Read A Family and a Fortune Online
Authors: Ivy Compton-Burnett
âMiss Griffin will have a dress too,' said Dudley. âShe does not grudge me my inheritance any more than anyone else.'
âIndeed I do not. Indeed I will, if it is to prove that,' said Miss Griffin, flushed and conscious and cordial.
Matty gave her a friendly smile.
âWill Miss Sloane be allowed to escape?' said Mark.
âShall we have Grandpa decked out for the occasion?' said Clement.
âMiss Sloane, it may be asking too much of you,' said Justine. âBut if it is not, you will give my uncle the privilege? It will be accepted as such.'
âI think I will ask to have my congratulations accepted without any proof of them.'
âAnd being denied does not form a large part of your experience? You will not be in this case. We should not dare to attempt it.'
âWe must not ask Maria to become one of us quite so soon,' said Matty.
âI have seldom felt so much one of a family.'
âNever at a loss for a graceful response!' said Justine, turning aside and sighing. âI wonder what it feels like.'
âMiss Sloane turned her whole mind on my affairs,' said Dudley. âI have never seen anyone do that for anyone else before.'
âNo, Uncle, you have rather been the one to do it for people yourself. But I daresay it has brought its own reward.'
âIt has,' said Mark.
âDid you hear my mean little speech?' said Dudley to Maria. âI believe I think that I ought to be taken more seriously because I have money. Well, I suppose it had to make me deteriorate in some way.'
âYou are going to leave us, Blanche, my dear?' said Oliver. âYou and the other women. I should like to have my smoke and talk while I have the strength for them.'
âGrandpa is a privileged person, you observe, Miss Sloane,' said Justine. âThings are permitted in him which would not be in other people.'
âYou know it is only for a short time, child, and show me that you do.'
Aubrey rose with a glance at Clement and passed out of the door as if unconscious what he did. He disliked remaining with the men and facing his brothers' banter more than he disliked the status of a child. He sometimes wondered how he would fill any role but this.
âNow, Mr Penrose, off with you; out of our house,' said Justine. âYou do not want to be with us a moment longer, and we do not want you, will not attempt to detain you. So off to keep your holiday in your own way.'
âI am more than glad of the cause of it, Miss Gaveston.'
âSo am I,' said Dudley.
The five men settled at the table, Edgar and Dudley to talk to Oliver, and Mark and Clement by themselves. It was at this stage that the latter would have turned their attention to their brother. Dudley presently pointed to Oliver, who had fallen asleep.
âHere is my chance to say something else. Would it be right to give some money to Matty? Would she dislike me more for keeping it or giving it? Both are such disagreeable
things, and I must do one of them. No one can carry off either.'
âWe need not make a suggestion, said Clement. âWe have shown the course we prefer.'
âYou have tried to make me happy. But your aunt may not really desire my happiness. She may wish me to pay for it.'
âWell, you are proposing to do so.'
âI mean pay with discomfort.'
âShe would rather you paid for it with money.'
âSuch simplicity is seldom the whole truth,' said Edgar, without hesitation. âYour aunt has come on evil days, or days which she sees as such, and your uncle on good ones; and if she is struck by the difference it may not mean so much.'
âIt would make the difference less, if I gave her a little of the money and went without it myself. Or is it true that people want more, the more they have? Of course, she is not my real relation and others have a nearer claim. I am beginning to get the outlook of the rich. Do you hear me talk in their way? You would know how terrible it would be, if she wanted more, the more she had, if you had just inherited money.'
âIt would have to be a moderate, settled sum. It would be a pleasure to Blanche, Dudley. May I suggest - I will suggest an allowance of about two hundred a year.'
âThank you; that is real help. It is not too much or too little. I think that is the way rich people talk. Fancy saying that two hundred a year is not too little, when you have two thousand a year yourself!'
âThat is no longer true,' said Mark.
âYes, you won't have so much more left than you can do with,' said Oliver, raising his head. âWe shall all be busy relieving you of it. I find I am doing my part, and I do it willingly. Why shouldn't I have my last days made easy? They are my very last. And my daughter has had enough ill fortune to render it worth while to make it less. Thank you, my boy, you are a pleasant person to take it from, and I pay you a compliment.'
âOf course the generosity is yours. We have decided that.'
âNo, it is yours, which pleases me better and serves its purpose. Such a quality in me would serve none.'
âWhat are the other allowances?' said Edgar. âI am still in the dark. It does not do to be shy about these things, if we can take them.'
âWhat dreadful speeches reticent people make!' said Dudley. âI suppose it is want of practice.'
âThe lads are only like the rest of us,' said Oliver.
âWe do not know,' said Clement, something in his tone showing that he was in suspense.
âI thought three hundred a year for Clement, and two hundred for Mark, as he has an interest in the house. And a hundred for Justine, as she will not spend it on herself and I am mean to a woman and good works. And Aubrey's future to be provided for as it develops. And any bitterness to be at once considered and the cause rectified. Causes of bitterness are always so just. And the rest to be for myself, to dole out as I please and earn gratitude and be able to call the tune. How despicable it sounds, and how I do like it!'
âSo do we. Do not worry about our part,' said Oliver, rising to his feet. âI will tell my daughter and spare you the scene. And having got what I can get, I will take my leave. Do not come after me. I can walk to the next room, where the women will busy themselves.'
âI believe it was too little,' said Dudley. âUnless I have reached the stage of expecting extravagant thanks for the least thing. I hope that is what it is. Of course it is a mean sum. Two hundred a year is a tenth of two thousand, and it must be mean to offer anyone a tenth of what you have. It sounds as if I were keeping nine times as much for myself. I hope Matty will not hear before she goes. People don't resent having nothing nearly as much as too little. I have only just found that out. I am getting the knowledge of the rich as well as their ways. And of course anyone would resent being given a tenth.'
âI do not,' said Mark. âI have the opposite feeling.'
âI am overpowered,' said Clement.
âI must not forget to thank you for your true generosity.
Mine is the other kind and we begin to see what that is. Justine is to have a twentieth and she will appreciate it, which is true generosity indeed. I find myself actually looking forward to it, I am deteriorating so fast. There is her voice. The very sound of it ought to be a reproach.'
âWell, so the occasion is at an end; said the voice. âOr the moment has come when it would cease to be a success. We really are seeing something of each other. It is such a good thing when those things don't fail to materialize. There is always the touch of risk. It is a tribute to us all that the risk has not even hinted itself in this case. Miss Griffin and I have had a talk to ourselves. We settled down as two women and made the most of each other.'
âSo we take our leave after hours so full of happiness,' said Matty. âIt is a pleasant weariness that follows a long rejoicing for others. I only wish I could call it by some other name, that there was some different word for cramped limbs and aching head. But the happiness outweighs it, and that is all I ask.'
âHere is the carriage, dear,' said her sister. âYou won't have to take the walk a second time.'
âWell, I could not do that, dear. We cannot go beyond our strength. Up to it willingly but not beyond. I shall be so glad when you have a second carriage, and it should not be long now. It is a thing I have wanted for you. We get into the way of planning things for other people when we must not imagine them for ourselves. And it is a good and satisfying substitute. We can be grateful for it. The cushion into the carriage, Miss Griffin. It won't walk in by itself.'
âJellamy will take it,' said Justine, putting her arm in Miss Griffin's. âIt will be safely in its place.'
Edgar took the cushion and went to the carriage, and Miss Griffin stood within Justine's arm as if she would linger in its safety.
âCome, Uncle,' said Justine, âtear yourself away from Miss Sloane. She gives no sign of relief in her escape from us, and most heartily do we thank her. But the moment has come for her release.'
âMatty cannot know of my meanness,' said Dudley, looking
after the carriage. âShe could not show her view of it as openly as that.'
âDoes Mother know of all your other meanness?' said Mark.
âOh, I don't like to think of it,' said Blanche, when she had heard the truth. âI cannot bear to feel that you have all taken so much. I ought to blush for my family.'
âI don't think you need, Mother,' said Justine. âI should be more ashamed if I could not take Uncle's bounty openly and generously, as it is offered. It would show a smaller spirit. It is not for us to hold ourselves above the position of grateful people. We have to be able to accept. Anything else shows an unwillingness to grant someone else the superior place.'
âUncle must feel well established in that,' said Mark.
âI have done what I can to help him. I have been able to take more pocket money,' said Aubrey, kicking a rug with his eyes upon it.
âAubrey looks down to get the advantage of the ostrich,' said Clement.
âWhich is very real,' said his brother, instantly raising his eyes.
âOh, is that what you and Uncle have been talking about?' said Blanche. âI don't know what to think of you all. I feel that I did not know my children. I am glad I am taking nothing for myself.'
âWell, it is all for you in a way, Mother,' said Justine. âYou can't dissociate yourself from the benefits of your family.'
âPoor Mother, that is rather hard,' said Mark.
âNo, that is why I feel it as I do,' said Blanche to her daughter in a tone of simple rejoinder. âAnd Grandpa and Aunt Matty too! Well, I cannot do anything. Here is the carriage coming back. The coachman is bringing a letter.'
âFor Uncle from Aunt Matty,' said Justine, handing it to Dudley. âWe should not read the envelopes of letters, but this is an exceptional occasion.'
âWe can be sure that it will not repeat itself,' said Mark.
âIt would be very bad for us all,' said Blanche.
âI will read it aloud,' said Dudley, âand have the general protection. Suppose I have patronized Matty, or presumed on my connexion, or thought that money meant something to her. I have taken a foolish risk.'
âRead away, Uncle,' said his niece. âWe are all ranged on your side. But I shouldn't be surprised if Aunt Matty comes out well on this occasion.'
âIs it an extreme test?' said Clement.
My dear Dudley,
I cannot wait to give you my thanks and my father's for your thinking of us as part of my sister's family. We feel that we are related to you, and we can take from you what we would take from a son and a brother. And we thank you as much for being that to us, as for the help that sends us forward lighter of heart. And we rejoice with you in your joy.
Your affectionate and grateful
Matilda Seaton
âI did not know that I was as near to them as that, and I have not given in that measure. I have kept nine times as much for myself. That in a son and a brother does seem dreadful. Riches are a test of character and I am exposed. And Matty still thinks that I have joy in having money, instead of pleasure in giving and other decent feelings. She may know me better than I know myself. People do have a terrible knowledge of sons and brothers.'
âMrs Middleton is in the carriage,' said Aubrey.
âMy dears!' said Sarah, emerging on to the gravel with hands upraised. âWhat you must think of us! Your coachman picked us up as we were coming to hear your news. And I waited while you read your letter: I did not want to interrupt.' Sarah spoke the truth; she had wished to hear the end. âA quarter of a million of money! What a thing for you to face!'
âAnd to put to other purposes,' said Thomas, appearing in his turn and using a tone of kindliness and pleasure.
âIt is so good of you to be interested,' said Blanche. âIt
has been a great event for us all. We are still quite excited about it.'
Sarah met Blanche's eyes.
âPoor Mrs Middleton!' said Justine. âDo satisfy her curiosity.'
âYes, I want to hear, dear,' said Sarah, almost with pathos. âI want to know how it came about, before we talk of it.'
âMy godfather's lawyers wrote to say that my godfather had died and left me all he had,' said Dudley. âHe died a few days ago as a very old man. I am so glad that you would like to hear; I was afraid that people might be getting tired of the subject.'
âHe had no children, Mrs Middleton,' said Justine, in a benevolent tone. âIndeed he seems to have had no relations.'
âThen it was natural that he should leave his money to your uncle?' said Sarah, her face lighting at this clearance of her path.
âQuite,' said Dudley. âI have every right to it. But I did not know that he had any. I heard a few days ago and told my brother last night, and today we all discussed it at breakfast.'