A Family and a Fortune (25 page)

Read A Family and a Fortune Online

Authors: Ivy Compton-Burnett

Three weeks later Aubrey came to the others.

‘I saw Father and Miss Sloane saying good-bye.'

‘Did you?' said his sister. ‘Well, that was not much of an event. They must meet and part every day.'

‘Do people - do men kiss the women their brothers are going to marry?'

‘Oh, that is what you saw? So that is what it has come to. Well, I am glad it has. They can carry that off, being the people they are. I don't know whether it is conventional between brothers and sisters-in-law, but that does not matter with these two. No doubt they felt that. They must know themselves as they are.'

‘Father will miss Miss Sloane when Uncle marries,' said Clement.

‘And shall we not all miss several people? A great part of
our life will be a blank. This is something to be a help to him until the break comes. It is sad that we should think in that way of the consummation of Uncle's life, but we can hardly help it. I question indeed whether I have been wise in throwing Father and Maria so much together. I meant it for the best; God knows I did; but it will be something else to be relinquished. And I have been so glad to see him brighter and hear the old spring in his step. Well, we will not anticipate trouble. It will be on us soon enough.'

‘He must be better for being helped through the first stage. When that is over, he will have himself in hand and can look to his future. Fie must be used to his loss, before he is master of his own life.'

‘And people get used to anything,' said Mark. ‘Even if he never gets over it, he must get used to it.'

‘He will get over it,' said Justine. ‘To be honest, we know he will. His feeling for Mother was sound and true, but it was not that, not the kind to live by itself when its object was gone. You do not misunderstand me?'

They did not, and she stroked Aubrey's hand to help him over this initiation into the life of truth.

‘We are all leaving our loss behind,' said Clement. ‘And it is better for us and for other people, the sooner it is done.'

‘I hope it does not mean that our little mother is drifting away,' said Justine, frowning as she tried to think of another meaning. ‘But what dear, good boys you are in these days! You will not leave your sister alone at the helm. It is only Father whose future troubles me. He does seem to be separated by a wide gulf. Mark and I hoped that we could bridge it, but we found our mistake. That is why I am glad if Maria can get even a little way towards the self which is hidden. Somehow he seems to want to keep it so. Somehow I feel that there is a higher barrier between us than there was. There is something which I can't put into words about it.'

‘Does Father like Miss Sloane better than Mother?' said Aubrey.

‘Now, little boy, you know better than to ask such questions.
It is not worth while to answer them. But Father's life is not my affair, if he does not wish it to be. It was presumptuous to feel that I could in any way take Mother's place. I am content that Maria should do so to any extent that she can. The trouble is that it cannot be for long.'

‘Then Father likes Miss Sloane better than you, Justine.'

‘Oh, come, I am Father's only daughter, since Mother died the only woman in his family. You will know better when you are older, what that means. He may not want to mix up other relations with it. He has a right to have it by itself, simple and intact, if he wishes.'

‘Uncle is coming back tomorrow,' said Clement.

‘And Father's life will be full for the time. And we will not look further.'

‘Uncle has written to Miss Sloane every day,' said Aubrey. ‘I saw the pile of letters on Aunt Matty's desk.'

‘Really, little boy, I don't know what to say to that. I hope they remained in a pile; I am sure they did; but even then I don't know what has become of my training.'

‘I don't think she writes to him as often,' said Mark. ‘I took their letters to the post one day, and there was not one from her to him.'

‘My dear boys, what has come to you? I suppose you must have your little curiosities, but this goes too far. People must have their private lives and you must leave them. In some ways convention is a good thing. Mark, you are too old not to be quite certain about it.'

‘It is a wonder that the young are not worse than they are, when everything is condoned in them,' said Clement. ‘We do all we can to prevent their improvement.'

‘Do you think Clement is softened lately, Justine?' said Aubrey.

‘He has been more at home,' said Mark. ‘I hoped, Justine, that our combined influence might do something for him. And I am not wholly disappointed.'

‘Don't talk nonsense. It will only end in a quarrel. And one thing I want to say. When Uncle comes back and meets Miss Sloane, don't all stand round in a circle, gaping at them. Let them have their moment.'

‘I do not remember grouping ourselves in that manner or with that self-indulgence. It was not a conscious effect.'

‘Well, you know what I mean. Anyhow you all seem to know a good deal. Talk about the curiosity of women! I seem to have much the least. Keep away and allow them their first hour. I expect even Father will do that. And it will be more to him, a foretaste of the time when he will be deserted. For that is what I fear he will feel in spite of his children. Dear, dear, I hardly dare to look at the future.'

Edgar did not do as his daughter foretold. He met his brother, standing at Maria's side, and shook hands with his eyes on his face, as if he felt it was his duty to meet his eyes. Dudley took a step towards them, but stopped short, warned by some instinct that things were not as they had been. He drew back and waited for them to speak, feeling with his natural swiftness that this imposed on them the most demand and gave him the fullest chance. Maria's letters came to him, and he saw in a flash that this was not how she wrote. He waited to hear that she wanted release and had enlisted his brother's support. What he heard was always to return to his mind, each word sharp and heavy with all its meaning.

‘Dudley, I must say what I must. Everything comes from me. You must hear it from my lips. Maria wishes to be released from you and has consented to marry me. We would not continue in a lie to you for a day. I cannot ask you to wish us happiness, but I can hardly believe, with my knowledge of you, that you will not wish it. And I can say that I wished it to you, when it seemed that things were to be with me as they are with you.'

Dudley looked at his brother with motionless eyes, and in an instant recovered himself and met the moment, seeming to himself to act a part over unrealized feeling.

‘So I am to be a hero. Well, it will suit me better than it would most people, much better than you, Edgar. I see how unheroic you are. And I return to my life of living for others. I don't think that they have really liked my doing anything else. And I see that it is nicer for them. And I
shall keep you both instead of giving up one for the other. I expect that is what you have been saying, it sounds an improvement, but I shall not let you think it is. I must have some revenge for being put in this position. I shall look so foolish, standing aside in simple renunciation.'

‘You will indeed keep us both,' said Edgar, in so low a voice that he seemed to feel it unfitting that he should speak.

‘I ought to have thought of this myself. It would have come better from me. It does not come at all well from you, Edgar. I wish I could have the credit of suggesting it. I suppose I can't have it? We can't pretend that it did come from me?'

‘It did in a way, Dudley. You gave us so full a share of each other.'

Dudley recoiled but in a moment went on.

‘And you have both taken a larger share than I meant. That is the worst of kindness; people take advantage of it. You really have done so. It will give me a great hold on you both.'

His words, and his voice more than his words, laid a spell on his hearers and kept them still. Maria did not speak. She had nothing to say, nothing to add to what Edgar had said. Dudley looked at her, aloof and silent, and over his tumult of feeling continued to speak. He felt that he must get through the minutes, get them behind, that he must meet his brother's children and break the truth, before he went away alone to face the years. He could not face them with anything more upon him.

‘I will go and tell Justine and the boys that I am to remain in their home. I suppose you do not wish me to leave it? You don't feel as guilty before me as that. They will betray their pleasure at the news, and I suppose that will be balm to my sore heart. I may be fortunate that I have never needed any balm before. They would rather have me than you, Edgar. I suppose I have really been the only father they have known. It is a good thing that you have not to face this ordeal. You would be quite unequal to it. You have been very awkward in this last scene. I see what people mean when they say that I am the better of the two.'

‘So do I, Dudley.'

Dudley left them with a light step and they still stood apart. But as he paused to get his grasp on himself, he saw them move to each other and lift their eyes. Their ordeal was over: his had begun.

He paused at the door of the upper room and listened to the sound of voices. Justine and Aubrey and Mark were playing a game. Clement was standing on the hearth, as he had stood while the scene went on below. Dudley had not thought to dread this moment as much as he dreaded it. It had seemed that his main feeling must drown any other, and a thought just came that he could not be suffering to the last. He stood just inside the door and said the words which he felt would be his.

‘I bring you a piece of good news. You are not going to lose me. I am to remain the light of your home. You thought that my gain was to be your loss, but I am not going to have the gain. It seemed impossible that I should be going to marry, and it is impossible.'

‘What do you mean, Uncle?' said Justine. ‘Have you changed your mind?'

‘No, I am better than that. I have been rejected in favour of my brother and I have risen above it. I am the same person, better and finer. The last little bit of self has gone. It was rather a large piece at our last interview, but that does not matter, now it has gone.'

‘Tell us what you mean,' said Mark.

‘I don't think I can be expected to say plainly that Maria has given me up and is going to marry your father. Surely you can save me from the actual words. I shall soon have said them. Surely you have taken the hint.'

‘It is really true, Uncle?'

‘Yes, you have taken it,' said Dudley, sinking into a chair as if in relief.

‘We are to accept this as definite and acknowledged? It affects us as well as you.'

‘It does, doesn't it? I had not thought of that. I am glad that you are to share the embarrassment. A burden is halved if it is shared, though it almost seems that it would
be doubled. And you must be very uncomfortable. It is very soon for your father to want to marry.'

‘But Father can't marry Miss Sloane,' said Aubrey. ‘He is married to Mother.'

‘No, dear,' said Justine, in a low tone. ‘Mother is dead.'

‘But she would not like him to have another wife.' ‘We do not know, dear, Hush. Mother might understand.' ‘So that is what it has meant,' said Mark, ‘their being so much together.'

‘Is that what it was', said Aubrey, ‘when I saw them -'

Justine put her hand on his to enforce his silence. ‘Yes,' said Dudley, ‘all of it was that. It is bad enough to bring out the best in me, and it has had to be the very best. And your position is not so good. Your father is losing no time in filling your mother's place. I must make one mean speech; I can't be the only person to suffer discomfiture. But of course you see no reason why I should suffer it, and of course I see that your mother would have wished this to happen, and that your father is simply fulfilling her wish.'

‘We cannot but rejoice that we are to keep you, Uncle,' said Mark.

‘Yes, we must feel that for ourselves,' said Justine. Clement and Aubrey did not speak.

‘I don't wonder that you are ill at ease. And I must embarrass you further and tell you that you will have your money back again. I want you to feel some awkwardness which is not caused by my being rejected. No doubt you see that I do. But you will have the money after you have proved that you could give it up. It is just the position one would choose. And I have simply proved that I could take it back. My situation would not be chosen in any way. What do you think people will think of me? Will they despise me for being rejected? I do not say jilted. A vulgar word could not pass my lips.'

‘They will think what they always have of you, Uncle,' said Justine.

‘That I am second to my brother? Well, they must think that. Do you think a vulgar word could pass their lips?'

‘I am sure it could not in connexion with you.'

‘That is a good thing. Perhaps I am a person who can carry off anything. I must be, because that is what I am doing. You will have to support me and not show it. I should not like it to be thought that I needed help from others. And as I am still well off, people won't entirely despise me.'

‘You are many other things, Uncle.'

‘They are not the kind of things that people would see. People are so dreadful. I am not like them, after all.'

‘When will Father marry Miss Sloane?' said Aubrey.

‘We do not know, dear. No one knows,' said his sister. ‘Some time will have to pass.'

‘That seems so unreasonable,' said Dudley. ‘Why should people wait to carry out their wishes? Of course they should not have them. I see that; I like to see it. I am not a man without natural feelings. I could not rise above them if I were without them. And that seems the chief thing that I do.'

‘Will you be taking up the repairs to the house again?' said Justine, in a practical tone, as if to liberate her uncle from the thrall of speech.

Other books

Witch by Tara Brown
Morgan's Passing by Anne Tyler
The Strode Venturer by Hammond Innes
Dying to Sin by Stephen Booth
Chatter by Horning, Kurt
The Paper Magician by Charlie N. Holmberg
Under the Lash by Carolyn Faulkner
The Black Pearl by Scott O'Dell