Parents and Children (38 page)

‘I mind quite as much. But I have had to get used to it.'

‘I call that not minding so much,' said Honor, still turning round.

‘You went on minding about your father.'

‘I minded less; I had to. Everyone does. And other people get tired of your minding. Even Mother did. But if he really died now, I should mind more.'

‘And you have not worn black since we knew you,' said Gavin to Miss Pilbeam.

‘We do not stay in black for ever.'

‘We do for a year, unless there is something to prevent it,' said Honor. ‘We went out because Mother was going to marry again. The children can't look as if they still minded, when the mother has proved that she doesn't.'

‘I don't think you quite understand your mother. She had to make the best of her life as it was.'

‘If you really still minded, you wouldn't think there was any best.'

‘You wouldn't think your father minded, if he was going to marry someone else,' said Gavin.

‘I hope I should try to understand it. Indeed I do try to,' said Miss Pilbeam, in a lighter tone.

‘Is he going to marry someone else?' said Honor.

‘Yes, he told me last night,' said Miss Pilbeam, with an open, easy smile.

‘It is funny that your father decided to marry someone else on the day when our mother knew she couldn't.'

Miss Pilbeam did not dwell upon the coincidence, though it was to be explained on the ground that her father had found the news an opening for himself.

‘Does it make you hate your father?' said Gavin.

‘No, not at all. You did not hate your mother, did you?'

‘Well, she went down in my estimation,' said Honor.

‘You would not have wished her to be lonely.'

‘I should have thought it couldn't be helped.'

‘The new woman will be your stepmother,' said Gavin, with a threat in his tone.

‘Yes, she will. But she is an old friend.'

‘Perhaps your father always wanted to marry her, even when your mother was alive,' said Honor.

‘No, I am sure he did not.'

‘Do people generally marry someone else, when their own wife or husband is dead?' said Gavin.

‘No, only sometimes. I think men do it oftener than women.'

‘Can they go on doing it as often as they like?'

‘Yes, if they continue to lose their partners,' said Miss Pilbeam, with a touch of facetiousness.

Nevill came into the room in an absent manner, his eyes on a ball of string in his hands.

‘Why, what a muddled ball!' said Miss Pilbeam.

‘It is in a tangle,' said Nevill, with quiet resignation.

‘I will soon put it straight for you.'

‘Mullet said, do it himself,' said Nevill, with a sudden burst of tears.

‘Oh, I think Mullet must have been busy.'

‘Mullet was busy,' said Nevill, in a cheered, relieved tone. ‘Poor
Mullet was very busy. She wouldn't say it another time.'

‘Miss Pilbeam's father is going to be married,' said Honor.

‘Not to Mr Ridley,' said Nevill, instantly.

‘Of course not. A man can't marry another man.'

‘He can't have Mr Ridley's house.'

‘He doesn't want it. He has a house of his own. I suppose he will still live there.

‘Yes, he will,' said Nevill. ‘That is a nice house too.'

‘You don't know anything about it.'

‘Miss Pilbeam likes it,' said Nevill.

‘Do you like it?' said Gavin, to Miss Pilbeam. ‘I don't think it is at all nice.'

‘I have not thought how it appears to other people. It has always been my home.'

‘Perhaps your stepmother will turn you out,' said Gavin.

‘No, I don't think she will do that,' said Miss Pilbeam, with a smile.

‘You would laugh on the other side of your face, if she did.'

‘Miss Pilbeam would live here with Hatton and Mullet,' said Nevill.

Honor and Gavin looked at each other, and burst into laughter at this estimation of Miss Pilbeam's place.

Miss Pilbeam looked towards the window.

‘I am “he”; you are “she”; Miss Pilbeam is “it”,' said Gavin, to his sister, seeming to receive an impetus from Nevill's words.

Miss Pilbeam turned sharply towards him.

‘I suppose your father will like your stepmother better than you,' said Honor, quickly.

‘He will have a different feeling for us.'

‘No, he will like Miss Pilbeam best,' said Nevill.

‘I see you are determined to waste your time this morning.'

‘Well, it is natural,' said Honor.

‘Yes, I think it is. Perhaps I had better read to you.'

Nevill at once ran to a book that lay on the sofa, brought it to Miss Pilbeam, and stood waiting to be lifted to her knee.

‘We don't want that book,' said Honor.

Nevill put it on Miss Pilbeam's lap, turned the leaves until he came to his place, and began to read aloud to himself.

‘No, no, that is not the page,' she said, putting her hand over it. ‘You are saying it by heart.'

Nevill turned the pages again, reached one that he actually recognized, and resumed his recitation.

‘No, you are not doing it properly. I will read a chapter of Robinson Crusoe. We are coming to the part where he sees the footprint on the ground.'

Nevill carried his book to the sofa and continued to read, resorting to improvization when his memory failed.

‘Now this is an exciting part,' said Miss Pilbeam.

‘Sometimes you miss things out,' said Honor. ‘I know, because I read the book to myself.'

‘It would be better not to read the book I am reading to you.'

‘I like reading things a lot of times.'

‘Well, this book is certainly worth it.'

‘Then why did you tell her not to?' said Gavin.

‘I thought it might make my reading dull for her. But nothing could make Robinson Crusoe dull, could it?'

‘I think something makes it dull sometimes,' said Gavin, in such a light tone that Miss Pilbeam missed his meaning as he half intended.

Miss Pilbeam began to read, and Nevill raised his voice to overcome the sound, and remained absorbed in the results of his imagination. Neither Honor nor Gavin appeared to be conscious of his presence.

When things had continued for some time, Eleanor and Fulbert entered.

‘Well, Miss Pilbeam,' said the latter, ‘I have come to give you proof of what you have heard. We don't want you in danger of thinking a ghost has sprung on you.'

‘I am rejoiced to see the proof, Mr Sullivan,' said Miss Pilbeam, as she shook hands.

‘Show Father what you are doing,' said Eleanor, to the children.

‘They are hardly in a state to apply themselves. I am just reading aloud. That will steady their nerves.'

‘Poor little things! They will be more themselves tomorrow. And what is Nevill doing?'

Nevill just glanced at his mother and maintained his flow of words, drawing his finger down the page with an effect of keeping his place.

‘Are you reading, dear?'

‘Yes, him and Miss Pilbeam. Honor and Gavin aren't.'

‘What is the book about ?'

‘Don't talk to him while he reads,' said Nevill, and resumed the pursuit.

‘It is a very good imitation,' said Fulbert.

His son gave him a look, and turned the page as his finger reached the bottom of it.

Hatton entered the room, and he looked at her and hesitated, and then took the open book in both his hands and came to her side.

‘It is time for your rest,' she said.

‘He will read in bed,' said Nevill.

‘No, you must go to sleep in bed,' said Eleanor, at once.

‘He will read first,' said her son.

‘He is still a little shy of me,' said Fulbert.

‘Come and say good-bye to Father and me,' said Eleanor.

Nevill approached her, keeping his eyes from Fulbert.

‘Mr Ridley will come back soon. Not stay away a long time like Father. And then Mother will have a nice house.'

‘He tried to comfort me after you had gone. He has got into the habit of saying all the comforting things he can think of,' said Eleanor, hardly giving enough attention to her words.

‘Miss Pilbeam's father is really going to marry again,' said Gavin.

Eleanor turned inquiring eyes on Miss Pilbeam.

‘Yes, I heard the news last night,' said the latter, in a conversational, interested tone. ‘And I shall not have my father so much on my mind. I can look forward to a time when I can think more of myself. I have not been able to be quite selfish enough in the last year.'

‘A healthy resolve, Miss Pilbeam. See that you hold to it,' said Fulbert.

‘Miss Pilbeam's stepmother won't turn her out,' said Gavin.

‘Of course she will not,' said Eleanor. ‘Why should she?'

‘Well, it would hide the fact that she was not the father's first wife,' said Honor, with a slight spacing of the words. ‘I wouldn't marry a man who had had a wife before me. If I had been Mr Ridley, I shouldn't have liked to marry you.'

‘But Mr Ridley will marry her,' said Nevill, in a reassuring tone to his mother.

‘I am the man married to Mother,' said Fulbert.

‘No, Father didn't marry her. He didn't come back for a long time. But Mother will come and see poor Father.'

‘Mr Ridley is not coming here any more.'

‘No, because he has a house. This one is Grandma's.'

‘Mother doesn't want the house now,' said Fulbert.

‘Father can live in it too,' said Nevill, struck by a solution of all the human problems.

‘Mother and I are both staying here.'

‘Yes, until tomorrow.'

‘No, we are staying here for always.'

Nevill met his eyes.

‘Yes, dear Father can stay here,' he said, and ran after Hatton.

‘Nevill wants to get rid of me,' said Eleanor, her tone showing that she did not believe her words.

‘He doesn't know what the word, marry, means,' said Honor.

‘I hope he will know some day,' said Fulbert, putting his arm in his wife's.

Honor looked after them, as they left the room.

‘What is it like to have a father and no mother?' she said to Miss Pilbeam. ‘But you liked your mother better than your father, didn't you?'

‘I think perhaps I did.'

‘You would think so now, because your father is marrying someone else,' said Gavin. ‘That does make people think they don't like the person so well.'

‘Well, it doesn't argue any great depth of nature,' said Honor.

‘We cannot lay down rules in these matters,' said Miss Pilbeam.

Gavin looked at his sister.

‘Do you like Father as much as you thought you did, when you believed he was dead?' he said in a natural tone.

Honor hesitated, or rather paused.

‘Well, I don't think so much of him; I thought he was a more remarkable man. But I am quite reconciled to his being of common clay. I think that is better for those in authority over us?'

‘Would you mind as much, if he died now?'

‘I shouldn't think it was as great a loss. But I should mind more. I couldn't ever bear it again.'

‘Would you die?' said Gavin, in a grave tone.

‘If that is what people do, when they can't bear the things that have happened.'

‘Come, don't forget you are children,' said Miss Pilbeam, who believed that his conversation had been unchildlike.

‘Our experience has gone beyond our age,' said Honor, who shared the belief.

‘Something has,' said Miss Pilbeam, smiling.

‘Well, go on reading,' said Gavin in a rough tone.

‘That is not the way to ask.'

‘I am not asking; I am telling you to go on.'

‘And something has not,' said Miss Pilbeam, deciding to continue to smile and resuming the book.

Eleanor and her husband went on to the schoolroom.

‘Well, Miss Mitford, I have come to see you,' said Fulbert, ‘and to give you proof that I am flesh and blood like yourself.'

Miss Mitford rose and shook hands.

‘It is kind of you to say so,' she said.

Fulbert laughed though his tone had hardly been without the suggestion.

‘The situation puts you at a loss, does it?' he said observing or rather assuming that this was the case, and accordingly regarding her with eyes of enjoyment.

‘Well, it is quite outside my experience.'

‘An experience need not be so narrow, that it does not include it,' said Fulbert, giving encouragement, where it might be needed. ‘Yours has taken place within four walls, but some of the deepest has done that.'

‘Mine has not been of that kind,' said Miss Mitford.

‘Well, well, some of us must deal with the smaller things of life.'

‘Education is not among those,' said Eleanor.

‘Indeed it is not. These youngsters owe you a great deal, Miss Mitford.'

‘I am sure they realize it. Don't you, James?' said Eleanor, appealing to her son from force of habit, as his debt was less than his sisters'.

‘Yes.'

‘Why are you not at school, my boy?'

James felt that all the difficult moments of his life culminated in this one. He had accepted his father's return to family life as too solemn an occasion for the personal interest of his own education to have a place, and had remained at home in a grave and quiet spirit, and was reading a book to which these terms would apply.

‘It is Father's first day at home,' he said, in a low, uncertain voice, that awaited his parents' interpretation.

‘But not James's,' said Fulbert, in an amused, rallying tone, that gave his son his answer.

‘And how are the others spending their time?' said Eleanor. ‘I see that lessons are not in progress.'

‘I am doing nothing,' said Isabel, at once.