“How I envy you both!” said Lavinia. “For your ease both now and for the future.”
“If I inspired envy, it would be for a negative reason.”
“I am thinking of Father,” said Egbert. “And so are both of you. I wonder what he really feels.”
“He has not disguised it,” said Lavinia. “You can be in no doubt.”
“It was a moment of shock. He can hardly be judged by it.”
“Well, things are comparative. I had not thought of the moments for him. It was an unusual one for you all.”
“What was it for Miss Starkie?” said Hugo. “Somehow we are not sure.”
“That is still before me. Grandma was easy; Father was obvious; you are yourselves. And all of you are over. I don’t know what she will be.”
“And I am myself,” said Teresa’s voice. “I see no reason to be different. You minded my coming as much as this?”
“I could not face the loss of my father. It seemed to break up my world. You remember I did not know you. You will not want to know me, now that you do.”
“As much as ever. Even more than I did. We all have it in us to do those things. There have been times when I might have done them, if I had dared. But you had no fear?”
“I had a greater one. And it was also as Grandma said. It need not be said again. She knows the confusion in us. She knows too much ever to be really surprised. Well, you must all be learning.”
“I should always be surprised,” said Hugo. “I am so surprised by this, that I don’t believe in it. It has no truth. It was the result of the stress of things. You were forced out of yourself.”
“Or into myself. I meant the wrong to be hidden. And in that case we might all become ourselves. I try to think Teresa is right.”
“Would you say it to Father, Teresa?” said Egbert. “Think of him and think of Lavinia.”
“Not of us both together,” said his sister. “There is no reason to give rein to thought. And now he and I will be apart. Well, you may say I have brought it all on myself.”
“We should not dream of it,” said Hugo. “And it would not be true. You did all you could to escape it.”
“With little success. This will follow me through my life.”
“It must, my daughter,” said Ninian’s voice. “And in a way it should be a protection to you. May it be.”
“She does not need one,” said Teresa. “It was her feeling for you that caused it. It will hardly cause it again. But it should not be forgotten. Anyhow by you.”
“It is not forgotten by me. It has been my support. My sense of it has enabled me to shoulder some of the blame. And so to lessen hers.”
“I wonder you have not more value for such a feeling. None of your other children has it.”
“Is this the moment for me to value it?” said Ninian, speaking sadly. “Or for you to wish me to? What might it have done for us?”
“All feeling leads to blindness on other scores. She forgot your claims as you forgot hers. You forget them now.”
“Is it the time to remember them?” said Ninian, in the same tone. “We see what her sense of them led to.”
“Or what forgetting them did.”
“Come to me, Lavinia,” said her grandmother. “We are people apart. We may be of help to each other.”
“There is none for me, Grandma. I feel I am hardly alive. I am afraid to hear or feel. I hardly know if I do. Or if I ever shall again. I suppose I shall not dare to.”
“This first onset will pass. And each one will be less. And in the end they will cease.”
“What do you feel yourself? About the sacrifice I made of you? Tell me. I shall hardly hear. I shall feel nothing.”
“The main wrong led to lesser ones. Such a thing goes beyond itself. When we break our bonds, we release the whole of us. And only part should be free, the part we present as the whole.”
“If that is wisdom, it is wasted. I can’t listen to words. I must go away from here. I can’t stay in my home. And I have no money, I have never thought of it or needed it. I can’t be seen as I shall be now. It has been so different. What am I to do?”
“What people do, who have been found out. Wait for the trouble to subside. Suffer it when it arises. Fight it, if it is too much. There is nothing else for you. And the worst is behind. You have little more to dread.”
“Father will never be behind. And there is Miss Starkie before me.”
“Oh, Miss Starkie,” said Selina.
“She has exalted me from the first. She had come almost to look up to me.”
“Well, that will end. And it is better that it should. It must appear that it is not your place. And you do not depend on her.”
“She does on me. This will alter her life in the house.”
“It need not affect yours. Do not give too much of yourself. You will meet with no return.”
“No, I have found it. Father had no thought of making any. I have gained Teresa against his will. She has been better to me than anyone but you. She has not even made light of it, as Uncle and Egbert have.”
“You wanted it taken as it was? It was what they tried to avoid.”
“Whatever I had done, I was in a hopeless plight.”
“And you wanted it greater, pushed to its limit? I know what you mean. It would have meant the end. But it would have been too much.”
“We are supposed to be better for our stumbles. I am not.”
“We are wiser. Not better. We are what we are.”
“It is true of me. What do you think of it, Grandma?”
“I am old. I have seen and heard. I know that things are done. Temptation is too much for us. We are not always unwilling for it to be.”
“All I did was to put a letter in your desk, instead of giving it to Father.”
“Yes, that was all,” said Selina.
“Many people have done worse things.”
“Than harming a father’s life? Well, some are worse.”
“I felt he would not be happy with Teresa.”
“Yes. It was he who felt he would.”
“And I don’t think he is very happy.”
“He is having what he can. It is she who is looking aside.”
“Do you mean I am harming his life in another way?”
“You did not succeed in the first. You can hardly help the second. And he has harmed yours. More than he needed for his ends.”
“You have not a high opinion of people, Grandma.”
“Why should I have? What of the examples before me?”
“You are shocked by what I have done.”
“I am shocked that you should do it. That is not speaking against you.”
“Should we dare to say it, Uncle?” said Egbert, as they overheard.
“I don’t know. And it does not matter. The trouble is that it was Lavinia. And that her trouble was so great. A dreadful question arises. Who will sort the letters now?”
“How true it is that small things can be the worst! One of us had better do it and say nothing.”
“It would be best for Lavinia to go on doing it. As if nothing had happened.”
“Unless Father behaves as if something has.”
“What are you discussing?” said Ninian.
“Oh, nothing, Father.”
“Nothing, of course. In other words our trouble. But what aspect of it?”
“Only a minor one, Father.”
“Of course. The main one is dealt with. And it presents no question.”
“This is not worth mentioning,” said Hugo.
“Then why did you find it so?”
“Pray do not talk like the head of the family, Ninian. Suppose someone should hear you!”
“I do what I must in the place. I should know the temper of the house. What is the minor point you speak of?”
“It was really a question.”
“Yes?” said Ninian.
“Well, answer it, if you can. Who is to sort the letters now?”
>
There was a pause.
“I will sort them myself.”
“Would it not be better for Egbert or me to do it?”
“For what reason?”
“It would call less attention to the change.”
“There will be no question. I am the head of the house, as we have said.”
“Well, you have,” said Hugo. “Who will tell Lavinia? If you say you will do that yourself, I will forestall you.”
“I am glad for you to do it. It will be at less cost to us all,” said Ninian, as he turned away. “Tell her also that I shall not mention it.”
“So Father is more sensitive than we are,” said Egbert.
“Yes. He felt he had to tell us. And we did not know.”
“And he is afraid of Lavinia. That is a happy thing. I am afraid of her, and so are you. And suppose he was the only one who was not!”
“I am afraid of what she feels. It must be on the scale of herself. Will you tell her about the letters? If her father can shrink from it, so can I.”
Egbert turned to his sister.
“Lavinia, you have asked yourself a question. I am able to answer it.”
“I have asked myself so many. Tell me just the answer.”
“Father is to sort the letters in future.”
“Oh! I had forgotten. Yes, I suppose he is. And I think it falls to him. But what will the servants say?”
“I had not thought of that. We never think of everything. If we did, you would have destroyed that envelope.”
“It is supposed to be good for us to be found out. I have so far felt no benefit.”
“The benefit is moral. And so better for other people than for us.”
“Did Father tell you he would sort the letters?”
“The subject came up. And he said he would do it. And he will not speak of it to you. I hope he is afraid.”
“We can hardly be at ease about the matter. I am glad to be spared. The moment could only be itself. What hours they have been! I have hardly been alive to them. But something has gone deep and will follow me. And there are things to come.”
“Surely there is nothing more.”
“The daily facing of Father. The being less at ease with you and Grandma; yes, even with you. Uncle is the exception. I don’t know why.”
“I believe I do,” said Hugo. “You feel I might have done what you have.”
“Would you have dared?” said Lavinia.
“No wonder you are at ease with me. We always are with people we look down on.”
“She has to be revenged on people,” said Egbert. “They appear to be better than she is. And she does not believe they are. No one could forgive them.”
Ninian came up to his daughter.
“Lavinia, the hour is behind us. It has been a dark one for us both. For me there is a weight of sorrow, and for you the heavier weight of your own. But nothing need prevent our going forward, as nothing can prevent our looking back. This is my last word of it. If part of the blame is mine, that is my atonement.”
He laid his hand on her shoulder and moved away, signing to his wife to follow. She remained where she was, and spoke to him across the distance.
“There have been too many words. You should know the time to forget. There are different kinds of wrong. The people sinned against are not always the best.”
“They are not,” said a sudden, deep voice. “They might be doing better now. It is a happy chance that I am here.”
CHAPTER VIII
“Ransom!” said Selina. “Ransom, my son! You are with your mother. You are in your home. Other things are nothing. My life is not at its end. The best of it is to come.”
There appeared a large, dark man, who would have borne a likeness to Selina, but for a heaviness that cumbered his features and his frame, and somehow told of failing health. He had stood by the door with Miss Starkie, seeking enlightenment as he needed it. The former had dismissed her pupils, and herself retained her place. He stood with his arm about his mother and spoke to anyone who heard him.
“The girl can come with me. My house is near. Home is not the place at such a time. It has no help for the young who have stumbled by the way. I can recognise the real wrong-doer. A wanderer has his use. Miss Starkie will see she is ready. We shall be going in an hour.”
Lavinia obeyed Miss Starkie’s sign and followed her. She did not question the decision. It spelt escape.
“I have come back to have my way. I am the man I was. And no one will care what I do. In outstaying my welcome I have outstayed everything else. But I have come to be near my home, and to leave what I have to support it. Money comes to the just and unjust. It has come in a measure to me. I have resisted temptation and yielded to it. There is not much in many lives. I can rescue the niece who has met it. She will be with me and order my house. And at the same time I serve myself. Yes, your thought is true and clear. And now I will be with my mother. She and I have the shortest future, and have shared the least of the past.”
“You know I have married a wife,” said Ninian. “You will be a friend to her?”
“Yes, I know. And I have seen and heard. And I am her friend.”
Ransom sat down by Selina, and she heard him and understood. Her son had returned to her to leave her. He had numbered his days.
Ninian waited for a time and then came up to them.
“Ransom, we rejoice that you are with us. We wish we could rejoice more. It is your health that brings you to us? You would not be here, if you were well?”
“It is true. I bring my doomed self to those who have not seen my prime. I return to my mother less as a joy than a grief. But from you I should have a welcome. Her loss will be your gain. My death will ensure your future. It is you who will have what is mine. The place that calls for it is yours.”
“The welcome is from all of us,” said Ninian, passing over the last words. “And indeed you have it. And you must not give up hope.”
“I have done what I could, asked and followed what I could. My heart has had its day. I have worked it hard. I have lived hard myself. It has to fail in its time. But here is something I can do first.”
“I am dazzled by you, Ransom,” said Hugo. “I don’t mean you put me in the shade, as I no longer notice it. I look out on a light. You bring out the poet in me. I know there is one in you.”
“Have you always been here?” said Ransom.
“That is a question hard to forgive. But I am a person who must forgive it. Yes. Where else should I have been?”
“What have you been doing all these years?”
“No one could forgive that. And even I cannot answer it.”
“There can be no answer. I have none myself. You compare well enough with me.”
“No, there is wonder in returning. And after we had given up hope. That adds to your value, though it hardly seems it should. And what wonder is there in always being here? The kind you showed.”
“A better kind, my boy,” said Selina. “A kind we feel without knowing it.”
“But I wish you knew it. You know you feel the other kind.”
“Now I am in the shade,” said Ransom. “We may be two dimmed figures. But we have the third.”
“Now listen to me,” said Miss Starkie’s voice. “You are not here to attract attention. I have brought you to greet your uncle. You will just say Goodnight and go.”
“That is not greeting him,” said Hengist.
“Well, it hardly is,” said Ransom, with his eyes on them. “I will accept a little more. How are you both?”
“We are quite well, thank you,” said Leah.
“I am glad to hear it. I cannot say the same.”
“You look quite well,” said Hengist.
“Perhaps he is ashamed of it,” said Leah. “Cook and Nurse would be.”
“How do you do, Uncle?” said Agnes. “I think you are like Grandma.”
“Do you see that for yourself?” said Ransom, looking at her.
&nbs
p; “She has heard people say it,” said Hengist.
“Do you think I am like her?” said his uncle.
“No, you are too—you are not as thin as she is.”
“Well, I am a very sick man.”
“That would make him thin,” said Leah.
“Hush; it does not always,” said Miss Starkie. “Now that is enough. Say Goodnight and come away.”
The children kissed Selina and their father, smiled at Teresa and went to the door.
“Have you forgotten me already?” said Ransom.
“We don’t go round to everyone,” said Leah. “We didn’t go to Uncle Hugo, and we can’t have forgotten him.”
“You could have said Goodnight on the first day,” said Miss Starkie, in a tone without hope. “You know I brought you down on purpose.”
“Why are you staying so late?” said Hengist, in one without gratitude.
“I have been helping Lavinia. She is going to stay with your uncle.”
“So he doesn’t mind what she has done,” said Leah.
“You will not speak of it,” said Miss Starkie.
“We don’t mind about it either,” said Hengist. “So we shouldn’t say anything that mattered.”
“You will say nothing at all,” said Miss Starkie, as she closed the door.
“It is late for me to know them,” said Ransom to his brother. “And they will not have time to know me. I shall not be missed.”
“Which do you take to the most?”
“The small, dark girl of those. Most of all to the girl who will be mine. I saw and heard before you did.”
“You could hardly have understood.”
“I had Miss Starkie at my elbow. There you have chosen well. I was not long in the dark.”
“She does make her impression on people,” said Selina.
“Lavinia needs a change,” said Ninian. “She can be with you for a time.”
“She has no choice. Where else is she to be?”
“She could stay in her home. What if you had not returned?”
“We will shun the thought, as she does.”
“What shall we do without her?” said Egbert.
“You can stand on your own feet,” said his father.
“Neither of us does so. We depend on each other.”
“Come to see her when you like,” said Ransom.
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