‘Faith seemed to feel that she preferred it,’ said Paul.
‘Yes, but Faith knows nothing about it. And I could pay her no greater compliment. Self-knowledge speaks ill for people; it shows they are what they are, almost on purpose. And I am not speaking against her the moment her back is turned. I am not at all what I am supposed to be.’
‘That would perhaps be the safest moment to choose,’ said Faith, returning and speaking with a smile. ‘But it is better to be open and aboveboard with everybody.’
‘But we could not speak evil to their faces,’ said Hope.
‘Well, it is not a thing we are obliged to do, Mother.’
‘I like my friends best when they are doing it. It makes them so zestful and observant. Original too, almost creative. You see I am speaking good behind their backs. And you don’t seem to like it much, but I suppose no one likes to hear other people always praised.’
‘I think that would be very pleasant,’ said Faith.
‘Well, let us all praise Ridley.’
‘He has met a great mark of confidence today.’
‘That is not praise. You must say you think he deserved it.’
‘I think that trust often makes people worthy of it.’
‘Faith, I like to hear people speak evil. You know I have admitted it. But you must remember that Ridley is your brother.’
Chapter 5
‘Sir Jesse says we must continue to practise economy,’ said Priscilla Marlowe, lifting her eyes without warning from her book. ‘He says it need not interfere with our comfort. I could see he knew it prevented it.’
‘People used to talk about elegant economy,’ said her sister, also looking up from a book. ‘I suppose they meant unobtrusive expenditure.’
‘Sir Jesse says our interests lie in things of the mind,’ said Priscilla, in an absent tone that suggested that this was the case. ‘And they do cost less than other things.’
‘I wonder why he chose such interests for us,’ said the third member of the group, relinquishing the same occupation as his sisters.
‘Because it would be an economy,’ said Priscilla; ‘perhaps an elegant one in this case.’
‘I hope he is not thinking of reducing our allowance,’ said her brother, in a shrill, anxious voice. ‘Because we have cut things to their finest point.’
‘It was in his mind, but it did not come out. He would have found it too embarrassing. We hardly know what we owe to his dislike of discomfiture. I wonder why I have to see him alone. I suppose so that he may have only one third of the discomfiture that is rightly his. I ought to be sacrificed as the eldest sister, but it seems that I have three times as much as is mine.’
‘It is awkward that I am assumed to earn so much more than I do,’ said Lester. ‘My last book brought in sixty pounds, and it took two years. And I am ashamed to confess how poorly my work is paid. It would make him think it was poor work and despised. And so he believes I spend money on myself, a thing I should never do.’
‘It would be a selfish course,’ said Priscilla. ‘But Susan earns a good deal at her school, and he does not separate our incomes. He assumes that you earn the most, as the man.’
‘I do not mind being helped by my sister. I must grant her the superior place, when it is justly hers. But I wonder why Sir Jesse despises me for earning so little, when he believes it is really so much.’
‘He is used to thinking in large sums,’ said Susan.
‘He breaks the habit when he comes here,’ said her sister. ‘Perhaps that is why he never seems at ease. He does think in very small ones then.’
‘We ought to be grateful to him for saving us from penury,’ said Susan. ‘And giving us an education that makes us self-supporting.’
‘In your case,’ said Lester, gravely. ‘I could not be a schoolmaster because of my voice and manner. The boys would be amused by me.’
‘And we are grateful,’ said Priscilla. ‘I never know why people say they ought to be. Of course they ought.’
‘It is hard to be beholden to him,’ said Lester.
‘We have been glad of the chance,’ said Priscilla. ‘And it is one that people always take.’
‘We had no alternative,’ said her brother.
‘None but perishing of want,’ said Susan. ‘Three orphans from South America, the children of Sir Jesse’s friends, but having no other claim. That is what we were.’
‘And see what we are now,’ said Lester, with a crow of laughter. ‘Still orphans, but having established a claim.’
Priscilla, Lester and Susan Marlowe were aged thirty-five, thirty-four and thirty-two. They had pale, oblong faces, tall angular frames, round, grey, short-sighted eyes, peering through cheap, round glasses, and seeming to peer considerably beyond, heavy, shelving brows, from which curly, colourless hair receded, and in Lester’s case had disappeared, and features so little conforming to rule, that they differed equally from other people’s and each other’s. Priscilla’s voice was slow and apparently serious, Lester’s shrill and uneven, and Susan’s rapid and deep.
Sir Jesse gave them a cottage on the place, the services of an old couple whom he wished to support, and did so in this way, and an allowance to eke out what they earned. He never asked them to his house, seldom visited them and passed them abroad with acknowledgement but without a word; a course which people attributed to embarrassment at his generosity, though the feeling arises more easily from the consciousness of other qualities. They were used to his ways, hardly knew his wife, unaware that her hostile indifference embraced others besides themselves, had an almost surreptitious acquaintance with Daniel and Graham; and lived in their interests and anxieties and each other, with as much satisfaction as most people and more enjoyment.
‘I have a month at home,’ said Susan, looking round the low, cramped room with an expression that hardly suggested its character. ‘How did we get all that wood for the fire?’
‘We collect it in the park,’ said her sister. ‘We go after dusk, so that we shall not be seen. We are not ashamed of our poverty, but we know Sir Jesse is; and it might look as if we were short of fuel.’
‘It would look so,’ said Lester. ‘And we do not want to suggest that he might provide it, when he does so much for us.’
‘It is a good method of making him do so,’ said Susan. ‘Do you suppose he knows you get it?’
‘He must know that the coal he sends is not enough,’ said Priscilla. ‘And I expect he would know if we were cold. He seems to know everything about us.’
‘He must know that we have thin walls and no damp course,’ said Lester, in a serious voice. ‘He may think we don’t feel the cold.’
‘What could you do with the cold but feel it?’ said Susan. ‘How else would you know there was such a thing?’
‘People seem to think other people don’t feel cold or grief or anything,’ said Priscilla. ‘I don’t think they mind their feeling the heat. It seems a more comfortable thing, and it does not require any fuel.’
‘Why are we having so much to eat?’ said Susan.
‘I am afraid not because it is your first day at home,’ said her sister. ‘Mrs Morris has to nurse her husband, and cannot cook tonight.’
‘It is only old age,’ said Lester, with simple reassurance. ‘Nothing infectious.’
‘Well, not immediately,’ said Priscilla.
Lester gave a laugh.
‘I am thankful to be at home,’ said Susan. ‘We can never be at ease except with each other. No one would understand our life, who had not lived it. A past without parents or a background is as rare as being brought up in an orphanage.’
‘Is that rare?’ said Priscilla. ‘The papers always say how many thousands of inmates are admitted every year. It shows how few people behave as well as Sir Jesse.’
‘That is why we have to contribute to such institutions,’ said Lester.
‘Do you?’ said Priscilla, astonished. ‘How you prevent the left hand from knowing what the right ha
nd doeth!’
‘Not I myself,’ said Lester, opening his eyes. ‘I never spend money without saying so.’
‘We are the last people to support orphanages,’ said Susan. ‘They are fortunate in not having had to support us.’
‘I suppose Sir Jesse has been father and mother to us,’ said Lester, as if the thought amused him; ‘though no one would think it, who saw him pass us without a word.’
‘Family life seldom gets to that,’ said Priscilla, ‘or not with both the father and the mother.’
‘We have never lisped our prayers at our mother’s knee,’ said Susan. ‘What can be expected of us?’
‘Hard work and reasonable success,’ said Lester, in an almost wondering tone.
‘Criminals are always told to look back on the time when they did that,’ said Priscilla. ‘It does not seem to be an auspicious beginning.’
‘Our parents were friends of Sir Jesse’s,’ said Lester. ‘And they lived in South America. I do not want to know more about them.’
‘It seems to stamp them,’ said Priscilla. ‘I should not dare to ask. If it were anything that could be borne, Sir Jesse would have told us. And he would not mind our bearing a certain amount.’
‘He seems to avoid contact with their children,’ said Susan. ‘We should never forgive ourselves, if we exerted any untoward influence on him. I wonder he allows us to mix with each other.’
Lester raised his eyes at this train of thought.
‘It is the cheapest way of disposing of us,’ he said. ‘He gives us a house and a little money, and we provide the rest.’
‘You would not think we had such large appetites, to look at us,’ said Susan.
‘I should have thought we were rather hungry-looking,’ said Priscilla. ‘As though we hardly knew where our next meal was coming from. And we do know. From Sir Jesse and our own hard earnings.’
‘Well, Mrs Morris,’ said Lester, ‘I hope Morris is better.’
The housekeeper closed her eyes and kept them closed, while she placed the teapot with her usual precision.
‘He must have a very good appetite.’
‘What makes you say that, sir?’ said Mrs Morris, performing an action that seemed unnatural to her, and looking at the speaker.
‘You cook so much for him, that you have no time for us.’
‘I hope to give you your usual dinner, sir.’
‘If we have this tea and our usual dinner, Morris must be very bad.’
‘He could not eat what I cooked, sir,’ said Mrs Morris, arranging the table for those who could.
‘Would he like anything special?’ said Priscilla.
‘He is not used to having what he fancies, miss.’
‘There he is, going down the path,’ said Susan.
‘He can get about, miss.’
‘He is going to the inn.’
Mrs Morris just cast a glance after her husband, as if his errand meant too little to warrant attention.
‘Not used to having what he fancies!’ said Susan, as the door closed. ‘He gets more and more used to it.’
‘Well, it means we can do the same,’ said her sister.
‘I am glad Morris has his own life,’ said Lester, gravely.
‘Lester talks quite like a man to Mrs Morris,’ said Priscilla.
‘Mr and Mrs Cranmer,’ said Mrs Morris.
‘Well, my dears,’ said Hope. ‘Are you expecting friends to tea, or is this your ordinary standard?’ Her tone had a slight difference from the one she used to the Sullivans.
‘It is Susan’s first day at home,’ said Paul, whose tone was always the same.
‘I do respect the power to spend on things that did not meet the eye of outsiders. I don’t believe they are even glad we have come on them in their luxury. And I should think it such a happy coincidence.’
‘We are glad you are to share it,’ said Lester.
‘And now you do not pretend that you take it as a matter of course. I can’t tell you what I think of you. I almost wish Faith were here; Paul will never appreciate the position.’
‘Did she know you were coming?’ said Lester, simply.
‘What insight you have into our family life! No, I did not tell her.’
‘I expect she is just as happy at home.’
‘No, she likes nothing better than a little change, and she really needed it. But I needed it more, because compared to her as a companion I am a Cleopatra in my infinite variety. How few people would dare to say that!’
‘How many of us think it of ourselves?’ said Paul.
‘Do not be foolish, Paul. Very few of us.’
‘Very few,’ said Priscilla.
‘Have you been to the big house to say good-bye to Fulbert?’ said Hope.
‘No, his going makes no difference to us,’ said Susan. ‘We see none of them but Sir Jesse and the two elder boys.’
‘Has Sir Jesse been to see you lately?’
‘He came this afternoon.’
‘And you were not going to mention it! I should take the first opportunity of bringing it in. Why did he come to see you? I must ask, Paul. They don’t mind my knowing, and it would never occur to them to tell me.’
‘Partly because a visit was due,’ said Priscilla, ‘and partly to hint that we might be more economical.’
‘Even more than we are,’ said Lester, seriously.
‘Well, there is always something that can be cut off,’ said Hope. ‘But I wonder how Sir Jesse knew.’
‘He didn’t; he only hoped so,’ said Priscilla. ‘And when he saw the cottage, he thought he was wrong and took his leave.’
‘But what about the tea? Did you expect him to stay?’
‘To tea here?’ said Lester.
‘Yes.’
‘And have it with us? Sir Jesse?’
‘Yes. Is it impossible?’
‘All things are possible,’ said Susan. ‘It is unthinkable.’
‘We thought Mrs Morris could not cook tonight, because Morris is ill,’ said Lester.
‘Thank you so much; I am glad you do not always live like this. I don’t like to think I am a stingy housekeeper. I am mean in so many matters; all the others, I think; and I hoped I made an exception of little, material things. The larger ones just can’t be helped.’
‘They never can,’ said Lester, gravely.
‘Sir Jesse said that he would miss his son,’ said Priscilla. ‘It seemed odd that he should have ordinary human feelings.’
‘I shall have to do my best for him,’ said Paul. ‘He must have men about him, and he will not suffer his grandsons.’
‘He does too much for them,’ said Susan. ‘Even what he does for us, makes him think we are on a different level.’
‘Well, the things he does, giving us a cottage and a small allowance, keeps us on one,’ said Priscilla. ‘But isn’t it wonderful that he does it?’
‘Sometimes I feel I am an able-bodied man, accepting help from another,’ said Lester, expecting and meeting sympathy for this trick of his imagination.
‘We are told that giving has the advantage over receiving,’ said Paul.
‘We should have to be told,’ said Priscilla. ‘Whoever said it, must have thought so.’
‘You don’t find it so in your experience?’
‘We never give,’ said Lester. ‘It would not be fair on Sir Jesse.’
‘I always feel that being here is a lesson,’ said Hope.
‘In rising above disadvantages, do you mean?’ said Susan.
‘Well, dear, I suppose I did. But I also meant in depending on your own qualities.’
‘We are not going to disclaim them,’ said Priscilla. ‘It would be less awkward to mention them.’
‘Do mention them, dear,’ said Hope. ‘I don’t think anyone else has done so.’
‘Intellect, individuality, our own kind of charm,’ said Priscilla, with her lips grave.
Her sister laughed.
‘Why is it amusing?’ said Hope. ‘I c
all it almost solemn. I feel inclined to rise. And now anyone could just rattle them off.’
‘We could all have done so,’ said Paul.
‘I am glad you are a gentler creature than I am, Paul. I should hate you to be as hard as a woman. A husband ought to have some masculine qualities.’
‘We are quite content,’ said Lester.
‘I see you are,’ said Hope; ‘and though I can’t understand it, it makes me appreciate my easier lot.’
‘I should have thought it was more difficult,’ said Lester.
‘I don’t know whether to be annoyed or flattered by that. I like to feel I am in a hard place, but somehow any kind of difficulty seems a humiliation.’
‘I believe you look down on us,’ said Susan.
‘Well, one does despise poverty and dependence,’ said Hope, in a sharper tone. ‘You did not speak in praise of them yourselves. But I pity them too, and I never feel that pity is such a dreadful thing. It is absurd to say it is the same as contempt. It even leads to kindness, and contempt never does that.’
‘People even pity themselves,’ said Priscilla. ‘So the two feelings must be quite separate. People call contempt pity. That is how the confusion arises.’
‘What is that parcel, Priscilla?’ said Lester.
‘Oh, I had forgotten. Sir Jesse brought it this afternoon. It is a photograph of our mother. He said he came across it. It seems strange to think of Sir Jesse going through his odds and ends. One would think that sort of thing would be done for him. It must be one of those wrong ideas that the poor get about the rich. I did not dare to open it by myself.’
‘No, of course not,’ said Lester, looking at the parcel as if he would hesitate under any circumstances.
‘What are you afraid of?’ said Hope. ‘I know it is an insensitive question, but nothing brings out my better qualities today. If your first meeting with your mother fails to do so, nothing can be done.’
‘It seems strange that most people know their mothers from the first,’ said Priscilla.
‘Now we shall be able to trace our odd physiognomy to its source,’ said Susan.
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