The Present and the Past

by Ivy Compton-Burnett

  ‘You are proud of it,’ said Catherine, smiling.

  ‘Well, I hope people think I am. They don’t despise you for things, if you are proud of them. They don’t seem to mind a low standard.’

  ‘It is important to rinse every cup with hot water,’ said Elton, doing as he said.

  ‘You will find my casual methods a change,’ said Catherine. ‘I hope you will not mind them.’

  ‘Ursula will not. I shall mind them very much. But wild horses would not drag it from me. Though I hardly think wild horses do as much to drag things from people as is thought.’

  Catherine gave her quick, deep laugh.

  ‘I could never give anything more attention than I felt it deserved,’ she said.

  ‘But food deserves all attention. And tea is an Englishwoman’s favourite meal. And her standard is mine.’

  ‘And is it also Ursula’s?’

  ‘I strive to make it so,’ said the latter, ‘and I am proud if I succeed. I am a person with my own pathos. But I hope no one knows that.’

  ‘I wonder if I am,’ said Elton. ‘Or is my pathos so much my own that it does not count?’

  ‘What does it consist of?’ said Catherine.

  ‘Of asking so little of life. Of feeling that is all I deserve. Of being afraid to publish what I write, for fear people should read it. Of being glad that I cannot afford to marry, in case I should do so.’

  ‘You would not have to marry because you could afford to.’

  ‘People do seem to have to,’ said Elton.

  ‘Would you like to marry, Ursula?’

  ‘No, but I wish people believed it. I don’t like to have any pathos but my own.’

  ‘Why do you not want to?’

  ‘I could not give a house those unmistakable signs of a woman’s presence. I do not even recognize them.’

  ‘I hardly think I gave my house those signs.’

  ‘Then perhaps Cassius had his own pathos. And I see it must have been his own. I don’t wonder you could not bear it.’

  ‘There were things I could not bear,’ said Catherine, in a just audible tone.

  ‘I could not bear anything. I shut my eyes to that side of life.’

  ‘What do you know about life?’ said her sister.

  ‘Everyone knows all about it. It is impossible to help it, though it is best not to put it into words.’

  ‘Tell me what you know.’

  ‘Let me do it,’ said Elton. ‘It is not short and will not soon be gone. It is longer than anyone can realize. And it is very brave to end it. To say it is cowardly is absurd. It is only said by people who would not dare to do it.’

  ‘Some people dare to face life,’ said Catherine.

  ‘Most people do,’ said Ursula. ‘We are talking of facing death.’

  ‘I never feel disapproval,’ said Elton. ‘It is a feeling foreign to my nature. I hardly need to know all to forgive all. Considering the pleasure of knowing, that is only fair. I can hardly bear to know it; I forgive so much. I think people do such understandable things.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ursula; ‘I am often ashamed of understanding them.’

  ‘I hope I understand,’ said Catherine, looking straight before her. ‘I hope I had sympathy. I hope I did not give it only to myself. I wonder if I knew my husband’s nature. I wonder if I recognized its signs.’

  ‘Signs are not things we can be expected to study,’ said her brother.

  ‘I wonder if I measured our difference. I was of another character. I did not look for thrust or insult. I never retaliated, but I forget none. The load of memory became too great. He did not know what I carried with me. His burden was light.’

  ‘We sometimes see the boys in the distance. They are growing up.’

  ‘Yes, I have missed their childhood. I have faced it every day, given each its own loss.’

  ‘I have said an insensitive thing, and I did not think I could. It is terrible to know oneself. I hope I shall never get to know the whole.’

  ‘Do they know I am here?’ said Catherine.

  ‘Yes, they must know. Our servants talk to theirs. I listen to servants’ gossip. It is one of my weaknesses and my pleasures.’

  ‘They are often the same,’ said Ursula. ‘Perhaps they always are.’

  ‘No wonder we do not conquer our failings,’ said Catherine.

  ‘Do you wish you had stayed with your husband?’ said her brother.

  ‘I found I could not stay. I took the way that offered, I accepted the gain and loss. Or I thought I did. But I find I cannot do so. I am breaking my word. I have lost so much, that I have lost myself.’

  ‘How do you feel about the boys living with their father?’ said Ursula.

  ‘I would take nothing from them. I have learned to measure loss. And in a way it means nothing. He is a dead figure in my heart. I could meet him and say my word. I could see him go, the same dead thing. But to his children he is alive.’

  ‘I wonder what he means to them.’

  ‘I have wondered it night and day.’

  ‘I do enjoy this personal talk.’ said Elton. ‘I know I ought to be ashamed, but creditable pleasure is so hard.’

  ‘Like rejoicing in others’ joy,’ said Ursula. ‘Though that is an extreme case.’

  ‘They do say we should eschew the personal and pursue wider things,’ said Catherine.

  ‘It would serve them right to have to do it,’ said her sister. ‘If they had to fulfil their boasts, what a lesson it would be! They ought to be made to talk about national affairs:’

  ‘Well, people do talk about such things.’

  ‘So I have heard,’ said Elton, ‘but I do not want any proof.’

  ‘If you listen to servants, you must find the men sometimes talk to them,’ said Catherine.

  ‘I listen to the women. It is some instinct of self-protection. And it is their standard I admire, their integrity of interest and purity of aim. What a good thing there are so many more of them than men!’

  ‘The men tend to be more reliable witnesses.’

  ‘Yes, and they are not ashamed of it. Not ashamed of being without creative power. No woman would be so shameless. She would have no friends. No other woman would tolerate it.’

  ‘She might have men friends.’

  ‘Well, that would be her punishment.’

  ‘I suppose some men talk of personal things.’

  ‘There are some happy marriages,’ said Ursula. ‘So they must.’

  ‘A man is supposed to eat his breakfast with the paper propped up before him,’ said Catherine.

  ‘Well, he has to quote from it and pretend he thought it all himself,’ said Elton. ‘But I don’t suppose Cassius did that.’

  ‘No, he tended to the personal. But the personal note must be the real one. It ends the interest of things, if they are not rooted in the truth.’

  ‘Sometimes it adds to it,’ said Ursula. ‘That seems to be its purpose. How it does add to it! It even does for the whole.’

  ‘Distortion seems always to tend to people’s disadvantage.’

  ‘Well, it may as well kill two birds with one stone.’

  ‘What good does it do us to disparage people?’

  ‘I am not sure, but it seems to be great good. Perhaps it makes us better by comparison.’

  ‘Do we do everything for our own advantage?’

  ‘Yes, I think we do. No one else does anything for it. So it takes all our time to get enough done.’

  ‘I have a dislike of the simple sin of saying behind people’s backs what we do not say to their faces,’ said Catherine, with a little laugh.

  ‘It does seem strange of you to have anything to do with what is simple.’

  ‘It would be a more complex sin to do both,’ said Elton.

  ‘It would be better than only doing the first,’ said Catherine.

  ‘I thought the first was always done,’ said her sister.

  ‘I suppose criticism may be honest. Or is that the most un-kin
dest cut of all.’

  ‘Well, it is always a cut,’ said Ursula.

  ‘Is it necessary to indulge in any kind of disaparagement?’

  ‘Well, it is a temptation,’ said Elton. ‘Look at your word, “indulge”. And we are only told to make an exception of the dead.’

  ‘And it is no good to say behind people’s backs what can never get round to them,’ said Ursula.

  A servant opened the door and spoke to Catherine.

  ‘Will you see Mr Clare, ma’am? And if so, would you prefer to see him alone?’

  ‘I will see him,’ said Catherine, after a moment’s pause. ‘And it need not be alone. He can come in here.’

  ‘This is more than I hoped for,’ said Elton to Ursula. ‘Is it almost too much? Can we bear it?’

  ‘How can I tell? It will be a scene from life, and I have never met one.’

  ‘I think I can face it,’ said her brother, placing himself where he could do so.

  Cassius entered the room with his usual deliberate stride, keeping his eyes from anyone’s face…

  ‘Well, Catherine, I thought it was best to take the bull by the horns. Preparing for the interview and working ourselves up would do no good. So I braced myself up and acted on the spur of the moment. And standing in front of you as I am, I still think it was the right thing. I often find my impulses lead me in the right direction. This isn’t by any means the first case of it. Well, how are you, Catherine, after all these years? It is best to ask the question in the usual way. The less awkwardness, the better. You are very little changed.’

  ‘Perhaps to your eyes. To me the change is great.’

  ‘Well, no one would know it. I don’t know how much I am changed myself. I expect you would have recognized me.’

  ‘There is little outward difference.’

  ‘Well, as I say, I took my courage in my hands and came before I had time to think. A deadlock would not have served us. Well, it is a long time since we met.

  ‘Yes, it is nine years.’

  ‘Not since Fabian was a child of four.’

  ‘Not since then.’

  ‘You would be surprised to see him now.’

  ‘As a boy of thirteen? No, that is how I think of him.’

  ‘So we are to let the dead past bury its dead?’

  ‘The past is dead,’ said Catherine, in a low tone. ‘It has no dead to bury. My sons’ lives are young.’

  ‘Yes, that is true. But they have had a good mother in my wife.’

  ‘They have had a good woman with them.’

  ‘You left them of your own will.’

  ‘You made it a condition. I had no choice but to leave them.’

  ‘Well, well, we need not go into that. We are to meet now on other terms. We understand each other.’

  ‘I wonder if you understand me. I have not helped you. I have returned to my own place. That place is near my children. I will not go further. I will not say it is with them. I have come back to see them, to know them, to break my faith. I have not the power to keep it. For years it has been growing too much for me. It has grown too much. I would rather see them with your sanction. I would not impose on them further burdens. I do not know how much they have borne.’

  ‘They have had nothing to bear, and will have nothing. But I understand your wish to see them. We can probably arrange a meeting. It is a simple thing.’

  ‘Is your wife willing for us to have it?’

  ‘Well, it is a hard thing for her, Catherine. You must see that. But she is a woman who sees what is right and does it. That is the key to her nature. And it seemed to me that this was a right thing. I do not believe in being bound by the past. So I put it to her; perhaps I imposed it on her. I may do that sometimes; I daresay you remember. After all it is for me to take the lead. And she let herself be guided by me. She saw that change was gathering. Change seems to come of itself when the time is ripe. I don’t think we have much to do with it. We are in the hands of unseen forces. Well, when do you want to see the boys?’

  ‘As soon as I can. And in their home. So that I know the truth about them.’

  ‘You can come on them at any moment, and the truth will be before your eyes. If there was anything wrong, it would be a good deal by now.’

  ‘Yes, each day has done its work. It has taken them a step further.’

  ‘Ah, you have your own way of putting things, Catherine. You always had. I don’t know that I mean so much less, though I sound so different. It brings things back to me: I admit that it does. How the stages of our life pass! Well, I will speak to my wife. I don’t know how much it will be asking of her.’

  ‘It should not be too much. It will serve the children. She has wished to serve them.’

  ‘It has gone beyond the wish. She has given them of her best. You and I should both be grateful.’

  ‘I know it. I hardly can be. I must feel she has had what is mine.’

  ‘Well, in a way you will have what is hers. You are bound to undo her work in a measure. You will do it as little as you can. I must trust you there, Catherine, odd word though it is to pass between you and me.’

  ‘You may trust me. And I will trust her. She and I should be able to work together. It is for a common end.’

  ‘Well, you are both so unusual that I daresay you will. Though it could not be said of any other two women. It has been my lot to be cast with a strange pair. It is not for me to give advice, especially as neither of you ever takes it. I declare I begin to couple you together in my mind. Well, good-bye, Catherine. I suppose we shall meet sometimes in this new way. And we bear each other no grudge. I will do my best, if you will do yours. Good-bye.’

  There was silence after he had gone.

  ‘Do you really bear him no grudge?’ said Ursula.

  ‘I have no feeling about him. If I had, it could only be of its kind. I make no claim to his sort of generosity.’

  ‘So you do bear him one,’ said Elton. ‘It throws light on the scene. That came from the depths of human experience, and I faced it to the end. I cannot be what I thought.’

  ‘I kept my eyes away from it,’ said Ursula. ‘I did not hear more than I could help. Cassius is the man he always was.’

  ‘He is not a man to me,’ said Catherine.

  ‘You are still a woman to him,’ said her brother.

  ‘Elton, do not talk like everyone else,’ said Urulsa. ‘Even Cassius does not do that.’

  ‘I will try not to. But I almost wish I were like them. I think I will be. Catherine, you wanted to marry Cassius. Did you really wish it from your heart?’

  ‘I wanted to marry. Many women do. I wanted to have children. Many women want that too. And why should they not want it? And Cassius offered it to me. Does it need to be so much explained? I am like everyone else. There is the matter in a word.’

  ‘I wonder what is bringing out the worst in me,’ said Elton. ‘It is hard not to do oneself justice at such a time; one of those times that will stand out in people’s memories. I dread the moment when this stands out in yours. And I am talking about myself, when my every thought should be of you. And Ursula is putting me to shame by one of those silences that say more than words.’

  ‘It is such a good way of saying it,’ said the latter.

  ‘Words do not come to our sister at these times,’ said Catherine.

  ‘No, she appears to such advantage.’

  ‘I have hardly realized how I have missed you, Elton. Missed you both.’

  ‘I am used to being an afterthought,’ said Ursula. ‘I think it brings out my especial quality. There is a peculiar grace in taking the second place, and I think I may have a grace, if it is peculiar.’

  ‘You both have your own place with me, as you always had.’

  ‘Catherine comes out of herself to say comfortable words to us,’ said Elton. ‘And in her situation! And we in ours, that is hardly one at all, are remaining in ourselves as if it were the proper place to be.’

  ‘When no one sh
ould ever be there really,’ said Ursula.

  ‘You are both there less than most people,’ said Catherine.

  ‘Perhaps we should live in other people’s lives, if we saw them,’ said her brother. ‘I found myself living in Cassius’s life today. It really did seem like self-forgetfulness.’

  ‘I think that is more than can be expected of us.’

  ‘I wonder if there is such a thing,’ said Ursula. ‘It is hard to see how there can be. We think other people forget themselves because they pretend to, and we assume they think it of us in the same way. There is one thing to be said for not surviving after death. We shall not know them when they know our hearts, and when we know theirs. The second would be the worst.’

  ‘I think I always know them,’ said Elton. ‘But I do not mind. I find it so surprising that no one is all bad. It seems that we can depend on it. It seems almost too much.’

  ‘I used to feel I knew Cassius’s heart,’ said Catherine. ‘And he did reveal more of it than most of us. He did not seem to know when he betrayed himself.’

  ‘Well, that would explain his doing it,’ said Ursula. ‘Perhaps that is the difference between a bad person and a good; that the one reveals himself, and the other has the proper feeling to hide it.’

  ‘I shall see my sons,’ said Catherine, standing with clasped hands. ‘Cassius does a thing when it is before him. He is disturbed until it is done.’

  ‘I did not know he was so like me,’ said Ursula.

  ‘You may see him come out in the boys,’ said Elton. ‘You should be prepared.’

  ‘I do not mind what I see. I only ask to see it. I can bear anything but the one thing.’

  ‘Would you have agreed to the conditions if you had known what they would mean?’

  ‘I saw nothing but the moment. Just as now I see only that.’

  ‘How fulfilled I do feel!’ said Elton. ‘All my curiosity satisfied. Even my questions answered. I don’t think it has ever happened to me before. I did not know it could happen.’

  ‘I don’t think it can,’ said Ursula ‘It is one of those things like Shakespeare, that could never come again.’

  ‘The force of things carried us on,’ said her sister. ‘The truth came to the light of itself. Reticence lost its place.’