A Family and a Fortune (13 page)

‘Those letters you have had in these last days? That one you went away to answer?'

‘I see there has been no secret between us.'

‘It will make a great deal of difference, Dudley.'

‘Yes, it will. I am not going to pretend that I don't think much of it. I think too much, as is natural. And I am not going to refer to it as a nice little fortune. I think it is a large one, though I am rather ashamed of thinking it. I don't know why people do such aggravating things. It must be because money brings out the worst in them. I shall never even say that I am a comparatively poor man. I have actually begun to push the thought from me.'

The door opened and Blanche appeared with a lamp, pale and different in the half light, her loose, grey hair and straight garments giving her the look of a woman from another age.

‘What are you talking about all this time? I had no idea that you had not come up. I went to get something from Edgar's room and thought he must be asleep. I can never get to sleep myself while I know that other people are about. I am so afraid of fire. You know that.'

‘Indeed I did not, Blanche,' said Dudley. ‘At least I thought that you slept in spite of your fear, like everyone else.'

‘I thought the same, assumed it,' said Edgar.

‘I cannot sleep when I feel that people are doing their best to set the house in a blaze every moment. How could I?'

‘I don't see how you could. I did not know that Edgar did that when he sat up. It seems sly somehow, when he never does it in the day. And it does show that he ought to be in bed. But I do my best with quite different things. You can sleep in peace when you know that I am about.'

‘You will accept our excuse when you hear it, Blanche. Dudley has been left a fortune - a sum of money by his godfather.'

‘He hasn't,' said Blanche in a petulant tone. ‘Not large enough to make all that talk and keep you up half the night. I know he was quite a poor man; I did not know why anyone had him for a godfather. Now come upstairs, both of you, and put out the lamps and push back the coals, as Dudley implies that he does it, and let us hear about it in the morning.'

The brothers occupied themselves with these measures.

‘How much is it?' said Blanche, shading the lamp with her hand and speaking as if she might as well hear while she waited.

‘It is a large sum, my dear, really very large. You must be prepared.'

‘How much is it? It is very nice if it is large. I saw his death in the papers, and meant to speak about it and forgot. He was over a hundred, wasn't he?'

‘He was ninety-six,' said Dudley, ‘but that is old enough to make it excusable to forget his death.'

‘How much is it? Why do you not tell me? Is there some mystery?'

‘No, there is not; I wish there were; I hate having to manage without one. Edgar, you are tailing me at last.'

‘It is two thousand a year,' said Edgar, ‘or probably about that sum.'

‘Two thousand pounds a year?'

‘Yes, yes. About that, about two thousand pounds.'

‘Two thousand pounds a year or two thousand pounds?'

‘Two thousand pounds a year.'

‘Why, how very nice!' said Blanche, turning to lead the way from the room, with her hand still over her lamp. ‘When did you hear? Dear Dudley, I do congratulate you. It is just what you deserve. I never was so glad about anything. And you were wise not to talk about it before Matty. It sometimes upsets her to hear that people have much more than she has. We might be the same in her place. Well, no wonder you stayed up to talk about that. We must talk it over in the morning; I shall quite look forward to it. Well, I shall sleep very soundly after hearing this.'

Blanche, meaning what she said and about to act upon it, went upstairs, guarding her lamp, and the brothers followed, pausing to whisper outside their doors.

‘We have seen things out of their true proportion,' said Dudley. ‘How is it that our outlook is so material? I was prepared to toss on my bed, and really we ought to sleep particularly well. I thought when I saw Miss Sloane, that she and I lived apart from tangible things. And really we have only been kept apart from them. Well, you can't separate yourself from me on this occasion. All that I have is yours.'

A flash from Blanche's door sent Edgar into his room and Dudley on tiptoe to her side.

‘Blanche, I am only waiting for the morrow, to come and pour it all into your lap. And I am sure the house is not in a blaze.'

‘Good night, dear Dudley,' said Blanche, smiling and closing her door.

‘Well, has your uncle told you his news?' said Blanche at breakfast, as she moved her hands uncertainly amongst the cups. ‘I heard it last night and I found it quite a tonic. I was feeling so very tired and it quite pulled me up. I slept so well and I still feel quite stimulated. I have been looking forward to talking about it.'

‘What is it?' said Mark. ‘Is Uncle going to be married?'

‘No, of course he is not. What a thing to ask! There are other kinds of news.'

‘Well, I must say, Mother, it occurred to me,' said Justine. ‘What interpretation do you want put upon your words? That would be quite a natural one. I was already feeling a mingled sense of excitement and coming blank. And people were springing to my mind as likely candidates. As you have created the void, you owe it to us to fill it.'

‘Perhaps your uncle would like to tell you himself.'

‘No, I should not; I do not talk about my own affairs. I have come down early on purpose to hear you do it.'

‘Or perhaps they would like to guess?'

‘Really, Mother, we are not so young. And there is nothing to put us on the track. If Uncle has neither become engaged nor been left a fortune, we clearly cannot guess.'

‘I think you can,' said Edgar. ‘Indeed you have almost done so.'

‘Have I? Oh, dear Uncle,' said Justine, springing up and hurrying round the table to Dudley. ‘Dear, dear Uncle, who have given all your mind and your life to other people, to think that you have something for yourself at last! I would rather it were you than anyone else in the world. Far, far rather than that it were me.'

‘I would rather it were me too.'

‘I know you wouldn't. You would rather it were anyone and everyone. But it isn't this time. You are the hero of this occasion. And utterly rejoiced we all are that it is so.'

Blanche glanced from her daughter to Dudley with eyes of modest but irrepressible pride.

‘We should like to know just at what we are to rejoice,' said Clement.

‘I should not; I am quite indifferent. I just like to know that a piece of luck has crossed Uncle's path; and what it is and how much it is can stand over while I savour the main truth. It is what I have always waited for.'

‘I suppose we all wait in case we shall be left a fortune,' said Dudley. ‘But I never heard of anyone's waiting for other people to be left one. Because why should they be? They have no claim. And we should spend part of ours on them, and what can they want more?'

‘Yes, that is what you want it for,' said Justine, sighing. ‘To spend it on other people. And we shall all share in it evenly and equally. It was idle to hope that you would have anything for yourself. It hardly becomes us to ask how much it is. Oh, what am I saying? What a pass your dealings with us have brought us to! Somebody say something quickly to cover my confusion.'

‘Perhaps someone who does not assume that it is his as much as Uncle's, may put the question,' said Clement. ‘Our interest in Uncle may lead us to that.'

‘Well, who will do it?' said Mark.

‘I cannot,' said Justine, leaning back. ‘Leave me out of it.'

‘You were hardly anticipating that fate.'

‘They all feel sensitive about it,' said Blanche, smiling at Dudley. ‘This is something outside their experience.'

‘But why should they feel like that? I do, of course, because I have something which I have done nothing to earn, and which makes me one of those people who have too much, when some people have not enough to live on; and anyone would be sensitive about that. I expect that is partly why rich people say they are poor. But only partly: they really think they are poor. I begin to understand it and to think I am poor myself, really to see that I am. So no one need feel sensitive for my sake. There is no reason.'

‘I need not say how I feel for my own,' said Justine. ‘Oh
yes, Father, you may look as if your only daughter could do and say no wrong. I crossed the bound that time.'

‘I don't see how we are to hear the main thing,' said Clement.

‘Can we ask who has left the money?' said Mark.

‘My godfather,' said his uncle.

‘The man who was nearly a hundred?'

‘Well, he was ninety-six.'

‘Well, we need feel no sorrow; that is one thing,' said Justine, as if further complication of feeling would be too much.

‘Is it a million pounds?' said Aubrey.

‘Now, little boy, you are not as young as that.'

Aubrey fell into silence as he found what he did by words.

‘What proportion of a million is it?' said Clement.

‘A terribly small one,' said Dudley. ‘About a twentieth, I should think. It is really very small. I have quite got over my sensitiveness and am afraid that people will think I am better off than I am. I see now how that happens. I am sorry I have so often said that people can surely afford things, when they are so well off. I feel so much remorse. I really don't like inheriting so little, except that now I suppose I should starve without it.'

‘Oh, we shall not find it so very little. Make no doubt about that,' said Justine, meeting the general laughter with her own. ‘Well, why should we not speak the truth after all?'

‘You have seen no reason why you should not speak it,' said Clement. ‘I mean, as you see it. Don't sit grinning at me, Aubrey. It makes you look more vacant than usual.'

‘It is an immense family event,' said Mark. ‘I mean a great event for Uncle. It seems that we cannot speak without tripping, that all words mean the same thing.'

‘I hope you are not all forgetting your breakfast,' said Blanche.

‘I am so ashamed of being excited and toying with my food,' said Dudley. ‘And all about my own little affairs! I have explained how little they are. I am grateful to Justine
for taking the matter as concerning us all. It makes me feel less egotistic, sitting here chasing morsels round my plate.'

‘Would you like something fresh and hot, sir?' said Jellamy, who had stood behind the table with prominent eyes, and now spoke as if any luxury would be suitable for Dudley in his new situation. ‘Shall I give the word to Cook, ma'am?'

‘No, you may go now. We have not really wanted you all this time. We will ring if we want anything.'

‘No, ma'am; yes, ma'am,' said Jellamy, going to the door with a suggestion of coat-tails flying.

‘Jellamy has had a good half-hour,' said Mark, ‘and will now have another.'

‘Well, we have all had that,' said his sister.

‘You have had the best,' said Clement. ‘No one has been left anything but you and Uncle, and he had had his hour already.'

‘That is unworthy, Clement. And there is something I do not like in the tone of the speech. Father, are you not going to say a word on the great occasion? We know it is greater for you in that it concerns Uncle and not yourself. And we seem to want your note.'

‘Father said all that he felt last night,' said Blanche, unsure of her husband under the demand.

‘What did the godfather die of?' said Clement, with a retaliatory note, as if to add a touch of trouble and reproach.

‘Of old age and in his sleep,' said Dudley.

‘He has shown us every consideration,' said Mark, ‘except by living to be ninety-six.'

‘I have been kept out of my inheritance too long. I might have saved by now, and then I should not have had so little. But I must conquer any bitterness.'

‘There is little Mr Penrose,' said Justine. ‘Aubrey, you can put all this excitement out of your head.'

‘Perhaps I can have a full-sized tutor now.'

‘Now, now, none of that. This makes no difference to you except that you rejoice with Uncle. Apart from that you can just forget it.'

‘He can indeed,' said Blanche, looking up. ‘Are you paying attention, Aubrey?'

‘Good morning, Mrs Gaveston; good morning, Mr Gaveston. May I offer you my congratulations upon the piece of news which has just come to my ears? Good morning, Mr Dudley; I feel that I should have addressed you first on this occasion.'

‘So you meet an occasion when you do not find me second to my brother.'

‘Oh, I do not know that, Mr Dudley,' said Mr Penrose, laughing. ‘I have never had any feeling of that kind. One naturally comes to the elder brother first. That has been all the distinction in my mind.'

‘So good news runs apace,' said Edgar.

‘How did you hear, Mr Penrose?' said Justine.

‘From your manservant at the door. I do not generally talk to the man, but today he addressed me and volunteered the information. And if I may say so, he was full of the most pleasant and spontaneous goodwill towards the family.'

‘I think we could not expect him to be silent upon such a piece of news.'

‘Indeed no, Miss Gaveston,' said Mr Penrose, laughing. ‘Not upon the accession of a quarter of a million to the family. It would indeed be much to expect.'

‘It is about a twentieth of a million,' said Dudley.

‘Well, well, Mr Dudley, putting it in round numbers.'

‘But surely numbers are not as round as that. What is the good of numbers? I thought they were an exact science.'

‘Well, taking the bearing of the sum upon ordinary life, shall we say?'

‘No, we will not say it. We will say a twentieth.'