by Mark Place
"His manners are delightful," agreed Miss Arundell.
Moving out into the street Miss Peabody asked: "What's this about Theresa being engaged to young Donaldson?" Miss Arundell shrugged her shoulders.
"Young people are so casual nowadays. I'm afraid it will have to be a rather long engagement--that is, if anything comes of it. He has no money."
"Of course Theresa has her own money," said Miss Peabody.
Miss Arundell said stiffly: "A man could not possibly wish to live on his wife's money."
Miss Peabody gave a rich, throaty chuckle. "They don't seem to mind doing it, nowadays. You and I are out of date, Emily. What I can't understand is what the child sees in him. Of all the namby-pamby young men!"
"He's a clever doctor, I believe."
"Those pince-nez--and that stiff way of talking!
In my young days we'd have called him a poor stick!" There was a pause while Miss Peabody's memory, diving into the past, conjured up visions of dashing, be whiskered young men....She said with a sigh: "Send that young dog Charles along to see me--if he'll come." "Of course. I'll tell him." The two ladies parted.
They had known each other for considerably over fifty years. Miss Peabody knew of certain regrettable lapses in the life of General Arundell, Emily's father. She knew just precisely what a shock Thomas Arundell’s marriage had been to his sisters. She had a very shrewd idea of certain troubles connected with the younger generation. But no word had ever passed between the two ladies on any of these subjects. They were both upholders of family dignity, family solidarity, and complete reticence on family matters. Miss Arundell walked home. Bob trotting sedately at her heels. To herself, Emily Arundell admitted what she would never have admitted to another human being, her dissatisfaction with the younger generation of her family.
Theresa, for instance. She had no control over Theresa since the latter had come into her own money at the age of twenty-one. Since then the girl had achieved a certain notoriety. Her picture was often in the papers. She belonged to a young, bright, goahead set in London--a set that had freak parties and occasionally ended up in the police courts. It was not the kind of notoriety that Emily Arundell approved of for an Arundell. In fact, she disapproved very much of Theresa's way of living. As regards the girl's engagement, her feelings were slightly confused. On the one hand she did not consider an upstart Dr. Donaldson good enough for an Arundell.
On the other she was uneasily conscious that Theresa was a most unsuitable wife for a quiet country doctor. With a sigh her thoughts passed on to Bella. There was no fault to find with Bella. She was a good woman--a devoted wife and mother, quite exemplary in behaviour--and extremely dull! But even Bella could not be regarded with complete approval. For Bella had married a foreigner--and not only a foreigner--but a Greek. In Miss Arundell’s prejudiced mind a Greek was almost as bad as an Argentine or a Turk. The fact that Dr. Tanios had a charming manner and was said to be extremely able in his profession only prejudiced the old lady slightly more against him. She distrusted charm and easy compliments. For this reason, too, she found it difficult to be fond of the two children. They had both taken after their father in looks-- there was really nothing English about them. And then Charles.... Yes, Charles.... It was no use blinding one's eyes to facts. Charles, charming though he was, was not to be trusted.... Emily Arundell sighed. She felt suddenly tired, old, depressed.... She supposed that she couldn't last much longer.... Her mind reverted to the will she had made some years ago.
Legacies to the servants--to charities-- and the main bulk of her considerable fortune to be divided equally between these, her three surviving relations.... It still seemed to her that she had done the right and equitable thing. It just crossed her mind to wonder whether there might not be some way of securing Bella's share of the money so that her husband could not touch it.... She must ask Mr. Purvis. She turned in at the gate of Littlegreen House.
Charles and Theresa Arundell arrived by car--the Tanioses by train. The brother and sister arrived first. Charles, tall and good-looking with his slightly mocking manner, said: "Hallo, Aunt Emily, how's the girl? You look fine." And he kissed her.
Theresa put an indifferent young cheek against her withered one. "How are you. Aunt Emily?" Theresa, her aunt thought, was looking far from well. Her face, beneath its plentiful make-up, was slightly haggard and there were lines round her eyes. They had tea in the drawing-room. Bella Tanios, her hair inclined to straggle in wisps from below the fashionable hat that she wore at the wrong angle, stared at her cousin Theresa with a pathetic eagerness to assimilate and memorize her clothes. It was poor Bella's fate in life to be passionately fond of clothes without having any clothes sense. Theresa's clothes were expensive, slightly bizarre, and she herself had an exquisite figure.
Bella, when she arrived in England from Smyrna, had tried earnestly to copy Theresa's elegance at an inferior price and cut. Dr. Tanios, who was a big, bearded, jolly looking man, was talking to Miss Arundell. His voice was warm and full--an attractive voice that charmed a listener almost against his or her will. Almost in spite of herself, it charmed Miss Arundell. Miss Lawson was fidgeting a good deal. She jumped up and down, handing plates, fussing over the tea table. Charles, whose manners were excellent, rose more than once to help her, but she expressed no gratitude. When, after tea, the party went out to make a tour of the garden Charles murmured to his sister: "Lawson doesn't like me. Odd, isn't it?"
Theresa said mockingly: "Very odd. So there is one person who can withstand your fatal fascination?"
Charles grinned--an engaging grin--and said: "Lucky it's only Lawson...."
In the garden Miss Lawson walked with Mrs. Tanios and asked her questions about the children. Bella Tanios's rather drab face lighted up. She forgot to watch Theresa. She talked eagerly and animatedly. Mary had said such a quaint thing on the boat.... She found Minnie Lawson a most sympathetic listener. Presently a fair-haired young man with a solemn face and pince-nez was shown into the garden from the house. He looked rather embarrassed. Miss Arundell greeted him politely. Theresa said: "Hallo, Rex!" She slipped an arm through his. They wandered away.
Charles made a face. He slipped away to have a word with the gardener, an ally of his from old days. When Miss Arundell re-entered the house Charles was playing with Bob. The dog stood at the top of the stairs, his ball in his mouth, his tail gently wagging.
"Come on, old man," said Charles.
Bob sank down on his haunches, nosed his ball slowly and slowly nearer the edge. As he finally bunted it over he sprang to his feet in great excitement. The ball bumped slowly down the stairs. Charles caught it and tossed it up to him. Bob caught it neatly in his mouth. The performance was repeated.
"Regular game of his, this," said Charles.
Emily Arundell smiled. "He'll go on for hours," she said.
She turned into the drawing-room and Charles followed her. Bob gave a disappointed bark. Glancing through the window, Charles said: "Look at Theresa and her young man. They are an odd couple!" "You think Theresa is really serious over this?"
"Oh, she's crazy about him!" said Charles with confidence. "Odd taste, but there it is. I think it must be the way he looks at her, as though she were a scientific specimen and not a live woman. That's rather a novelty for Theresa. Pity the fellow's so poor. Theresa's got expensive tastes." Miss Arundell said drily: "I've no doubt she can change her way of living--if she wants to! And after all she has her own income." "Eh? Oh, yes, yes, of course." Charles shot an almost guilty look at her.
That evening, as the others were assembled in the drawing-room waiting to go in to dinner, there was a scurry and a burst of profanity on the stairs. Charles entered with his face rather red. "Sorry, Aunt Emily, am I late? That dog of yours nearly made me take the most frightful toss. He'd left that ball of his on the top of the stairs." "Careless little doggie," cried Miss Lawson, bending down to Bob. Bob looked at her contemptuously and turned his head away.
"I know," said Miss A
rundell. "It's most dangerous. Minnie, fetch the ball and put it away." Miss Lawson hurried out. Dr. Tanios monopolized the conversation at the dinner table most of the time. He told amusing stories of his life in Smyrna. The party went to bed early. Miss Lawson carrying wool, spectacles, a large velvet bag and a book accompanied her employer to her bedroom chattering happily.
"Really most amusing. Dr. Tanios. He is such good company! Not that I should quite care for that kind of life myself.... One would have to boil the water, I expect.... And goat's milk, perhaps--such a disagreeable taste--" Miss Arundell snapped: "Don't be a fool, Minnie. You told Ellen to call me at half-past six?"
"Oh, yes. Miss Arundell. I said no tea, but don't you think it might be wiser-- You know, the vicar at Southbridge--a most conscientious man, told me distinctly that there was no obligation to come fasting--" Once more Miss Arundell cut her short. "I've never yet taken anything before Early Service and I'm not going to begin now. You can do as you like."
"Oh, no--I didn't mean--I'm sure--" Miss Lawson was flustered and upset. "Take Bob's collar off," said Miss Arundell.
The slave hastened to obey. Still trying to please, she said: "Such a pleasant evening. They all seem so pleased to be here."
"Hmph," said Emily Arundell. "All here for what they can get." "Oh, dear Miss Arundell"
"My good Minnie, I'm not a fool, whatever else I am! I just wonder which of them will open the subject first." She was not long left in doubt on that point. She and Miss Lawson returned from attending Early Service just after nine. Dr. and Mrs. Tanios were in the dining-room, but there were no signs of the two Arundell’s. After breakfast, when the others had left. Miss Arundell sat on, entering up some accounts in a little book. Charles entered the room about ten. "Sorry I'm late. Aunt Emily. But Theresa's worse. She's not unclosed an eyelid yet."
"At half-past ten breakfast will be cleared away," said Miss Arundell. "I know it is the fashion not to consider servants nowadays, but that is not the case in my house."
"Good. That's the true diehard spirit!" Charles helped himself to kidneys and sat down beside her. His grin, as always, was very attractive. Emily Arundell soon found herself smiling indulgently at him. Emboldened by this sign of favour, Charles plunged.
"Look here. Aunt Emily, sorry to bother you, but I'm in the devil of a hole. Can you possibly help me out? A hundred would do it." His aunt's face was not encouraging. A certain grimness showed itself in her expression. Emily Arundell was not afraid of speaking her mind. She spoke it. Miss Lawson bustling across the hall almost collided with Charles as he left the dining-room. She glanced at him curiously. She entered the dining-room to find Miss Arundell sitting very upright with a flushed face.
II The Relations
Charles ran lightly up the stairs and tapped on his sister's door. Her answering "Come in" came promptly and he entered. Theresa was sitting up in bed yawning. Charles took a seat on the bed.
"What a decorative female you are, Theresa," he remarked appreciatively.
Theresa said sharply: "What's the matter?" Charles grinned.
"Sharp, aren't you? Well, I stole a march on you, my girl! Thought I'd make my touch before you got to work."
"Well?" Charles spread his hands downwards in negation.
"Nothing doing! Aunt Emily ticked me off good and proper. She intimated that she was under no illusions as to why her affectionate family had gathered round her! And she also intimated that the said affectionate family would be disappointed. Nothing being handed out but affection—and not so much of that."
"You might have waited a bit," said Theresa drily.
Charles grinned again. "I was afraid you or Tanios might get in ahead of me. I'm sadly afraid, Theresa my sweet, that there'll be nothing doing this time. Old Emily is by no means a fool."
"I never thought she was."
"I even tried to put the wind up her."
"What d'you mean?" asked his sister sharply.
"Told her she was going about it the right way to get bumped off. After all, she can't take the dibs to heaven with her. Why not loosen up a bit?"
"Charles, you are a fool!"
"No, I'm not. I'm a bit of a psychologist in my way. It's never a bit of good sucking up to the old girl. She much prefers you to stand up to her. And after all, I was only talking sense. We get the money when she dies—she might just as well part with a little beforehand! Otherwise the temptation to help her out of the way might become over-whelming."
"Did she see your point?" asked Theresa, her delicate mouth curling up scornfully.
"I'm not sure. She didn't admit it. Just thanked me rather nastily for my advice and said she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. 'Well,' I said, 'I've warned you.' 'I'll remember it,' she said."
Theresa said angrily: "Really, Charles, you are an utter fool."
"Damn it all, Theresa, I was a bit ratty myself! The old girl's rolling--simply rolling. I bet she doesn't spend a tenth part of her income--what has she got to spend it on, anyway? And here we are--young, able to enjoy life--and to spite us she's capable of living to a hundred.... I want my fun now.... So do you...." Theresa nodded.
She said in a low, breathless voice: "They don't understand--old people don't... they can't.... They don't know what it is to live!" Brother and sister were silent for some minutes. Charles got up. "Well, my love, I wish you better success than I've had. But I rather doubt it." Theresa said: "I'm rather counting on Rex to do the trick. If I can make old Emily realize how brilliant he is, and how it matters terrifically that he should have his chance and not have to sink into a rut as a general practitioner... Oh, Charles, a few thousands of capital just at this minute would make all the difference in the world to our lives!" "Hope you get it, but I don't think you will. You've got through a bit too much capital in riotous living in your time. I say, Theresa, you don't think the dreary Bella or the dubious Tanios will get anything, do you?"
"I don't see that money would be any good to Bella. She goes about looking like a rag bag and her tastes are purely domestic."
"Oh, well," said Charles vaguely. "I expect she wants things for those unprepossessing children of hers, schools, and plates for their front teeth and music lessons. And anyway it isn't Bella--it's Tanios. I bet he's got a nose for money all right! Trust a Greek for that. You know he's got through most of Bella's? Speculated with it and lost it all."
"Do you think he'll get something out of old Emily?"
"He won't if I can prevent him," said Charles grimly.
He left the room and wandered downstairs. Bob was in the hall. He fussed up to Charles agreeably. Dogs liked Charles. He ran towards the drawing-room door and looked back at Charles.
"What's the matter?" said Charles, strolling after him.
Bob hurried into the drawing-room and sat down expectantly by a small bureau. Charles strolled over to him.
"What's it all about?" Bob wagged his tail, looked hard at the drawers of the bureau and uttered an appealing squeak.
"Want something that's in here?" Charles pulled open the top drawer. His eyebrows rose.
"Dear, dear," he said.
At one side of the drawer was a little pile of treasury notes. Charles picked up the bundle and counted them. With a grin he removed three one pound notes and two ten shilling ones and put them in his pocket. He replaced the rest of the notes carefully in the drawer where he had found them.
"That was a good idea. Bob," he said.
"Your uncle Charles will be able at any rate to cover expenses. A little ready cash always comes in handy." Bob uttered a faint reproachful bark as Charles shut the drawer.
"Sorry, old man," Charles apologized. He opened the next drawer. Bob's ball was in the corner of it. He took it out.
"Here you are. Enjoy yourself with it." Bob caught the ball, trotted out of the room and presently bump, bump, bump, was heard down the stairs. Charles strolled out into the garden. It was a fine sunny morning with a scent of lilac. Miss Arundell had Dr. Tanios by her
side. He was speaking of the advantage of an English education--a good education--for children and how deeply he regretted that he could not afford such a luxury for his own children. Charles smiled with satisfied malice. He joined in the conversation in a lighthearted manner, turning it adroitly into entirely different channels. Emily Arundell smiled at him quite amiably. He even fancied that she was amused by his tactics and was subtly encouraging them.
Charles's spirits rose. Perhaps, after all before he left-- Charles was an incurable optimist. Dr. Donaldson called for Theresa in his car that afternoon and drove her to Worthem Abbey, one of the local beauty spots. They wandered away from the Abbey itself into the woods. There Rex Donaldson told Theresa at length about his theories and some of his recent experiments. She understood very little, but listened in a spellbound manner, thinking to herself: "How clever Rex is--and how absolutely adorable!" Her fiance paused once and said rather doubtfully: "I'm afraid this is dull stuff for you, Theresa."
"Darling, it's too thrilling," said Theresa firmly. "Go on. You take some of the blood of the infected rabbit--" Dr. Donaldson went on. Presently Theresa said with a sigh: "Your work means a terrible lot to you, my sweet."
"Naturally," said Dr. Donaldson. It did not seem at all natural to Theresa. Very few of her friends did any work at all, and if they did they made extremely heavy weather about it. She thought, as she had thought once or twice before, how singularly unsuitable it was that she should have fallen in love with Rex Donaldson. Why did these things, these ludicrous and amazing madnesses, happen to one? A profitless question. This had happened to her. She frowned, wondering at herself. Her crowd had been so gay--so cynical. Love affairs were necessary to life of course, but why take them seriously? One loved and passed on. But this feeling of hers for Rex Donaldson was different; it went deeper. She felt instinctively that here there would be no passing on.... Her need of him was simple and profound. Everything about him fascinated her. His calmness and detachment so different from her own hectic, grasping life, the clear, logical coldness of his scientific mind, and something else, imperfectly understood, a secret force in the man masked by his unassuming slightly pedantic manner, but which she nevertheless felt and sensed instinctively.
