Men and Wives Read online

  “The young monkeys! I daresay they are,” said Godfrey.

  “We do not grudge them, Sir Godfrey, the relaxation proper to their years, even though it be at our expense. We know they do not forget the occasion which has given rise to the presence of Lady Hardisty and myself.”

  “I had hoped they had forgotten it for the moment,” said Rachel. “They did their best to avoid it, poor children.”

  “I doubt if they would thank you for that appellation,” said Dominic with a rather difficult smile. “We may be safe in gathering from experience of young people that it would not appeal to them.”

  “Don’t take any notice of me,” said Rachel. “I can’t forget the occasion, and remembering occasions does not improve anyone. It is so considerate of people to forget them, and give up their credit for depth of nature for the sake of others.”

  “Whatever you do, Rachel, we are thankful to have you here to-night,” said Godfrey. “We are so grateful for your presence that everything else is swallowed up in our gratitude.”

  Dominic looked as if he somehow suffered in comparison with Rachel, and was at a loss to explain it.

  “Don’t let my taking the working party be swallowed up,” said Rachel. “It is really important to deprive the workers of the pleasure of Gregory’s taking it alone. Why should they have pleasure when Harriet can’t? They might even forget the occasion. Mr. Spong has put that into my head, and I could not bear it.”

  “I shouldn’t be there, anyhow,” said Gregory, in a quiet, open manner. “I shan’t be seeing so much of Mrs. Calkin and her sisters now that Mother is ill. She was anxious for me to make friends of my own age, and I hope to get on to the lines she wanted, before she comes back.”

  “Yes, that is the lie of the land, Rachel!” said Godfrey, after a prolonged look, with eyebrows raised, at his youngest son. “Harriet’s children can think of nothing but how they can serve her, and meet her when she returns, with their whole lives adapted to her desires. That is their aim and object. Here is Griselda scuttling away from the rector, scurrying like a hare at the word of approach, because he wasn’t her mother’s fancy for her! And Matthew is giving up his research, simply and finally giving it up without a look behind, because she believed that humdrum work, useful work in the world should be put before personal ambitions. His personal ambitions, poor, dear lad! And now here is Gregory, the last and the least, I mean our dear youngest boy, snapping his thumb at his old ladies, resolving to see no more of them, because it was a whim of his mother’s, his mother knew in her wisdom that his contemporaries were better for him! If these are not children to be proud of, I don’t know whose are. Would you not be proud of children of that stamp, Rachel?”

  “Children of that stamp couldn’t be mine, Godfrey. There is nothing of anything you mention in me to be inherited. For example I couldn’t make friends of my contemporaries. They are failing too rapidly. I hate people whose golden bowls are broken.”

  “I think we need hardly suggest, Lady Hardisty, that Lady Haslam’s case is of that nature,” said Dominic looking bewildered.

  “Well, Spong, and what do you think of these children of mine, now that I have told you what I have of them?”

  “Sir Godfrey,” said Dominic, “I honour them. I honour the young men for the sacrifice that seems to me a tribute to their essential manliness, though many people might take the opposite view; and I am sure Miss Griselda is not behind them in the feminine sphere, which involves no less than their more conspicuous masculine one. Sir Godfrey, I honour your sons and your daughter.”

  “Well, what do you say to that, Rachel?” said Godfrey, with his lips unsteady.

  “I say everything,” said Rachel. “And I will take them all into the drawing-room with me. They can have nothing against the feminine sphere after what Mr. Spong has said about it.”

  “One moment, Sir Godfrey!” said Dominic, raising his hand, in appeal to his host rather than to the woman guest. “Is Jermyn to be exempt from the privilege of concession to his mother’s wishes? I should esteem it as great a one to him as to his brothers.”

  “Oh, I daresay Jermyn will be following on; I can almost get it from the look in his eye,” said the father, not at a loss. “I can vouch for it that Jermyn will not be far behind.”

  “I will not refuse the credit,” said Jermyn. “I may do more spadework and less of my own vanities.”

  “And I will not refuse my whole-hearted approbation, Sir Godfrey,” said Dominic, “and congratulation. Congratulation is the meed that I offer.”

  “Don’t stand waiting for more flattery,” said Rachel. “Come into the other room and shut both doors. Your father may not pull himself up in a moment. You have been through a great deal to-day, my dears. Things have been going from bad to worse. I have not taken a mother’s place, and thrown myself between you and evil.”

  “Mr. Spong won’t stay the night, will he?” said Griselda.

  “No, my child. I am the housekeeper, and I cannot manage it.”

  “It is a mercy you are with us,” said Gregory.

  “It is indeed. But ought you to express appreciation of old ladies, Gregory?”

  “It is incredibly catholic of Father not to mind him,” said Matthew.

  “Well, he does praise all of you as much as he is told,” said Rachel. “I was much less of a success at that. It is grudging and wasteful not to be able to praise people to their faces. Praising them behind their backs is pointless, keeping it all from them. I wish I were more like Mr. Spong.”

  “May I be permitted, Lady Hardisty, to turn the tables, and express myself desirous of bearing a greater resemblance to you?” said Dominic, coming in unexpectedly with Godfrey.

  “That goes without saying for all of us,” said Godfrey.

  “Sir Godfrey, compliments do not come my way so often, that I can afford to ignore one that is forthcoming. And those we do not in theory have the advantage of, are the sweeter.”

  “Why have you come in at once like this?” said Matthew to his father.

  “Oh, well, I found it too much, sitting in there with all there is weighing on me. You didn’t any of you stay in there, did you? I couldn’t stand it for a second, and there is the truth.”

  “Sir Godfrey, I think the moment has come for me to withdraw from your hospitality,” said Dominic, as though suddenly finding he had failed in some function he had believed fulfilled. “It remains for me to thank you for your welcome, and betake myself to my own lonely fireside, there in your manner to brood on what I have lost. My comfort must be that for you the loss is transient.”

  “Oh, thank you very much, Spong. And all my sympathy goes with you,” said Godfrey, extending a hand, and dragging himself up after it a moment later. “Matthew will see you out. Matthew, you would like to see Mr. Spong to the carriage. We will have the carriage out for him. I declare I am at the end of my tether, and not a fit companion for a living soul.”

  “You really are not, Godfrey,” said Rachel. “You are behaving more unworthily of Harriet than any of us.”

  “Oh, well, so I am. So I may be. My mind is too full of her for me to behave worthily of her. People can just reconcile themselves to it.”

  “Yes, so they can,” said Rachel. “They soon break the habit of speaking of a friend as an excellent host.”

  “Why, has anyone ever said that of me?” said Godfrey, sitting up but relapsing. “Well, I am sure I don’t care whether they have or not.”

  “Your mind is not quite full of Mother,” said Gregory. “Self has crept in.”

  “Oh, well, has it?” said Godfrey. “Well, I should be a peculiar person if I hadn’t some thought of myself in these days. Well, we will have poor old Spong to dinner again some time, and I will try to be more myself with him.”

  “’Poor old Spong’?” said Jermyn. “He is younger than you are, isn’t he?”

  “I don’t know, I am sure,” said his father. “I don’t know anything about him.”

  “He l
ooks it,” said Rachel.

  “Does he!” said Godfrey, sitting up again, and this time retaining his position. “Does Spong look younger than I do? Do I look older than Spong? Well, you know, I shouldn’t have thought so. Well, I can’t expect this state of things not to have its effect on me. I am not superhuman, if I have looked young for my age. You will soon have a pitiful old man for a father. You seem to think you have already. Well, I will go and get a night’s rest, or I shall be a wreck by the morning. If I am, you won’t hesitate to tell me. Ah, you will all be ready to pop it out. Rachel, I apologise for stiflying yawns in your face.”

  “That is an optimistic view of what you are doing,” said Griselda.

  “My dear little girl, you are brighter!” said Godfrey on his way to the door. “Having Rachel is doing you a world of good.”

  “I wonder why Father and Mother married,” said Gregory.

  “We can’t explain these things,” said Rachel. “I say that to myself when I look at my predecessor’s portrait. Well, I do not; I see the whole explanation there. When are you going to take the photograph of your mother into the town to be enlarged?”

  “I had thought of to-morrow,” said Gregory. “Of taking it myself and giving it afterwards to Father. A surprise.”

  “It is a good idea to give it to Father. It will be a surprise,” said Matthew. “We had better follow his example and go to rest. The day will start with the little service, and the strain falls least heavily on him.”

  Godfrey was the first to be in his place for this ceremony, and sat with his Bible open before him, parting his lips once or twice while the seats were taken. This was the only indication he gave of unusual force of conception, and he came to the table in a cold and absent manner.

  “It was a subtle recognition of my filling Harriet’s place to make no mention of me,” said Rachel. “But was it wise not to ask for any guidance for the household? Won’t they need it especially, with Harriet away?”

  “I spoke simply the words that came from my heart.”

  “And no words for the household came into them?” said Rachel.

  “Buttermere is listening,” said Jermyn, as the door gently closed.

  “Godfrey, you mustn’t be so happy-go-lucky. You must think of Buttermere. And I have done the unmentionable thing. Well, one point about that is, that no one can speak about it.”

  “Oh, a little accident, Rachel. Buttermere will understand it.”

  “Buttermere is impossible. Looking and listening, of course, but understanding! And he will know now that we don’t have anyone waiting in the room at home. He will guess that we are poor. And I have tried to cultivate that kind of shabbiness that may go with anything. It is only Percy to whom it comes naturally. And now Buttermere knows what it goes with.”

  “Ah, Rachel, I don’t know how we should be feeling this morning by ourselves. We quail before the moment of your leaving us. Quail before it. That is the word, ‘quail’.”

  “It is an excellent word,” said Gregory.

  “Well, it is the one that gives my meaning. Quail before it, blench, flinch. Blanch, cower, wince. Shrink! I tell you what I do quail before, Rachel, and that is the course my children are taking. I look forward to the day when I can take their mother by the hand, and point out the extent of her children’s sacrifice. That day is as a beacon before me. I should like to hear you say a word about the matter, Rachel.”

  “I remember I failed you yesterday,” said Rachel. “But I have not changed in the night.”

  “Ah, yes, that is how one feels. We must not speak about it. Tears would start to our eyes.”

  “And yet you wanted me to. And Buttermere would be looking. Parents will sacrifice anyone to their children.”

  “Oh, well, Rachel,” said Godfrey. “Well, tell us how long Percy will spare you to us.”

  “Until after the working party. I have to explain that it won’t be held again. I must be revenged on the women who work for Harriet’s illness. All of them well and strong, and Harriet ill!”

  “Well, they can’t help it,” said Godfrey.

  “They can,” said Rachel. “I am sure they take great care of themselves.”

  “Who will be coming to the working party?” said Jermyn.

  “Gregory’s three, to see Gregory; and my two girls because I bring them; and Mrs. Christy to work; and Camilla because it is a kind of outing, and because it gives an effect of boldness to go where she meets Mr. Bellamy, which after all is better than the usual effect of wistfulness. And some more who have only names.”

  “And who seem not to have even those,” said Jermyn. “’From him who hath not shall be taken away, even that which he hath.’”

  “Yes, so it shall,” said Rachel. “I think the working party is all that Geraldine has. You will not come, Griselda, of course?”

  “Ah, Rachel, no one but a woman can be a mother,” said Godfrey.

  “True,” murmured Gregory.

  “Isn’t the working party necessary?” said Jermyn.

  “Well, it is to clothe the poor,” said Rachel. “Your mother had it, and we are giving it up. Things depend on the point of view. Remind me to be early, Godfrey, for fear Agatha gets into Harriet’s place. I am afraid she thinks it is she and not I, who is next to Harriet.”

  Chapter XV

  Agatha Walked In an unconscious manner to Harriet’s seat, drew up and smiled as an afterthought at its occupant, and putting her gloves on the adjoining chair, loosened her mantle and began to speak.

  “It is heartrending tidings about poor Lady Haslam. I was afraid there might be more in it than appeared, when I saw her the other morning. I was in her house the day after the dinner, and she told me a little about herself. It all seems to have come on very suddenly.”

  “It may not have, if there was more in it than appeared,” said Rachel. “I believe we all of us judged by appearances.”

  “What kind of symptoms did she have?” said Geraldine.

  “I am sure Lady Haslam is not a person to have symptoms,” said Kate. “We should all have symptoms before she would.”

  “She seems to have stolen a march on us,” said Geraldine. “I plead guilty to being a victim of symptoms at times. We are not all of the fortunate, tough kind that give no trouble.”

  “Then you and Lady Haslam are alike at the moment,” said Rachel.

  “I feel there must be some fundamental connection!” said Geraldine, revealing a complacence in the comparison.

  “I hope I shall never give anyone any trouble,” said Agatha.

  “We shall regret you when you die!” said Geraldine. “That is one of the privileges of the eldest, to be regretted and not to have to regret.”

  “We cannot foretell the future,” said Agatha. “It may bring us anything.”

  “Yes, even the death of Geraldine, as Agatha means,” said Rachel.

  “It must in the end,” said Mellicent.

  “I don’t think Agatha meant in the end,” said Rachel.

  “Oh, no, she didn’t!” said Polly, clasping her hands.

  “You are staying in the house, are you not?” said Geraldine to Rachel.

  “It must be a great thing for them to have you,” said Agatha, granting completely the deserts of a peer.

  “Was Lady Haslam able to leave directions before she went?” said Geraldine.

  “I am sure the Ladies Hardisty and Haslam understand each other without words,” said Kate.

  “Lady Hardisty, we were so afraid we were late,” said Mrs. Christy. “It is such a relief to find you have not begun. This is the last day we should wish to show ourselves unresponsive. I have been saying to Camilla that you are the only person I could bear to see in Lady Haslam’s place. ‘If Lady Hardisty can be Lady Haslam’s deputy,’ I said, ‘I can go to the working party in the spirit of effort for those poorer than ourselves, that the latter instilled into us.’”

  “Is there anybody poorer?” said Camilla. “We ought to keep the things we make
.”

  “I wonder if we really do take so much interest in the poor,” said Geraldine. “I try to think I do, but I have a suspicion that I feel them to be on quite a different plane.”

  “We shouldn’t have working parties for people on the same plane,” said Mellicent.

  “I see we ought to give the party up,” said Rachel.

  “What about Lady Haslam’s object in inaugurating it?” said Agatha.

  “The best of us make mistakes,” said Kate, sending the glance of a fellow to Rachel.

  “We prove that Lady Haslam is one of the best by giving it up,” said Rachel. “If we cling to it, it won’t seem that she has made a mistake.”

  “We don’t want to cling to it, I am sure,” said Agatha. “We don’t come to work for our own pleasure.”

  “Isn’t it a pleasure to work for those poorer than ourselves?” said Rachel. “Lady Haslam really did make a mistake.”

  “Did I hear something about the eldest boy’s going to London?” said Agatha, her tone holding retaliation rather than question.

  “I cannot tell if you did,” said Rachel.

  “There is some special reason for his going, is there not?” said Agatha. “Something about remorse for his relations with his mother? A hint of it came through to me.”

  “Oh, then you did hear something?” said Rachel.

  “I heard for certain that it was so. That there was something like a scene one morning, that ended in Lady Haslam’s rushing out of the room. And an approach to remorse would follow that, it seems to me, when her illness came on so soon.”

  “But you would have been sure if you had heard that. Especially if you heard for certain.”

  “One does not give one’s attention definitely to servants’ gossip. The Haslams are not very fortunate in that little respect, it seems. I often feel thankful I am not able to keep what is called a trained staff.”

  “A thankful spirit does help us through life’s difficulties, though I have never thought of dealing with that one in that way. And of course you must know about sons leaving home.”