The Present and the Past

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The Present and the Past Page 12

by Ivy Compton-Burnett


  ‘As I think the former mistress felt,’ said Ainger. ‘Indeed it was tacit between us.’

  ‘Well, I must admit to a sense of disappointment.’

  ‘Ah, you wanted to hear of incidents, Kate.’

  ‘It would have been nice,’ said Madge.

  ‘But I should have been called upon to witness them. And that would not have been so. To see people of calibre fall from their level! But I was to be spared.’

  ‘I hoped to be called upon to hear of them,’ said Madge. ‘I wish they had something common done or mean, upon that memorable scene.’

  ‘The words apply, Madge,’ said Ainger.

  ‘Who was it who did nothing common or mean?’ said Simon.

  ‘It was only once that it was anyone,’ said Mrs Frost.

  ‘Someone who was to be beheaded,’ said Kate. ‘It would be hard to be oneself then.’

  ‘Anyhow for long,’ said Mrs. Frost.

  ‘It was Charles the First of England,’ said Ainger; ‘Charles, our Royalist king.’

  Chapter 9

  Flavia left her home and went on foot to the house of the Scropes. She walked as though she wished to meet no one, but would not avoid doing so, as though her errand were not surreptitious but her own. She was taken to Catherine and began at once to speak, as if she knew her words by heart. The words seemed to have an echo of the other in them.

  ‘I have come to say one thing to you. That I withdraw what I have said. It is as if I had not said it. You shall see your sons when you wish, as you wish, as often as you wish; at any hour or moment, in the day or in the night. I want to do my best for them, and this is my best. I should have known it, but for the moment I did not know. I have to do a mother’s duty to them, and that is to give them to their own mother. I did not find it easy, and that may show they belong to you. Take them and do your part by them. I could not give up my own children. I will not ask you to give up yours.’

  ‘I know you would not. I felt it in you. I saw it in your eyes. That is why I dared to ask everything from you, dared to hope for it when it was denied. That is why I can accept it from you, as a thing you have a right to give and I to take. I take it fully and gratefully as my right and yours. There are people from whom we can take. I shall remain in your debt willingly. I shall be willing to be unable to repay. I could not say it to everyone. I say it to you.’

  ‘I hope you will say anything to me, that you will ask me, tell me, anything you have to ask or tell. It is my wish to help you, answer you, take your help.’

  ‘I acknowledge my good fortune. I know it for what it is. It is a light across the darkness of my life, a break across its waste. I can see it in another light. And it is a relief to escape from bitterness. There is an especial sadness in self-pity.’

  ‘It is strange that we should be blamed for it,’ said Flavia, in another tone. ‘As if we should feel it without cause, or desire to have cause for it. And we are allowed to feel pity for other people, even enjoined to. There is one rule for us and another for them. Self-love, self-pity, self-esteem are all terms of reproach. The only thing we may do is respect ourselves, and that seems to be compulsory.’

  ‘Well, the rules would have to be strict,’ said another voice, as a figure rose from the hearth and moved into view. ‘My sister and I are at home in talk of this kind. We were frightened by the other. We are afraid of the truth.’

  ‘And you are right,’ said Flavia. ‘It is a thing to be afraid of.’

  ‘But it is a mistake to be prepared for it. We never know when preparation may come in.’

  ‘Have you been there all the time?’ said Catherine.

  ‘We are always there,’ said her sister. ‘In summer or winter, by a warm hearth or a cold. I expect we are like crickets.’

  ‘You should not forget to chirp. That is your work in life. You have not met Mrs Clare.’

  ‘We could hardly do that,’ said Elton, shaking hands. ‘But I have observed her from a distance and thought of her leading a life that was too much for you.’

  ‘That is the way to think of her. A someone who can do what is beyond other people.’

  ‘We have seen the nobler side of human nature,’ said Ursula. ‘And it is so much nobler; I had no idea of it. I am greatly softened. I hope it is wholesome discomfort.’

  ‘We can be cynics no longer,’ said her brother, ‘even though people will not think we are so clever. We must be true to our new knowledge.’

  ‘Do people think you are clever?’ said Catherine.

  ‘I think they must, when we have tried to make them. No real effort is wasted, and this was a real one. And perhaps we are, compared with them.’

  ‘Do we all regard ourselves as above the average?’

  ‘Well, think what the average is.’

  ‘That hardly matters,’ said Flavia, ‘as everyone seems to be above it. Can you think of an average person?’

  ‘Well, I would rather not think of one,’ said Ursula.

  ‘Most people must be average,’ said Catherine, ‘or there would not be such a thing.’

  ‘Well, let us hope there is not,’ said her sister.

  ‘I find them pleasant to look at, pleasant to listen to, pleasant in themselves.’

  ‘I am sure they are. But I do not find them so.’

  ‘There must have been times in your youth when you felt you were average or below. They come to us all.’

  ‘Do they? I did not know.’

  ‘Catherine, I hope you are not average,’ said Elton.

  ‘I am the last person to object to being so.’

  ‘Then you are not, or you would object to it.’

  ‘Is there any meaning in anything we say?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ursula, ‘a dreadful, simple meaning. We look down on our fellow-creatures, and you are proud of not doing so.’

  ‘And do they look down on you?’

  ‘Well, I don’t see how they can.’

  ‘They may think you are eccentric and unlike other people.’

  ‘Well, I hope they think that.’

  ‘So you are sensitive to their opinion?’

  ‘Yes, it is so high. I value it very much.’

  ‘You know you are quite inconsistent?’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘You see very little of them.’

  ‘It would be a risk to see too much,’ said Elton. ‘Suppose they thought we resembled them!’

  ‘So you work at maintaining the difference?’

  ‘Yes, our life is a braver struggle than many that are more recognized.’

  ‘People do not suspect it,’ said Ursula. They are too generous.’

  ‘Would you like anyone you had brought up, to turn out like this?’ said Catherine, smiling at Flavia. ‘It is time their sister returned to them.’

  ‘It is time for you to do so much. And I am to help you where I can. I am to work for your children under you.’

  ‘I say the same to you. I use the selfsame words.’

  ‘We have had the subject changed,’ said Elton to Ursula. ‘Could they have thought it was not a necessary one?’

  ‘I wish I could say some noble thing. I feel them rising up within me, but I never know what they are. And I might be embarrassed if I did. What about our influence over the boys, if we see them?’

  ‘I trust you,’ said Catherine, in a sudden tone. ‘Trust people, and they will be worthy of trust.’

  ‘So they are not worthy of it anyhow,’ said Ursula. ‘I wonder how far the principle works.’

  ‘Not very far,’ said her brother. ‘Distrust and watch people, and they will be worthy of it.’

  ‘I do not take that view,’ said Catherine. ‘I will not take it.’

  ‘I fear it has its truth,’ said Flavia. ‘For example, we used to think people would pay their debts, and now we refuse to lend.’

  ‘We give what we can,’ said Catherine.

  ‘So your trust has quite gone,’ said her sister.

  ‘We have to lear
n to give.’

  ‘It seems that we do,’ said Elton.

  ‘You are both honest,’ said Catherine.

  ‘Well, we like facing the worst. We recognize the hopelessness of things.’

  ‘And you appreciate it,’ said Flavia.

  ‘Yes, other people cannot be too fortunate.’

  ‘It is something to feel that,’ said Ursula, ‘but I am afraid they can.’

  ‘Afraid is a very honest word,’ said Elton. ‘I am afraid some people are rich.’

  ‘Riches do not bring happiness. But I am afraid they do.’

  ‘And some have happy temperaments. There seems no end to it.’

  ‘Do you think that is true? Should we not sometimes meet them?’

  ‘Believe it or not,’ said Catherine, ‘I had one when I was young.’

  ‘It is hard to believe,’ said her sister.

  ‘Have you not happy temperaments yourselves?’

  ‘Catherine, how can you?’ said Elton. ‘Have you not looked into our eyes? We know they have their own melancholy, when we give it to them.’

  ‘What of your temperament?’ said Catherine to Flavia.

  ‘I have lost sight of it. It has long been overlaid.’

  ‘Perhaps ours have,’ said Elton. ‘I daresay that is it.’

  ‘I see mine has,’ said Catherine. ‘I must try to recover it. It is no longer only my own concern. That is a thing I have longed to say.’

  ‘Things do put you at such an advantage,’ said her sister. ‘We are never shown at our best. We hardly know what it is, and I don’t think anyone else even suspects.’

  ‘I believe I know,’ said Elton.

  ‘What is the good of an impulse to rise to heights, if it has to be wasted?’

  ‘You want to do something noble?’ said Flavia.

  ‘It is not as bad as that. We only want to be known to have done it. Why should it be known about other people and not about us, when hardly anything is noble really?’

  ‘You will tell me when I shall see you,’ said Flavia to Catherine, as she took her leave, ‘or if you wish to come without my doing so. It will be for you to say.’

  The two women went into the hall and talked for some time before they parted.

  ‘So we ought to have left them,’ said Ursula, ‘but I am glad we did not. Virtue is its own reward, and we wanted another.’

  ‘Catherine is no longer a tragic figure,’ said Elton. ‘It seems unworthy of her. It is so ordinary for things to go well, though that is odd, when it is so unusual.’

  Chapter 10

  ‘Well, this is a nice position for a man,’ said Cassius. ‘Alone in the morning, alone at noon, alone until night! What is the good of a wife, when you never see or hear her? What is the good of having two wives, when they neutralize each other? I wonder there is a law against it, if it recoils on a man’s head.’

  ‘You said you might keep a harem, my boy. I don’t know how you would have managed with one.’

  ‘Yes, make a mock of me. It is what I expect. Leave me without a word of human kindness. I should be surprised by anything else.’

  ‘Then why be surprised by that?’ said Mr Clare. ‘But you need not fear I will not serve you. It is the one way left to me to serve myself.’

  ‘It is a hard thing,’ broke out his son, ‘this emptiness in my home. Silence instead of a familiar voice, silence instead of a familiar step, silence, silence, silence wherever I turn. Two women absorbed in each other like this! It is not a wholesome thing, apart from their being wives of the same man. It may set tongues to work.’

  ‘It is a long time since Catherine has been your wife.’

  ‘Well, she might almost be my wife again, now that she has a right in my house, or a right of way through it, or whatever it is she has. Whatever it may be, she makes the most of it. I am always encountering her, or her and Flavia together. I hardly dare to set foot in my own hall. They have no eyes or ears for anyone but each other. And I am left high and dry, with my children tossing a word to me out of pity. I wonder you like to see your son in such a plight. If I have no wife, I have the more need of a father.’

  ‘I wish I could meet the need, my boy. But time is running out. I have reached my useless days.’

  ‘You might let fall a word to Flavia at some time. Unless you are afraid of her. I believe a man is always afraid of a woman.’

  ‘We should be afraid of anyone to whom we let fall a word. Hell holds no fury like such a person.’

  ‘And you would think I might say the word for myself, a great, strong man in the heyday of my life. But my soul shrinks up within me when I think of those two pairs of eyes in those two women’s faces. I don’t want to see the noble souls behind them. They give nothing to me; they only tear my own soul out of its place. What I want is a little normal fellowship in my middle age. I thought that Flavia and I would go down the years together, just as I thought it about Catherine. I am not a man to go alone through life. And I get a look or a word thrown to me out of their kindness. Kindness! It is a quality I have come to despise. If ever a man had enough of it, it is I. And you are looking at me as if you hardly saw me. I suppose I must expect nothing.’

  ‘You must expect it from me, my boy. I am past being of use. I have to ask for your help to me. It is true that I hardly see you. I am in need of the drug that helps me in my bodily decay. It is kept in the drawer of the desk. I am to take one tablet, as it is said that more would harm me. My days of labour and sorrow are to be prolonged.’

  ‘Do you take them more often than you did?’ said Cassius, as he brought the flask.

  ‘I am not at an age to take less. It is a palliative, not a cure. And as such I am dependent on it. Ten is said to be fatal to us. It is written on the label to protect us from ourselves, or other people from us.’

  ‘Isn’t it dangerous to have such things about?’

  ‘We do not do so. They are kept under cover. They are necessary in certain cases. You know that, when you are one of them.’

  ‘It would be an easy way of putting an end to oneself. Why are we not allowed to take our own lives? It seems that they are our own.’

  ‘We are seen as mattering enough to be forbidden to do so. I agree we should not expect it. Human lives are sacred, and we all have one. A poor thing, but our own.’

  ‘So I could end my life by taking ten of these,’ said Cassius. ‘And I might do so for all anyone would care. It would be a shock to people, I suppose.’

  ‘But you would not be here to see them suffer it. So it would be wasted.’

  ‘So it would in a way. I don’t mean I want them to have it.’

  ‘Well, hardly enough to give your life for it.’

  ‘Oh, well, you have your own way of putting things. And I see it has a certain truth. But it is not the whole.’

  ‘A certain truth is our own truth, my boy. The whole seldom concerns us.’

  ‘This house would be a different place without me, though I am held to be of so little account.’

  ‘You would not see it in that state, however great a treat it would be.’

  ‘Oh well, well, you are still yourself. We don’t know what we shall be able to do in our future state.’

  ‘Would that be the sort of privilege afforded, things being as you would have them?’

  ‘I only meant we might be granted a wider range.’

  ‘Dead men tell no tales, my boy. And they would do that, if they could do anything. And I doubt the advantage of seeing things going on without us. You see, that is what they would be doing.’

  ‘But in a different way.’

  ‘No, in the same way, but without us.’

  ‘You would miss me, if I were dead.’

  ‘It is you who will miss me. And I do not look to be flattered by it.’

  ‘I should miss you indeed, my dear old father. I could not face life without you. I can imagine taking ten of these, to go with you wherever it is. And I cannot think it is nowhere. There would be no hope
in anything, and we cannot live without hope.’

  ‘That may be our reason for contriving it.’

  ‘I wonder what Flavia would think, if I put an end to myself.’

  ‘No, it is not your solution. You want your reward, and you would not have it.’

  ‘There is not much to bind me to life,’

  ‘But no more to tempt you to lose it.’

  ‘It would be a good lesson for people, to have to do without me.’

  ‘If you have their improvement enough at heart to die for it.’

  ‘It would be a kind of revenge on them.’

  ‘Well, perhaps you might die for that, if you could see it.’

  ‘Why should I want that so much more?’

  ‘Well, revenge is sweet, but it is not so true of people’s improvement.’

  ‘I should like to see those two women’s faces, if I were found cold and stiff in my bed.’

  ‘So it is as sweet as that. But you must give up hope. There is no way of arranging to see them.’

  ‘You must have death the end of everything. I believe we shall pass to a fuller life.’

  ‘And with your own kind of fullness.’

  ‘Well, I suppose we shall have passed beyond all personal feeling.’

  ‘It would be no good to take revenge, if you would not want it any more.’

  ‘You do not understand me. I was only using my imagination.’

  ‘Well, let it do the whole thing for you, my boy.’

  Cassius heard sounds outside the door and went to open it. Flavia and Catherine were crossing the hall, with the five children about them. Cassius stood and surveyed them.

  ‘Well, are you all coming to say a word to your father?’

  There was no reply.

  ‘Or is no one coming?’ said Cassius, in another tone.

  Toby took a few running steps towards him and retreated. Guy looked from his stepmother to his mother and did no more. The other children gave no sign.

  ‘I suppose they can recognize me when they see me. Anyone would think I was a stranger.’

  ‘No,’ said Flavia gently, ‘I think no one would think that.’

  ‘So I am a monster, am I?’

  ‘You need not be that, to be difficult to approach.’

 

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