A Heritage and its History (7 page)

“I am not,” said Julia. “I would as soon forget the two of you.”

“I have no claim on remembrance,” said Sir Edwin.

“You must try to be one of us, Edwin. Or you will be alone in your own house.”

“That is what I must be. None of you is to blame.”

“Simon has not been himself today. You must not let him estrange you from us.”

“We have had new glimpses of him. I think not yet the whole.”

“It is not my fault that I shall have more scope now,” said his nephew.

“Simon! I hope this is the whole,” said Walter.

“How else could I put it?”

“Surely differently,” said Julia.

“He said what he meant,” said Sir Edwin. “Other words would have had other meaning.”

“I would have chosen to hear them. Where are you going, Edwin?”

“Out for a while. And perhaps to the Grahams. I need a word with a friend.”

“There, Simon!” said Julia, as the door closed. “What a thing to hear, when he is with his own family! I hope you will learn the lesson. And on this day of all others!”

“Should I be apt to learn on that day? Is it a mental stimulus? You seem to think it should encourage every good quality. You will end by being thankful to it.”

“I shall have little reason. And you might have been such a help to me.”

“I have been more than you know. The day will come when you realise it.”

“So Simon has been misunderstood,” said Walter. “And it will be found out in his lifetime. I did not know that ever happened. And he has told us himself; and I am sure that never does.”

“Well, we must understand him in future,” said Julia, putting an arm about her son. “I think his mother has done so, but he makes it hard for other people. And now let us talk about your father, and resolve to follow where he led. That will help us with our first steps in the new life.”

“Has not Simon taken his?” said Walter. “I was trusting they were behind.”

“Now when your uncle returns, Simon,” said Julia, an hour or two later, “remember he lives in a past you do not understand. To him the old ways are best.”

“And if they are not, must I wait for his death to see it? It would mean I did wait for it, and that is a poor enough thing.”

“I am not talking about his death, but about his life. He has a future, as you have; and there is no reason to look beyond it. It is a thing that is never done.”

“Never openly you mean. That is the difference between me and other people. I am not an overreaching person. I don't know why you think so.”

“I am glad you are not, Simon,” said Walter. “It is a great relief.”

“It is no credit to you to be the elder son. You must not stand too much on it. Somehow I did not think our talk today would be like this.”

“I know what you thought it would be. I am glad it is not.”

“It would have been better to look back on.”

“It would have meant we could never do so.”

“Well, bear one thing in mind. Your uncle has the first claim on us. And you must not expect him to be your mother.”

“We don't even think he may be a father to us. And perhaps he should try to be that.”

“Well, in that case you should be sons to him.”

“Oh, I think he has been upset enough,” said Simon, laughing.

“You can try to put yourself in his place.”

“That is the last thing he wants. He does not even like my being in my own.”

“You know what I meant. You must look at things through his eyes.”

“In that case I must try not to see myself,” said Simon.

“Your doing so might be a help to both of you.”

“I don't dare to imagine it all,” said Walter. “Simon will suggest things, and be honest, and will not be Father. I don't see how Uncle will bear it.”

“Bear what?” said another voice, as Sir Edwin returned.

“Working with my son,” said Julia.

“It is not a change I have chosen. He knows that, and will ease it for me. And I am old to make it. And that is a thing he knows.”

“You must not make a study of Simon, Uncle,” said Walter. “You cannot work with anyone you understand.”

“I should have thought that would make it easier,” said Julia.

“I am a simple person to follow,” said her elder son.

“But we will not say anything about that, Simon,” said Walter.

“I think you look better for your walk, Edwin,” said Julia.

“Yes, the night was kind, and the friends also. We are helped by kindness.”

“Dear Edwin, you are very brave. I must tell you once that I think so.”

“A woman is able to say those things,” said Simon.

“A woman can forget herself,” said his mother.

“Men would feel it too simple to say a thing of that kind.”

“Well, that is not forgetting themselves,” said Walter.

“There are things women see more easily,” said Sir Edwin. “Or more often.”

“You think so, Edwin?” said Julia. “I have thought you preferred men.”

“I do not put one above the other. It is a thing people are too apt to do.”

“Did you find my father ready to forget himself, Uncle?” said Simon.

“Simon, only you could put such a question at such a time,” said Julia.

“I think I need not answer it,” said Sir Edwin.

“Do Rhoda and Fanny feel my father's death?”

“Yes, but not first for themselves,” said his uncle, turning away.

“I fear your uncle is beyond help,” said Julia, in a low tone. “And of course I am too in a different way.”

“I am glad it is not the same,” said Simon. “He might take a lesson from you, if it were worth while at his age.”

“When you come to the age, you will think less of it.”

“I shall think more,” said Walter. “I shall be so near to the grave.”

“You may die at any age,” said his brother.

“No, I shall live to the full span. And every year will take from it.”

“Mater, it is strange that we think of my uncle's loss more than of yours,” said Simon.

“Well, I have my sons. And I gave your father up to his brother in a way. It was a thing I could do for both of them. It was a good thing I could do myself. I have not done enough good things in my life.”

“No wonder my uncle balks at trouble, when he is used to such dealings. I suppose you would give both of
us up to him, if he needed us. Not that there is any likelihood of it.”

“I will not make the claim,” said Sir Edwin, with a faint smile. “I must serve my own need. It is true that I have not hidden it.”

“And what of your need, Mater? Of course you have your sons, but he does not rank that compensation high.”

“How high do I rank it?” said Julia, smiling and giving him her hand.

Simon leant back with it in his, and glanced about him.

“Four seems a comfortable number,” he said.

“Simon, think what you are saying!” said Julia.

“I am thinking. My father and uncle sat apart. There were the three of us together. And now my uncle has joined us.”

“You should remember the reason of the change.”

“So you feel it is possible to forget it?”

“You might almost make us think it was. You should be careful what you say.”

“I dislike people who have to do that. I have nothing to hide. It is better to talk honestly.”

“I think it is much worse,” said Walter. “It means all sorts of risks. Honest people can even say: ‘If you don't mind my saying so,' after they have said it. And they cannot know before. Dishonest talk is far better. I should like to hear myself described insincerely.”

“What do you think, Edwin?” said Julia.

“I am afraid I did not hear.”

“You are tiring your uncle,” said Julia, to her sons.

“No, I was lost in my own thoughts. It sounds egotistic, and is what it sounds.”

“Would you like to be alone?” said Julia, gently.

“I will remain in the flesh and be absent in spirit, if you will bear with it.”

“We like to have you with us in any sense. I am often sunk in my thoughts too.”

“Mater, you set an example,” said Simon. “You have your own change to face. You are making a brave beginning.”

“So honest conversation can be as good as this,” said Walter. “I must think of something honest to say.”

“Was my uncle absent in the spirit, when he was with Rhoda and Fanny?” said Simon, lowering his tone. “And did he tell them he did not hear what they said? They must have wondered why he called on them.”

“I have something to say to you,” said Sir Edwin, remaining at the table after a meal. “I am going to be married tomorrow to Rhoda Graham. I have not told you before. I will not say more than the one word now. I do not accept the idea of discussion or question. We shall be alone at the marriage, go from it on a short journey, and return in about two weeks. I have ordered the room next to mine to be prepared.”

There was a pause.

“Hamish's room?” said Julia, saying what came to her lips.

“The room that was his. It is a better room than mine.”

There was another pause.

“Who will be the mistress of the house?” said Simon, in a sudden tone.

“My wife,” said his uncle.

“After my mother has been so for twenty-seven years?”

“After that. And after it, she is able to help another in the place. I will ask it of her.”

“I am glad you are to have more in your life, Edwin,” said Julia, in a fainter tone. “We are all glad.”

“You have been a friend to me, Julia. I will not ask
you to be one now. It would be to throw doubt upon it. You will see that my life is my own.”

“Our lives are never our own,” said Simon. “They are bound up with other lives. They belong in part to other people.”

“They cannot move along a line with no crossroads. And one is here.”

“Rhoda's life would be joined to one that has had its past, and may have no future. In other words she would share it in its last stage.”

“She will, you might say. And the first words would have served you.”

“Simon, that will do,” said Julia, in a low tone.

Sir Edwin rose from his seat.

“I will say the word I owe to you. You have a right to hear my reasons for a change in my life, that must bear on yours. I cannot live by myself amongst those who live in fellowship. I must have a semblance of it. I need it in order to face the time before me. I do not choose to say more.”

There was a pause.

“Do you wish us to remain in the house, Uncle?” said Simon.

“I am willing that you should.”

“I am glad my mother has not to seek another home. I infer that you do not think of having a family?”

“I have said that I do not accept the idea of question.”

“It must all be said, when you have left us. Would it not be better to say it to your face?”

“I do not know why that should improve it,” said Sir
Edwin, going to the door. “Nor need I hear it, to know what it will be.”

“Well, we will say it behind his back,” said Walter. “So that he cannot really know.”

“We have not given him companionship,” said Julia, in a slow tone. “But it has been hard to give it. He has shrunk into himself. He has needed to be first with someone. It is what he has been.”

“You did what could be done,” said Simon. “More was not due from you or due to him.”

“He would not always have had it, if it had not been due in a way.”

“Well, what a shock for all of us! But if there is to be no family, the future remains the same. There will simply be Rhoda's provision after my uncle's death.”

“Simon, must you still harp on that? You must see it is his life, that is in question now.”

“I only meant there would be a limit to the change.”

“None to the changes. The house will be hers, and I shall be here to help her in it. I shall be a mere member of the household, after being its mistress for so long. But I have had no claim to the place.”

“You have earned it by filling it for all these years. There is such a thing as the right of tenure.”

“We see that there is not.”

“It cannot be true,” said Walter. “Now I know what it is to feel I am living in a dream. And I hardly want to wake. I feel a sort of excitement.”

“It is the shock,” said his mother. “The feeling will not last.”

“We might have foreseen it,” said Simon. “He has
been going so often to the Grahams. And they have not come here. We might have deduced something from it. We were not to see them together. Of course I know it is wisdom after the event.”

“But when it is so much wisdom,” said Walter, “it cannot matter when it comes.”

“We must not have a sense of grievance,” said Julia. “What we have had was not ours by right. Your uncle might have married in his youth.”

“Then my father would not have lived in his house,” said Simon. “We should have had a home of our own. We see now that we have never had one. And my father might have worked for himself instead of merging his life in his brother's. We cannot ignore the history of two lives.”

“I shall have no right to exist,” said Walter. “What a good thing I have learned to be a burden!”

“What will Fanny do in that house by herself?” said Simon. “I suppose the best she can, as we shall in this one, not by ourselves.”

“What do you say to it all, Deakin?” said Walter.

“It is hardly my place to comment, sir.”

“I suppose you think the more?”

“That is said, sir, but I see no reason. Sometimes people who say less, think less also.”

“But that is not true of you,” said Julia.

“I must try to make it so, ma'am. Mr. Hamish's place is filled,” said Deakin, turning to the door.