A Family and a Fortune (16 page)

‘But if we leave it out,' said Dudley, ‘people will think it is so much more than it is.'

‘1 think it is better than that,' said Maria. ‘It will not eliminate planning and contrivance from your life, and it will keep you in the world you know.'

‘Sound wisdom,' said Justine. ‘Flow it falls from unexpected lips!'

‘I feel very comforted,' said Dudley. ‘People may realize my true position after all.'

‘It was deep sagacity, Miss Sloane,' said Justine. ‘I daresay you hardly realize how deep. Words of wisdom seem to fall from your lips like raindrops off a flower.'

‘Justine dear, was that a little frank?' said Blanche, lowering her voice.

‘Well, Mother, pretty speeches always are,' said Justine, not doing this with hers. ‘But I don't think that a genuine impulse towards a compliment is such a bad thing. It might really come to us oftener. And Miss Sloane is not in the least embarrassed. It is not a feeling possible to her. I had discerned that, or I had not taken the risk.'

‘The impulse has come to Justine again,' said Mark to his brother.

‘And embarrassment is a feeling possible to the rest of us.'

‘Well, I have not been saying words of wisdom, perhaps,' said Matty, in a tone that drew general attention. ‘But I have done my best to show my joy in others' good fortune. Though ‘others' is hardly the word for people with whom I feel myself identified. Contrivance had not struck me as one of the likely results, but if they like to enjoy the poverty of the rich, we will not say them nay. It is only the poverty of the poor which we should not welcome for them. We have that enough in our thoughts.' Matty's voice died away on a sigh which was somehow a thrust.

‘I shall have to give to the poor,' said Dudley. ‘It is a thing I have never done. It shows how nearly I have been one of them. I have only just escaped being always in Matty's mind.'

‘A dangerous place to be,' said Mark.

‘I suppose I shall subscribe to hospitals. That is how people seem to give to the poor. I suppose the poor are always sick. They would be, if you think. I once went round the cottages with Edgar, and I was too sensitive to go a second time. Yes, I was too sensitive even to set my eyes on the things which other people actually suffered, and I maintain that that was very sensitive. Now I shall improve things out of recognition, and then I can go again and not recognize anything, and feel no guilt about my inheritance.'

‘No one can help being left money,' said Miss Griffin.

‘That is not on any point,' said Matty lightly.

‘I don't know, Aunt Matty; I don't think I agree with you,' said Justine. ‘But I have disagreed with you enough; I will not say it.'

‘Well, it may be as well not to let it become a habit, dear.'

‘Justine dear, come and sit by me,' said Blanche.

‘Oh, you mean to be repressive, Mother. But I feel quite irrepressible this morning. Uncle's good fortune sets my heart singing even more than yours or Father's would. Because he has been the one rather to miss things himself and to see them pass to other people, and to see it in all goodwill. And that is so rare that it merits a rare compensation. And that the compensation should come, is the rarest thing of all. “My heart is like a singing bird, whose nest is in a water'd shoot”.'

‘Are we all going to stay in the whole morning?' said Blanche. ‘Justine, it is not like you to be without energy.'

‘Surely an unjust implication,' said Mark.

‘Well, we can hardly bring Miss Sloane and Miss Griffin up here, Mother, and then escort them out again at once.'

‘They might like to join us in a walk round the park. I sleep so much better if I get some exercise, and I expect we shall sit and talk after luncheon.'

‘An indulgence which can be expiated in advance by half an hour in a drizzle,' said Clement.

‘Well, what do you feel, Miss Sloane?' said Justine.

‘I should like to go with your mother.'

‘And you Miss Griffin?'

Miss Griffin opened her mouth and glanced at the fire and at Matty.

‘Miss Griffin prefers the hearth. And I don't wonder, considering the short intervals which she probably spends at it. So you set off with Miss Sloane, Mother, and the rest of us will remain in contented sloth. I believe that is how you see the matter.'

Blanche began to roll up her silks without making much progress. Justine took them from her, wound them rapidly round her hand, thrust them into the basket, and propelled her mother to the door with a hand on her waist. Maria followed without assistance, and Blanche shook herself free without any change of expression and also proceeded alone. Matty at once addressed the group as if to forestall any other speaker.

‘Now I must tell you of something which happened to me when I was young, something which this occasion in your lives brings back to me. I too might have been left a fortune. When we are young, things are active or would be if we let them, or so it was in my youth. Well, a man was in love with me or said he was; and I could see it for myself, so I cannot leave it out; and I refused him - well, we won't dwell on that; and when we got that behind, he wanted to leave me all he had. And I would not let him, and we came to words, as you would say, and the end of it was that we did not meet again. And a few days afterwards he was thrown from his horse and killed. And the money went to his family, and I was glad that it should be so, as I had given him nothing and I could not take and not give. But what do you say to that, as a narrow escape from a fortune? I came almost as near to it as your uncle.'

‘Was that a large fortune too?' said Miss Griffin.

‘It was large enough to call one. That is all that matters for the story.'

‘You ran very near the wind, Aunt Matty,' said Justine. ‘And you came out well.'

‘I shall be obliged to take and not give, if no one will accept anything from me,' said Dudley. ‘Because I am going to take. Indeed I have taken.'

‘You have not been given the choice,' said Miss Griffin.

‘Well, well, we all have that,' said Matty. ‘But there is not always reason for using it. There is no obligation to seek out connexions when there is no immediate family. This friend of mine had brothers.'

‘I wish you would not put such thoughts into words,' said Dudley.

‘I can't help wishing that he had not had them, Aunt Matty,' said Justine. ‘You might have had a happier life or an easier one.'

‘An easier later chapter, dear, but I do not regret it. We cannot do more than live up to the best that is in us. I feel I did that, and I must find it enough.' Matty's tone had a note of truth which no one credited.

‘I find it so too,' said Dudley. ‘My best is to accept two thousand a year. It is enough, but I do wish that people would not think it is more.'

‘Two thousand a year!' said Miss Griffin.

‘Well, it is between a good many,' said Matty. ‘It is so good when a family is one with itself. And you are all going to find it so.'

‘To accept needs the truest generosity,' said Dudley. ‘And I am not sure that they have it. I know that people always underrate their families, but I suspect that they only have the other kind.'

‘It is that kind which is the first requirement,' said Clement.

‘Clement, that remark might be misunderstood,' said Justine.

‘Or understood,' said Mark.

‘I don't think I should find any difficulty in accepting something I needed, from someone I loved. But I am such a fortunate person; I always have all I need.'

‘There, what did i say?' said Dudley An utter lack of true generosity.'

‘I will go further,' said his niece. I will accept an insurance of the future of my little Aubrey. Accept it in my name and in that of Father and Mother, I think I am justified in going so far.'

‘It is all very well to laugh, Clement,' said Dudley, ‘but how will you look when it appears that your brothers have true generosity, and you have none?'

‘I can do as they do and without having it. It seems to me to be the opposite thing that is needed.'

‘Clement, be careful!' said Justine, in an almost stricken tone.

‘People are always ashamed of their best qualities and describe them in the wrong way,' said Dudley. ‘Clement will accept an allowance from me and let me forget that my generosity is less than his.'

‘Then he is a dear, sensible boy,' said Matty.

‘Sensible certainly,' said her nephew.

‘Well, Clement, I don't know what to say,' said Justine.

‘You can say what you will say to Mark and Aubrey.'

‘Well, I suppose that is fair in a way, but it does seem that there is a difference. But I will say nothing. The matter is taken out of my hands.'

‘It was never in them.'

‘Now don't take that line with your sister. That does not make matters better.'

‘I have no wish to improve them. I find them well enough.'

‘I am afraid you do, Clement.'

‘Now that is not sensible, dear, and perhaps not even quite kind,' said Matty.

‘It seems fair that all three brothers should have something, if two have,' said Miss Griffin.

‘Well, it is really a matter for the family.'

‘Aunt Matty, don't snub Miss Griffin in public like that,' said Justine. ‘That is certainly not quite kind.'

‘My dear, you may have a way of coming between
people, but between Miss Griffin and me there is our own relation.'

‘I am afraid there is, Aunt Matty.'

There was a long silence.

‘Dear, dear, money, money, money!' said Justine, leaning back and locking her hands above her head. ‘Directly it comes in, away fly dignity, decency, everything.'

‘Everything but true generosity,' said Mark.

‘Dignity and decency depend up to a point on money,' said Clement.

‘Indeed that is true,' said Dudley. ‘You have only to go round the cottages. It seems absurd to say that money is sordid, when you see the things that really are.'

‘And that come from the lack of it.'

‘Why should it be sordid any more than any other useful thing?' said Matty.

‘They say that it is a curse,' said Dudley, ‘but I do not find it so. I like being a person to confer benefits. There, that is the worst.'

‘Dear Uncle!' said Justine. ‘Enjoy your money and your generosity and all of it. You have never had a chance before.'

‘So you don't think that the things I gave were more valuable than money. I knew that people never really did.'

‘To talk about money's having no value is a contradiction in terms,' said Clement.

‘Now I think that is honest, dear,' said Matty.

‘Aunt Matty, you are going rather far in your implications,' said Justine.

‘You do not go in for such things, dear, I know.'

Justine put back her head in mirth, the action so familiar in her aunt somehow throwing up her unlikeness to her.

‘That may be fair, but we won't start, another skirmish. And I don't take it at all as an insult, however it was meant. I am one for the direct and open line. Now here are the other elders, come in the nick of time to prevent our discussion from becoming acrimonious.'

‘They are running it fine,' said Clement.

‘Well, have you made up your minds how to spend your uncle's money?' said Oliver.

‘Yes, we have,' said Clement, pausing a moment to get the plan of his speech. ‘The house is to be put in repair for Father and Mark; there is to be an allowance for me; and something is to be done for Aubrey's future.'

‘Oh!' said Blanche. ‘Oh, it is too quick. I did not think it would all be arranged at once like that.'

‘Would it be better for being delayed?'

‘I don't know what to say. It does not seem right somehow. I really feel almost ashamed.'

‘To tell you the truth, Mother, so do I,' said Justine. ‘But I could not help it. I plead guilty to the suggestion about Aubrey's future, but otherwise I can hold myself apart.'

‘As a benefited person, I feel that my tongue is tied,' said Edgar. ‘The mention of me was adroit.'

‘It was simply true,' said Clement.

‘Dudley, I don't know what to say,' said Blanche. ‘What can you think of them all?'

‘I feel that we are drawn closer. They will not spoil things for me by letting me feel alone. I don't think Clement and I have ever been so close before, and I expect them to share my joy, and people ought not to share a feeling without sharing the cause of it. I should not think it is possible. And I should be ashamed of feeling joy over a thing like money, if no one felt it with me.'

‘There is something in that, I suppose,' said Justine.

‘Well, it is nearly time for luncheon,' said her mother. ‘I suppose I must not say any more. We have had such a nice walk. I feel all the better for it and Miss Sloane has quite a colour. It was so kind of her to come with me. Father, did you get your sleep?'

‘I slept like a child, my dear, as is well for a person approaching his second childhood.'

‘That is not the speech of someone doing that, Grandpa,' said Mark.

‘Father, what a way to talk! Well, I must go and take off my things. Perhaps Miss Sloane would like to come
with me. And then we should open these windows. You have all been in here all the morning.'

‘With all our selfish hopes and desires,' said Clement. ‘But I wonder that Justine has not been like a breath of fresh air in herself.'

‘I expect she has,' said Blanche, patting her daughter's cheek.

‘I have certainly been a breath of something, Mother, but I believe it has been felt to be more like a draught. But it may have been fresh and wholesome.'

‘We did not talk about the good fortune all the time,' said Matty. ‘We had our glimpse of other things. I gave them an early experience of my own, which amused them with its likeness to this one. Its likeness and its difference, shall we say? Well, what do you think of your aunt's varied history? I see you are not to be allowed to dwell on it. Your mother is directing our attention to more material things.'