A Family and a Fortune (29 page)

‘No, no, Aunt Matty. You will not make bad blood between Maria and me,' said Justine, shaking her head.

‘Bad blood, dear?' said her aunt, in a low, almost troubled tone. ‘I did not think there was any question of that. I had put the thought away. I am sure there is none any longer. I am sure that all the little pinpricks and jealousies have faded away.'

‘Justine does not know what such things are,' said Edgar.

‘Well, I said they had faded away, and that amounts to the same thing.'

‘It is on the way to the opposite thing.'

‘Dear Father, he has come back to his only daughter,' said Justine.

‘Incontrovertibly,' said Aubrey, looking down.

‘Well, am I to have any tea?' said Matty.

‘When you stop holding everyone rooted to the spot,' said Clement. ‘As long as they are petrified, they cannot give you any.'

‘Well, I must lift my spell. I did not know it was so potent. Some people have more power than others and must be careful how they wield it. Thank you, Dudley, and a penny for your thoughts.'

‘I was thinking that I had never made a speech which carried a sting.'

‘I was wondering when we were going to hear your voice. I have never known you so silent.'

‘I recognize the sting. I almost think that the gift of speech is too dangerous to use.'

‘What should we do without your talent in that line?'

‘I believe that is a speech without a sting.'

‘Oh, Aunt Matty, if you would only do it oftener!' said Justine, sighing. ‘You don't know how far you could go.'

‘Don't I, dear? I sometimes think I should be left in a backwater. I admit that I sometimes feel driven to apply the goad.'

‘Aunt Matty, how wrong you are! If only you would realize it!'

‘It must be a trying obligation,' said Maria.

‘If you can manage without it in your ready-made family, you are fortunate,'

‘I see that I am.'

‘And we all see that we are,' said Mark.

‘I am sure - I hope we have many happy days before us,' said Edgar.

‘Rest assured, Father, that we are not poaching on your preserves,' said Justine. ‘Maria is yours, root, barrel and stock. We claim only our reasonable part in her.'

Aubrey looked at his sister.

‘You don't understand my wholehearted acceptance of our new life, do you, little boy? When you get older you will realize that there is no disloyalty involved.'

‘It is a rich gift that I have brought you,' said Matty, smiling at Edgar. ‘So do you think I may have it in my own hands for a time, while you and Dudley go and make up your arrears, and the young ones play at whatever is their play of the moment?'

The word was obeyed before it was considered. Edgar withdrew with his brother and his children found themselves in the hall.

‘If I were Maria,' said Clement, ‘I would not let Aunt Matty order the house.'

‘She will not do so for long; do not fear,' said his sister. ‘There are signs that she is equal to her charge. I am quite serene. And I was glad to see Father and Uncle go off in their old way. Uncle still has his brother. I don't think anything has touched that.'

Edgar and Dudley were sitting in their usual chairs, their usual table between them, the usual box of Dudley's cigars at Edgar's hand.

‘The young people have given no trouble?'

‘None.'

‘You have not lavished too much on them?'

‘Nothing. They keep to what they have,'

‘Is there anything to tell about the house?'

‘The work goes on. Mark and I have had our eye on it.'

‘Dudley,' said Edgar, keeping his voice to the same level but unable to control its tones, ‘I have always taken all you had. Always from the beginning. You did not seem to want it. Now, if I have taken something you did want -'

‘Oh, I am a great giver. And giving only counts if you want what you give. They say that we should never give away anything that we do not value.'

‘It is the rarest thing to be.'

‘Well, I don't wonder at that. It seems to be one of those things which may end anywhere. We see that it has with us. But I had to follow my nature. It may have been my second nature in this case. It would be best to hide a first nature quickly, and I was very quick. I hope people admire me. To be admired is one of the needs of my nature; my first nature that would be. But I should only expect them to admire the second. It would not often be possible to admire first natures. I used to think that you and I only had second ones, but now we have both revealed our first, and it gives us even more in common.'

Edgar looked at his brother, uncertain whether to be cheered or troubled by the tangle of his words.

‘You find you are able - you can be with Maria and me?'

‘Yes. There is not so much of my first nature left as you fear. And I daresay it is best that I should not marry. If a man has to forsake his father and mother, he ought to forsake his brother, and I find I could not do that. I suppose you have forsaken me in your mind? You should have.'

Edgar looked up with a smile, missing what lay behind the words, and the cry from his brother's heart went unanswered.

When Edgar's children came down to dinner they found their aunt alone.

‘Well, here is the first evening of our new life,' said Justine. ‘I feel easy and not uncheerful.'

‘Yes, I think so do I, dear,' said Matty. ‘I think I can see my Maria over you all, as I could not see anyone else.'

‘I already see her taking her place at the table in my mind's eye,' said Justine, leaning back and closing her other
eyes to give full scope to this one, ‘Easily and simply, as if she had always had it.'

‘Well, perhaps not quite like that, dear. That might not be the best way. I think she can do better.'

‘That would be well enough,' said Mark.

‘I daresay she will take her place like anyone else,' said Clement.

‘I think the boys admire their young stepmother, Justine,' said Aubrey.

‘Well, we are at a difficult point,' said Matty. ‘We are the victims of a conflict of loyalties. We must be patient with each other.' She smiled at them with compressed lips, seeming to exercise this feeling.

Maria took her seat at the table as if she were taking it naturally for the first time.

‘The place is taken,' murmured Aubrey.

‘And as I said it would be,' said Clement.

‘Well, I want a little help in taking my place,' said Matty. ‘I am not able to take it quite like that. Thank you, Edgar.'

‘I shall so enjoy shelving the household cares tomorrow,' said Justine. ‘No housewife ever parted with her keys with less of a pang.'

‘You will give what help you can?' said Edgar.

‘No, I shall not, Father. I know it sounds perverse, but a house cannot do with more than one head. Nothing can serve two masters. I go free without a qualm.'

‘I only serve one master,' said Aubrey. ‘Penrose.'

‘Do you feel you would like a change?' said Maria.

‘No, no, don't pander to him, Maria; he will only take advantage. I mean, of course, that that is what I have found. You will form your own conclusions.'

‘Perhaps I shall find that I have learnt more from Penrose than many another lad at a great public school.'

‘I don't know what ground you have for the view,' said Mark.

‘It was just one of my little speeches. What would the house be without them?'

‘It would be better with Uncle and no one to copy him,' said Clement.

‘Now, Clement, come, there is a real likeness,' said Justine.

‘Clement is jealous of my genuine touch of Uncle.'

‘Does Dudley see the likeness?' said Matty, with a faint note of sighing patience with the well worn topic.

‘I should think it is the last thing anyone would see, a likeness to himself,' said her niece.

‘Should you, dear? The opposite of what I say. We are not all like your uncle.'

‘I make no pretence of lightness and charm. I am a blunt and downright person. People have to take me as I am.'

‘Yes, we do, dear,' said Matty, seeming to use the note of patience in two senses.

‘Clement thinks that I try to cultivate them,' said Aubrey, ‘and it makes him jealous.'

‘You may be wise to save us from taking you as we take Justine,' said Clement.

Aubrey gave a swift glance round the table, and sat with an almost startled face.

‘Maria, what do you think of our family?' said Justine. ‘It is full experience for you on your first night.'

‘It is better not to have it delayed. And I must think of myself as one of you.'

‘This is the very worst. I can tell you that.'

‘I have often been prouder of my sister's children,' said Matty.

Edgar and Dudley turned towards her.

‘I believe the two brothers are so absorbed in being together that no one else exists for them.'

There was a pause and Matty was driven further.

‘Well, it is a strange chapter that I have lived since I have been here. A strange, swift chapter. Or a succession of strange, swift chapters. If I had known what was to be, might I have been able to face it? And if not, how would it all be with us? How we can think of the might-have-beens!'

‘There are no such things,' said Edgar.

‘We cannot foretell the future,' said Mark. ‘It might make us mould our actions differently.'

‘And then how would it all be with us?' repeated Matty, in a light, running tone. ‘Maria not here; Justine not deposed; nothing between your father and uncle; everything so that my sister could come back at any time and find her home as she left it.'

‘Is it so useful to have things ready for her return?'

‘It is hardly a dependable contingency,' said Clement.

‘No, no,' said Justine, with a movement of distaste, ‘I am not going to join.'

‘So my little flight of imagination has fallen flat.'

‘What fate did it deserve?' said Edgar, in a tone which fell with its intended weight.

‘Did you expect it to carry us with it?' said Mark.

Matty shrank into herself, drawing her shawl about her and looking at her niece almost with appeal. The latter shook her head.

‘No, no, Aunt Matty, you asked for it. I am not going to interfere.'

‘What do you say to the reception of a few innocent words, Dudley?'

‘I have never heard baser ones.'

Matty looked at Maria, and meeting no response, drew the shawl together again and bent forward with a shiver.

‘Have you a chill, Matty?' said Dudley.

‘I felt a chill then. There seemed to be one in the air. I am not sure whether it was physical or mental. The one may lead to the other. I think that perhaps chills do encircle you and me in these days.'

‘That is not true of Uncle,' said Justine. ‘He is safely ensconced in the warmth of the feeling about him.'

‘And I am not? I am a lonely old woman living in the past? I was coming to feel I was that. Perhaps I ought not to have come today, sunk as I was in the sadness of this return.' Matty ended on a hardly audible note.

‘It was certainly not wise to come with no other feeling about it,' said Mark.

‘No, it was not, because that was how I felt. So perhaps it is not wise to stay. I will make haste to go, and lift the damper of my presence. I feel that I have been a blight, that
your first evening would have been better without me. I meant to come and join you in looking forward, and I have stood by myself and looked back. I am glad it has been by myself, that I have not drawn any of you with me.' Matty kept her eyes on Mark's, to protect herself from other eyes. ‘But I have been wrong in not hiding my heart. My father sets me an example in avoiding the effort destined to fail. I thought I could follow your uncle. I meant to take a leaf out of his book. But I can't quite do it today. Today I must go away by myself and be alone with my memories. And I shall not find it being alone. And that is a long speech to end up with, isn't it?'

‘Yes, it is rather long.'

‘Very well, then, go if you must,' said Justine. ‘What does my hostess say?'

‘Oh, of course, I should not have spoken for her,' said Justine, with a little laugh.

‘Justine has said the only thing that can be said. But the carriage cannot be here at once.'

‘Well, I will go and sit in the hall. Then I shall have left the feast. There will no longer be the death's head at it. I shall be easier when I am not that. That is the last thing I like to be, a cloud over happy people. We must not underrate happiness because it is not for ourselves. It ought to make us see how good it is, and it does show it indeed.'

‘Who is going to see Aunt Matty out?' murmured Aubrey.

‘Perhaps Dudley will,' said Matty, smiling at the latter. ‘Then he and I can sit for a minute, and perhaps give each other a little strength for the different effort asked of us.'

Dudley seemed not to hear and Maria signed to her husband.

‘Aunt Matty would have been burned as a witch at one time,' said Clement.

‘Does Clement's voice betray a yearning for the good old days?' said Aubrey.

‘Witches seem always to have been innocent people,' said Mark.

‘That will do. Let us leave Aunt Matty alone,' said Justine. ‘She may merit no more, but so much is her due.'

‘What does Maria say?' said Dudley, in an ordinary tone.

‘We are all moving forward. And if Matty does not come with us, she will be left behind.'

‘She may pull herself up and follow,' said Justine.

‘She will probably lead,' said Clement.

‘She will not do that,' said his father, returning to the room.

‘Has Aunt Matty gone already, Father?' said Justine.

‘No. She asked me to leave her, and I did as she asked.'