A Family and a Fortune (15 page)

‘And the people who do not ask for things, are the people who have them, I have heard. You would not ask, I am sure. Yes, I must not be denied my little bit of excitement for you. It is the one kind I have left, to let my spirits soar
for other people, and I must be allowed to make the most of it. It is the best kind.'

‘I suppose it is, Aunt Matty. Anyhow it is nice of you to feel it,' said Justine, ‘but there doesn't really seem to be much need. I am with the boys there. We have our home and our happiness and each other, and the simple tastes and pleasures which are the most satisfying. We do not ask or need anything more. I am quite sorry for Uncle that it is so, because he would like nothing better than to pour out his all upon us. But our simple lot suffices us, and there it is.'

‘They are all so self-reliant,' said Blanche, with mingled apology and pride. ‘They have been brought up to be independent of things outside themselves.'

Matty gave her glance about the room, this time with an open smile.

‘Yes, I see what you are thinking,' said her niece at once. ‘We have been brought up in a beautiful and dignified home; that is the truth. I should be the last person to deny it. But it has become our background, and that means that we are independent of it in a way. Not that we do not love it; I do from the bottom of my heart. And that brings it to my mind that I should be glad for something to be done for the dear old house, to prevent its falling into decay. I have long wished that its faithful service could be repaid. It would be a relief to Father, who sees it as a life trust and not as his own in any personal sense, so that he would not really be taking anything for himself. And Mark feels about it in the same way. Yes, I think I may say that we should all be grateful for succour for the fine old walls which have sheltered us and our forebears.'

‘Well, there is one bright spot in the darkness,' said Matty to Dudley, changing her tone as she spoke. ‘I cannot but support my niece, though I must admit that my gratitude would have a personal quality.'

‘But the house has sheltered me and my forebears too,' said Dudley. ‘Perhaps it does not count.'

‘Well, well, it may count a little. And anyhow it will cost a little. That must be your comfort.'

‘What do you say, Father?' said Justine.

‘I must say what you do, my dear; I cannot but say it. It is a thing that your uncle and I could do together.'

‘Ah, that strikes the right note. That clinches the matter. You and Uncle can do it together. It stands that it will be done.'

‘Better and better,' said Matty to Dudley with a smile.

‘We can scarcely say that Father and Mark - that as a family we take nothing,' said Clement. ‘The house hardly belongs to Father the less, that it will go to his descendants.'

‘No, I do not feel that I can say it,' said Mark.

‘No, you will not shirk your part as a benefited and grateful person,' said Matty, in a tone of approval and sympathy.

‘That is hardly straight, Aunt Matty,' said Justine. ‘I wish you would not let these touches of unfairness creep into your talk. It gives to all our response that little undercurrent of defensiveness. We are not ungrateful because we want something beautiful preserved, which will be of advantage to future generations as well as ourselves, and because we realize that that is the case. You have admitted to the same feeling.'

‘I have it indeed, dear, but then I feel definitely grateful. It is a great thing in my life, this lovely background that I see behind you all, and feel behind myself at stated intervals. I should feel unthankful indeed if I did not appreciate it. And I ask your uncle to accept my gratitude for any service that he does to it.'

‘The east walls are crying for attention,' said Edgar, as if his thought broke out in spite of himself. ‘I have hardly dared to look at them, but they must be sinking. I can almost feel it; I know it must be the case. You and I might go round, Dudley, and sketch out a plan for the work. This - I find is one of the days of my life.'

Blanche looked up at her husband as if uncertain what she should feel.

‘There, Uncle!' said Justine. ‘I congratulate you. That is what you want. You have what you would ask.'

‘Better still,' said Matty to Dudley. ‘There is progress. I don't think you need fear.'

‘Justine dear, will you fetch my silks from my room?'

‘No, Mother, I can't be sent out of the room like that, even if I have been a little frank and definite and may be so again. You must know me by now, and if you want me you must take me as I am.'

‘And as we cannot do without her, she has us in a tight place,' said Matty, retrieving her position.

‘It is half past eleven,' said Blanche, relinquishing her work as if her thoughts had not returned to it. ‘Matty dear, would you like anything? Or would Father? It is surprising how the time goes.'

‘Well, I really don't think it is today,' said Justine. ‘I should not have been surprised to find ourselves at the last stroke.'

‘Well, dear, some coffee for me, and for Father a glass of wine and a sandwich,' said Matty, somehow implying that in the risen fortunes of the house such requirements would hardly count. ‘I hope you are going to join us.'

‘Yes, we will all have something; I think our nerves need it,' said Justine.

‘Are you feeling guilty?' said Matty, in a low, mischievous tone to Dudley.

‘Will Miss Seaton and Mr Seaton be staying to luncheon, ma'am?' said Jellamy.

‘Yes. You will be staying, won't you, Matty? Father won't find it too much? He can have his rest.'

‘We will quarter ourselves upon you,' said Oliver. ‘You will put up with what comes to you today. I take it that you wouldn't alter it.'

‘Yes, they will both be here for luncheon, Jellamy.'

‘And Miss Sloane and Miss Griffin, Jellamy,' said Justine, throwing a glance from her chair.

‘My dear, have you heard that?'

‘No, mother, I have just decided it. I think we need the effect of their presence.'

‘But are they free, dear child?'

‘Well, we can soon find out. If they are not, they cannot come, of course. But I fail to see what engagements they can have in a place where neither knows anyone.'

‘But Miss Sloane may not care to come, What does Aunt Matty say? Miss Sloane is her guest.'

‘Well, for that reason I should like to have her with me. It is a kind thought of Justine's. I was wondering if I could leave her alone, and how to send a message. But Miss Griffin finds it a change to be without us.' Matty's tone quickened and her eyes changed. ‘And I find certain relief in being only with my relations. So I will say what I mean in my family circle and feel it is said.'

‘You will be better apart, if I may still depend on my eyes and ears,' said her father. ‘I do not know what Maria makes of it all. I do not ask. She could not give a true answer and a false one would be no help. You forget the size of the house, though you talk of it.'

‘Well, I am not used to it yet.'

‘You would do well to become so.'

‘Let me have my own way, Aunt Matty,' said Justine, sitting on the arm of her aunt's chair. ‘Don't deny it to me because we have got a little cross. Give it to me all the more for that.'

‘Well, well, take it, dear. You know how I like you to have it.'

‘You have your own way a good deal, Justine,' said Blanche.

‘Oh, well, Mother, a mature woman, the only sister amongst three brothers. Father's only daughter! What can you expect?'

Edgar looked up as if to see how his own name had become involved.

‘Everyone must rejoice with me today,' said Dudley. ‘That always seems to me an absurd demand, but I am going to make it.'

‘And if there is anyone for selfless rejoicing for other people, Miss Griffin is that person, if I know her,' said his niece. ‘And I shouldn't be surprised if Miss Sloane has a touch of the same quality.'

‘Suppose we keep people apart, dear,' said Matty in a light tone.

‘Oh, Aunt Matty, Miss Sloane has not a touch of that feeling.
She would not mind being coupled with Miss Griffin. Even being with her once told me that. I should think it is not in her.'

‘But keep her apart, nevertheless, dear,' said Blanche, in a low voice that was at once reproving and confidential. ‘She has nothing to do with anyone else.'

‘I am not sure that she would say that,' said Justine audibly. ‘She has the connexion with Miss Griffin of a long friendship. I should say that she would be the first to recognize it.'

‘Well, well, dear, are you going to run down and ask them?'

‘No, no, not I this time,' said Justine, shaking her head. ‘I am not always going to present myself as the bearer of such messages. It would mean that we thought too much of them altogether.'

‘Clement and I will go,' said Mark. ‘That will give a trivial air to the errand. And we can imply that we think little of it.'

‘That should be easy,' said his brother. ‘We have only to be natural.'

‘Ah, that is not always so easy as you seem to think,' said Justine.

‘Perhaps you find it too much so.'

‘Well, run along, dears,' said Blanche, in a neutral manner. ‘You can wait and bring them back.'

‘If they consent to come, Mother,' said Justine, with a note of reproof.

‘Well, you thought they had no other engagements, dear. Let the boys go now. It will be a breath of fresh air for them after their exciting morning. We can't have nothing but excitement.'

‘Do you know where to look?' said Matty to Dudley, in a mischievous aside.

‘Mother talks as if we were guilty of some excess,' said Clement to his brother as they left the house. ‘Our excitement has been for Uncle. Nothing has come to most of us.'

‘A good deal has come to Father, and in a certain sense to me.'

‘A good deal to you both. A house handed on intact is different indeed from one gaping at every seam, and sucking up an income to keep it over our heads. You are full of a great and solemn joy.'

‘And my happiness is not yours?'

‘Any satisfaction of mine must come out of my own life, not out of other people's. But I ought to have some of my own. Father's money will be set free and Uncle has no one to spend on but us.'

‘What are your personal hopes?'

‘Much as yours, except that they are on a smaller scale and yours are already fulfilled. I don't want a place or could not have one. But I do want a little house of my own in Cambridge. I hate the college and I am obliged to live in the town. And a little income to add to what I earn. Then I should not need to spend my spare time at home. I cannot suffer much more of Aubrey and Justine.'

‘And I can?'

‘Your prospects are safe. You have no right to speak.'

‘I shall have nothing until Father dies, but the life which you must escape.'

‘Your future is bound up in the place. Mine has nothing to do with it. The house is a halting place for me.'

‘And for Justine and Aubrey what is it?'

‘Aubrey is a child and Justine is a woman. There is no comparison.'

‘Aubrey will not always be a child and Justine not always a young and dependent woman. I can imagine her in her own house as well as you.'

‘Mine is the need of the moment.'

‘So is mine. I could do with many things. But I don't know if we can make the suggestions to Uncle.'

‘They may occur to him.'

‘Images will have to come crowding on his mind.'

‘I don't see why they should not. He must have seen our straitened life.'

‘He must have lived it,' said Mark.

‘You can make a joke of other people's needs, when your own are satisfied. He can hardly go on for ever, spending
all he has on the house. All sorts of demands must arise. We have been held very tight and insensibly the bonds will be loosened.'

‘When Father dies, you will have your share of what there is. Both he and Uncle must leave what they have to us.'

‘And how long will that be to wait?'

‘Clement, what manner of man are you?'

‘The same as you, though you pretend not to know it. You can go in here and offer this invitation. Explain that we observe a piece of good fortune for one of us as a general festival.'

‘I am in command of such a situation. You are right to imply that you are not.'

‘There is Miss Griffin at the window. She is there whenever we come.'

‘She sees the shadows of coming events. Such a gift would develop in her life.'

In due course the four emerged from the lodge and set off towards the house. Mark was ready to discuss the event; Clement was inclined to glance at Maria to judge of her view of it, and to try to talk of other things; Maria was lively and interested and Miss Griffin was alternately reflective and disposed to put sudden questions.

‘Here is a fairy-tale piece of news!' said Maria, as she met the family. ‘I shall always be glad to have heard it at first hand. We must thank you for our experience as well as congratulate you on yours.'

‘Thank you, Miss Sloane. That is a pleasant congratulation indeed,' said Justine, turning to her brothers to continue. ‘What a contrast to poor Aunt Matty's! What a difference our little inner differences make!'

‘A quarter of a million pounds!' said Miss Griffin, standing in the middle of the floor. ‘I have never heard anything like it.'

‘Neither have I,' said Dudley. ‘It is about a twentieth of a million.'

‘A twentieth of a million!' said Miss Griffin, in exactly the same tone.

‘About fifty thousand pounds.'

‘Fifty thousand pounds!' said Miss Griffin, with the fuller feeling of complete grasp.

‘We ought not to keep talking about the amount,' said Blanche. ‘We value the thought and the remembrance.'