Aunt Nellie. I know all you've done for my family.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: All I've
done!
I'll have none of that, young lady. You'll pawn off no shabby gratitude on me. Either there's human love and affection or there's not, but gratitude, bah! I have no room for gratitude.
(Sound of the front doorbell)

M
RS
. H
ONE
: Caroline!
(Shifting into brogue, with the heavy humor of her kind of eccentric)
Oh, me trials and tribulations! Bring me some whiskey, child. I can't face
her
on a parched whistle.
(ALICE, an ancient maid, appears, crossing the hall in back, and a moment later CAROLINE HONE enters briskly. She is thin and chic, but the effect is spoiled by the angularity of her features and the arrogant condescension of her manner.)

C
AROLINE
: Elida,
I
wonder if you'd be a dear and get me a touch of whiskey on the rocks? I've had such a day, and tea wouldn't start to do the trick. Besides, I have a bone to pick with your aunt.
(Nods at MRS. HONE with a little smirk)
And that takes
something
.
(ELIDA moves to the sideboard to get and deliver the whiskey to CAROLINE and MRS. HONE during the following dialogue. CAROLINE crosses the room to sit by her mother-in-law, whom she addresses with the insulting cheerfulness of one speaking to a child.)
And how are we feeling, Mrs. Hone? All ready for the big outing tonight? Pretty spiky? Oh, I'll bet you are!

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Glaring at her)
: I'm never spiky, as you put it, Caroline. There are evenings such as tonight, when the prospect of beautiful music induces me, unwisely perhaps, to venture abroad.

C
AROLINE
(Taking off her gloves):
Unwisely, fiddlesticks. I'm sure it's the best thing in the world for you. But I didn't come here to discuss that, Mrs. Hone. That's a matter for your doctors, of whom Lord knows there are plenty. But there's another matter I'd like to take up with you, if you don't mind. A slightly more serious one.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: Bless me! Shall the old be listened to?

C
AROLINE
(In a clear, sarcastic tone that nonetheless betrays nervousness):
I want to find out, Mrs. Hone, whether you, like myself, have had any reason to suspect that Alexander has recently been finding the company of some other woman more attractive than mine.

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Staring):
Some
other
woman?

C
AROLINE
(Sourly sweet):
By which
I
am not, of course, referring to yourself, whose company, I well know, he prefers to all others.

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Angry):
He's a good son, Caroline. A faithful son. Are you going to make
that
a fault now?

C
AROLINE
: Hardly. That's a battle I lost years ago. No, I'm referring to a possible girlfriend. A rival of both of ours, if you care to put it that way.

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Her jaw forward, still glaring at CAROLINE):
I
don't care to put it any way, Caroline. Must you discuss such things before this child here?

C
AROLINE
(Throwing ELIDA, who is handing CAROLINE her drinks, a brief glance):
Oh, Elida. She knows all our secrets. Don't you, Elida? I'd like to have her opinion, too.
(ELIDA glances around nervously and walks over to the bookcase.)

M
RS
. H
ONE
: I should think you'd be ashamed to have others know!

C
AROLINE
: Ashamed? Me? And what about your precious Alexander?

M
RS
. H
ONE
(
Picking up the piece of ivory, again in her dreamy tone
): I was showing this to Elida. Before you came in. It's from the tusk of a mammoth. Early Paleolithic. That's something you haven't guessed about us Hones, Caroline. For all your shrewdness.

C
AROLINE
: There's very little I haven't guessed about Alexander. What is it that I haven't guessed about the Hones?

M
RS
. H
ONE
: That we're Paleolithics.

C
AROLINE
: You're
what? (Irritated, as she takes it in as only another manifestation of Mrs. Hone's heavy eccentricity)
Oh. Well, I'm glad I don't have to depend on Alexander's hunting, if that's what you mean.

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Loftily)
: Alexander and I were never ones to love our fetters. If he has put aside his slingshot and is visiting the priestess of a neighboring village, is it up to his old mother, whose love of freedom he inherits, to give him away? Don't worry, Caroline. Alexander will always return to his cave.

C
AROLINE
(Bleakly)
: Well, when he does, he'll find that I haven't put aside
my
slingshot. Or my small stone hatchet.

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Moving to the offensive)
: Why do you suspect my boy? What are your grounds?

C
AROLINE
(Coolly)
: My grounds, as you might imagine in such a case, are utterly inadequate. For instance, this summer, when I was away at the Cape with the children, I heard that he was seen dining at a restaurant in the city, in a corner, with a dark-haired girl who kept turning her face away from the room.
(ELIDA suddenly looks around in consternation. She turns quickly back to the bookshelves.)
And the other day when I was going through the pockets of a suit of his that I was sending to the cleaner's I found two used ticket stubs for the Lincoln Theatre. That's where
The Ballad Girl
is playing. I told him that night that I wanted to see it and asked him if by any chance he'd been. He said no.
(After a pause, significantly)
He said he was dying to.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: You call that evidence?

E
LIDA
: A very little goes a long way with a man as stuffy as Alexander.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: He couldn't have forgotten going to a musical comedy?

C
AROLINE
: Hardly. When he was still
dying
to see it.

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Sternly):
It could be that he doesn't find his own cave as enticing as it might be. It
could
be that he's not the only one at fault.

C
AROLINE
: Oh, of course. Anyone but your darling boy!

M
RS
. H
ONE
: Look into your own heart, Caroline. Search there.

C
AROLINE
(Exploding): My
heart! How can you defend him, Mrs. Hone? Of course, if you think keeping some little slut in a love nest, presumably with
my
money, is Paleolithic, I don't suppose there's any point in our discussing it. To me it's disgusting.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: You may think me an immoral old woman, Caroline, because I don't go around calling everything I see disgusting. There's nothing disgusting under the sky. There are only things that are beautiful.
(Meaningfully)
And things that are
not
beautiful.

C
AROLINE
: I wonder if you would have taken an attitude quite so philosophic while Mr. Hone was alive. Was he in the habit of paying visits to priestesses in neighboring villages?

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Shocked):
Caroline! De mortuis!

C
AROLINE
: Oh.
I
beg your pardon. That,
I
take it, was one of the things that was
not
beautiful.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: When
I
had trouble
I
handled it myself.
I
didn't go about the town advertising my shame.

C
AROLINE
(Getting up):
I take it from that that there
is
some shame to advertise. In your opinion, anyway. Who is this girl, Mrs. Hone?

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Closing her eyes and shaking her head):
I
see nothing. I hear nothing.

C
AROLINE
: Is it someone I know?

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Her eyes still closed):
I
hear nothing.
I
see nothing.

C
AROLINE
(Grim):
Well, at least we know where we stand. And at least I've found out there
is
someone. We're dining with you tonight, I believe?
(MRS. HONE simply nods.)
And then to the opera? What is it to be?

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Murmuring): Tristan.

C
AROLINE
(Smiling ironically):
How appropriate. Till then.
(Exit CAROLINE door C.)

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Reaching her hand out toward ELIDA):
Give me a hand, dear. I want to go to my room.
(With ELIDA's assistance MRS. HONE struggles to her feet.)
Whew! That girl's visits are always bad news, but this one has laid me flat. I'll need more than my usual nap this evening, Elida. You can bring me another nip of Scotch. To warm my blood.
(Raising her hand suddenly to her brow)
And she's coming for dinner, too! Oh, me trials and tribulations!

E
LIDA
(Anxiously)
: You didn't believe what she said, Aunt Nellie? It couldn't be true, could it?

M
RS
.
H
ONE
(Giving her a sidelong look)
: How should I know? She doesn't know
who,
if that's what you're worried about. She hasn't even a suspicion. Your old aunt was a lady from start to finish. Don't you think?

E
LIDA
(Staring):
Do
you
know, Aunt Nellie?

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Mimicking her):
Do
I
know, Aunt Nellie? What do you suppose, my little innocent? Do you think having eyes, I see not? Of course, I know. I know that me pride and joy, the only issue, shall we put it, of this old body, has left the straight and narrow at the behest of a certain young lady. And vicee-versee.

E
LIDA
(Aghast):
And who is this certain young lady, Aunt Nellie?

M
RS
. H
ONE
(With a mocking air of astonishment):
Who indeed? Who, I wonder? Oh, Caroline doesn't know, I grant you. But then, she's stupid. She can't see what's under her nose. And I won't tell her, either. Never fear. But
I
know. And you know, too, you foxy creature. Who's the little baggage that's been waiting so shamelessly in the front hall to tempt my virtuous boy whenever he comes to call on his old sick mother? Who's that, I'd like to know?

E
LIDA
(Her hands on her cheeks):
Aunt Nellie! It's not true!

M
RS
. H
ONE
: Pish, tush.

E
LIDA
(Wildly):
It's not true! It's not!

M
RS
. H
ONE
(Snorting):
Neither do I have pains in my joints. Neither is
Tristan
a beautiful opera.

E
LIDA
: But we're
cousins
, Aunt Nellie. Alexander has never been anything more than kind and considerate to me.

M
RS
. H
ONE
: Do you keep pictures of
all
your cousins on your dressing table?

E
LIDA
(Appalled):
Aunt Nellie! You were in my room!

M
RS
. H
ONE
: Certainly
I
was in your room. Aren't you my business, child?