Men and Wives Page 19

  “Well, my darlings, you have a welcome for me? You can give me that, though I have been away so long. It has been a long while. I have had to learn that lately. And you have known it all the time, my poor ones, known it as the days dragged by. Now you can have your mother’s sympathy.”

  “Months of arrears of it,” said Jermyn, keeping his arm round his mother.

  “You are right to get to work at once,” said Griselda. “There is much to be done.”

  “We are going to have the whole made up,” said Gregory. “We shall not rebate a jot of it.”

  “My darlings!” said Harriet, turning her eyes to her eldest son.

  “Congratulations on being back, Mother,” said Matthew. “It is a tremendous thing.”

  “Tremendous! Yes, that is the word tremendous,” said Godfrey, his eyes resting for a moment on Matthew. “Tremendous. Matthew has it there.”

  “And I am to have another son and daughter to welcome me. I have come back richer by two more children. Father has given me the news, and he has asked them in a message from me to be with us to-night. That is to be my first pleasure. My darlings, I have come back to love and care for them. The truest welcome for those who love you, is your mother’s.”

  “Camilla says she can’t bear to think you have had no chance to disapprove of our engagement,” said Matthew, making an effort just within his power.

  “Ah, she is doing Matthew good, Harriet. You will see that she is,” cried Godfrey, turning a glow of appreciation on his son.

  “I trust they will do us credit to-night,” said Griselda, who was holding her hands clenched. “If they fall short on one evening, what of the future?”

  “The future is yours and theirs, my sweet one,” said her mother. “I will go now and rest and change my things. What a pleasure, with my girl to help me! I must take pains to be at my best to-night. People who have had to wait for a mother-in-law must not be put off with anything, and neither must people who have had to wait for a mother. I must remember it, and go on remembering it. How I will!”

  “Well, what do you think of it, Matthew?” said his father. “What do you say to the way things are turning out for us? She is a great, noble woman, your mother, a strong, fine creature with a great heart, when she is herself. That has been our little trouble, that she has not always been herself. That was why we found a sort of misgiving creeping over us. It was a fear lest she might not come back in her true colours. But she has come back in them, ready to give us of her best. A thorough breakdown has done her good; a suspension of energy was what she needed, what her system craved, my poor wife, your poor mother! I am ashamed of my petty, self-regarding qualms. I blush for my fears and finickings about what was in store for my precious self. As if it mattered, as long as she came back safe and sound! As if it was worth a brass farthing!”

  “It was nothing to worry about, if your theories are true,” said Matthew.

  “Matthew, you do not take up a position of doubt! I can hardly believe it. It seems to me too far beneath you. Well, Griselda, you have come from your mother? You have had the post we should all have liked to fill. And you have filled it worthily, I make no doubt. Mother has found you a comfort. Ah, that is a thought we would share.”

  “She is going to rest and arrange her room. Catherine is with her. She seems wonderfully well. I have never seen her in such spirits.”

  “Ah, my poor child, you have never known your mother. But, please God, you will know her now. Our previous knowledge and love of her will be as nothing. I declare it will be something to see her greeting Ernest and Camilla. That has become a thing to look forward to.”

  “Dear Lady Haslam, it has been such a blight on my happiness, that you were not here to cloud it,” cried Camilla, at the moment for Godfrey’s anticipations to be realised. “I know so well that it ought to be clouded. Even a fresh piece of goods would not be worthy of Matthew—I know ‘piece of goods’ is how you think of me—and I am so shop-soiled. Mother was in such a fright at sending me here to-night, an article in its third season! She can feel for you in your bargain. She knows what it is.”

  “Well, I am soon to know it, and I hope I can help to make this season the last one. My dear, I have only one feeling for the woman who loves my son.”

  “There, you see, Camilla. You see how it is,” said Godfrey. “Matthew’s mother has simply the feeling for you that she has for all her children. She and I hold out our arms to you as a daughter, standing side by side, as we have not had the chance to stand these many months past.

  “You look adorable, doing it. Matthew and I are the feeblest imitation of you.”

  “Well, you are not the only pair of lovers in the room.”

  “They are useful for showing you up,” said Griselda. “I shall soon be seen in that office myself.”

  “Yes, we shall have another couple with us in a moment,” said Godfrey, “another pair to show us up. I declare I almost feel that is what they do. Buttermere, you know that Mr. Bellamy is dining?”

  “Everything is as usual, Sir Godfrey, except for the return of her ladyship.”

  “Ernest often comes in to dinner, does he?” said Harriet.

  “Yes, yes, as often as Griselda wants him. Often is the word,” said Godfrey. “I tell you we have been glad of a little outside society sometimes, Harriet. We didn’t want to be left alone with our thoughts. That wouldn’t always have done for us.”

  “My poor ones!” said Harriet.

  Bellamy came in with his smile grave.

  “I shall hold my head very high, Lady Haslam. I have had the most coveted thing in the neighbourhood, a glimpse of you. You will always be more valuable for your time away from us. It is hardly as it ought to be, as you did less than nothing for us by having it. I could not forgive it, if you were not going to give me Griselda in compensation.”

  “Yes, I am going to give her to you. I have come home to a larger family. And as my family is all the world to me, I cannot have too much of it.”

  “Won’t you let me have just a little point in myself? I am sure Griselda thinks I have.”

  “Ah, you can’t fish for compliments to-night from Griselda’s mother,” said Godfrey. “She is my province. We haven’t any attention over for you.”

  “I find it hard to do my duty to Matthew, with the spectacle of his parents before me,” said Camilla.

  “Ah, we none of us have thoughts for anyone but you, Harriet,” said Godfrey. “You see, Camilla is one of us there. Jermyn, I have not heard many words from you about your mother’s return.”

  “That is not only brutal but unjust,” said Jermyn. “You talk as if the others were engaged in continual oratory. And you promised us that silence should be the approved vehicle of our feelings.”

  “Harriet, you would have wept to see your children when I told them of your recovery. They stood as if petrified, their feelings passing their capacity and leaving them turned to stone. I had to hold myself. I could have fallen on their necks weeping.”

  “It was not a case of like parents, like children,” said Griselda.

  “And now you find fault with silence,” said Gregory.

  “Godfrey dear, it is almost too much for me,” said Harriet, touching his arm.

  “My darling, I am an idiot, I am without judgment. We will talk about our children’s other side, the ambitions and successes you have come home to share with them.”

  “Indeed, you will not,” said Jermyn. “Having borne one reference to myself, I will suffer no more. And our baser side would be even harder on Mother than the other.”

  “What is the good of referring to the better one, if you are going at once to counterbalance it?” said Matthew.

  “Ah, my dear children, it was not that you had no words to speak. It was that your hearts were too full for words.”

  “Well, now, leave it at that, and don’t contradict it again,” said Griselda.

  “How soon can I have my first little private talk with you, Mother?” sa
id Gregory.

  “When would you like it, my darling?”

  “To-morrow after breakfast in the garden,” said Gregory.

  “You shall have it, my boy. We none of us grudge it to you,” said his father. “We don’t forget the old days, when you so often took that on yourself. Ah, you have established your right to it, Gregory.”

  “Is not the dinner rather tedious for you all?” said Harriet. “Isn’t it longer than usual, Buttermere?”

  “Not according to our recent custom, my lady.”

  “Oh, we have had an extra course or two sometimes lately, Harriet. We have had people in, Camilla and Ernest, you know. We have wanted a little cheering up. If you could have seen our faces the first nights we were without you! We didn’t want the dinner prolonged then. Ah, well, you were spared that. That is one thing we can think of.”

  “Griselda gives me what I like best,” said Bellamy. “She is getting into training for a spoiling wife.”

  “That is a change you will be glad of,” said Camilla.

  “My poor child! Her mother is at home with her now,” said Harriet. “I shall be so thankful to take up my duties again. My children have not been fortunate in their mother. You shall all have what you like best in every way, all six of you, and without having to think of it yourselves. I shall be meeting Mr. Spong in a few days, and as soon as I know how matters stand, you shall all have everything your mother can give you.”

  “I hope it is not dangerous to be so fortunate,” said Bellamy.

  “Dangerous? Now, what do you mean, Ernest?” said Godfrey. “I tell you, Harriet, old Spong will be glad enough to see you. He doesn’t think my business head a patch on yours. I assure you he doesn’t. I might be an old dodderer, for all his view of me. You may believe me or not; it is the truth. He thinks I am not fit to spend a farthing. I might be the woman and you the man, for his opinion.”

  Chapter XIX

  A Few Days later Dominic entered the house with a hushed tread, holding his bag as a secular object brought on a sacred occasion. He remained leaning over Harriet’s hand in silence.

  “Well, Spong, you see we are ourselves again,” said Godfrey. “Our tide has turned. I know you will rejoice with us.”

  “Sir Godfrey,” said Dominic, not yet exposing Harriet to the reality of speech, “I could ask for nothing that would occasion me greater personal gratitude. That is my feeling upon your reunion.”

  “Thank you, Spong. We were sure of your sympathy. And I wish your wife could be restored to you, as mine has been to me. It lessens my personal joy that you cannot have your share in it.”

  “Sir Godfrey, it does not lessen mine.”

  “Well, let us get our business behind. We shall be more ourselves when that is not hanging over us. We can’t come together without these things having to be adjusted, more’s the pity. You and I must take them off my wife in future, Spong. I grudge her attention to them. We have formed the habit of getting along together, and we must put what we have learnt into practice. We can’t allow her a ruling hand where it is too much for her. We must remember what has happened once, and be on our guard.”

  “If I remember Lady Haslam aright,” said Dominic, unfastening the tape of his papers with a humorously rueful air, “I hardly think she will want much taken off her in the line of business decisions. To use what is at best a colloquial expression, I should put her, of the two of you, as ‘top dog’ in that department.”

  “Well, well, but we must take care of her,” said Godfrey. “Now, Harriet, my dear, is there anything you would like dwelt upon in those papers you have before you?”

  “No, they are quite clear. I went through them last night,” said Harriet. “They are in order and just as usual. The investments don’t need altering. Mr. Spong has been very wise in the one or two changes he has made. After all, my time away has been only a matter of months. But I don’t understand about our banking account; our joint account, Mr. Spong, that both my husband and I supply and draw upon. It is overdrawn to quite a large amount, a thing which has never happened. We have not the pass book here. There is just the record of the overdraft in your summing up. Is any of the income not paid in to the bank?”

  “No,” said Dominic in a considering voice, “everything has been paid in as usual. And the statement is up to date, brought indeed to completion for this interview.”

  “Then there must be some explanation. I shall no doubt see it presently.”

  “There would have been in some ways an unusual drain upon the account,” said Dominic in tones withdrawn from comment. “There would be the advance to Messrs. Halibut and Froude for the publication of Jermyn’s poems; and the expense of hiring the theatre and providing properties for the dramatic entertainment organised by Mr. Bellamy; and the purchase money of the lease of Matthew’s house. Those items would appear on the debit side, and result probably in abnormal depletion.” He looked towards the window.

  “Oh, yes, yes, Harriet,” said Godfrey. “Those are things I have done, certainly. I knew we should be of one mind about them. I was not able to consult you, so where I was convinced you would approve I followed my own line. It was imperative for Matthew to have a house near his work, and he couldn’t afford to take one for himself, the dear boy! There will be no rent now that we have bought the lease; that was taken into account; and I considered it was about the standard you would wish. And Bellamy’s play was, between ourselves, for Griselda’s sake. The poor children were deprived of you, Harriet. I did something to make up to them.”

  “Oh, yes, yes, my dear. I have no doubt it was wise. I only wanted to understand. Mr. Spong is right that I have a business conscience.”

  “Yes, but, Harriet, these are hardly matters for you to worry your head about in these days,” said her husband with resumed gravity. “You know we are to keep such decisions away from you. You are going to be wise. What you have to do is to let your heart thrill with pride over the achievements of your sons. Ah, when I took in what it all meant, my own heart thrilled with pride and humble thanksgiving. I felt that if I could only share it with you, my cup would be full. It is full now.”

  Dominic looked torn between his human and professional feelings.

  “Yes, so is mine,” said Harriet. “We should indeed be grateful for our sons and for ourselves. I suppose poor Jermyn could not get his poems accepted. Well, I know that means nothing. You were right to save him disappointment.”

  “Harriet,” said Godfrey, “I could not have faced it for him! He might have faced it for himself, but I could not. There was an end of it.”

  “Well, I hope it may not be the beginning, Sir Godfrey,” said Dominic. “Young gentlemen may be apt to take advantage of such a parental attitude. Now this other item, the expense for the play. Does Lady Haslam wish anything to be said about that?” He spoke with his head bent over a moving pencil, and a hovering smile.

  “Well, my husband knows about it. He can tell me anything I need to be told,” said Harriet. “Thank you, Mr. Spong, I see the overdraft is accounted for.”

  Dominic turned at once to succeeding matters, as if he had felt no intervening emotion, and the interview proceeded to its close.

  “You will stay to luncheon, I hope, Mr. Spong?” said Harriet. “We are expecting Mrs. Calkin and Miss Dabis to join us. Our friends are very kind in hastening to welcome me home.”

  “If I were to be the only guest, I should hesitate, nay I should refuse, Lady Haslam, to impose my presence on a family so lately restored to itself. But as that is not to be the case, I will take my place with a pleasure that will chiefly consist in seeing you again presiding at your own board. With due respect to my other friends and clients, the greater satisfaction will swamp the less.”

  “Well, well, it is time to go in,” said Godfrey. “We can put away all this. You would like to get the dust off your hands, Spong. Buttermere, Mr. Spong would like some hot water in the room off the hall.”

  Dominic followed the butler with an air of
being both accustomed and entitled to such ministrations.

  “The water is hot, sir,” said Buttermere, standing by the open door, and producing the impression that for many people he would have turned the tap.

  “Oh yes, yes, thank you, I can manage very well,” said Dominic, hastening to forestall the services to which he was used.

  “Luncheon will be served in a minute, sir,” said Buttermere, glancing at the guest as he left him.

  “This is a very well appointed house,” said Dominic in an easy tone, as he came slowly to the table. “Mrs. Calkin, I have not had the privilege of meeting you since the occasion when we rejoiced that our hostess was to resume the place we associate with her hospitality. Miss Griselda, I may congratulate you on your transition to a less important seat. I claim to know you well enough to assume it is a matter for congratulation.”

  “Even with your experience as a lawyer,” said Geraldine.

  “Miss Dabis, I still have remaining to me some belief in the soundness of my fellow creatures.”

  “I shall not try to say how thankful I am to see you in your place again,” said Agatha in a low tone to Harriet. “It is a thing that is simply better not attempted.”

  “I agree, Mrs. Calkin, that it would be to court certain failure,” said Dominic, leaning forward earnestly.