At Lady Molly's: A Novel

by Anthony Powell

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘Anyway,’ said the General, ‘keep an eye on not over-compensating. I’ve been glad to tell that story about Widmerpool to someone who can appreciate the circumstances. Haven’t made up my own mind about it yet. I’ve got a slow reactive rapidity. No doubt about that. Just as well to recognise your own limitations. Can’t help wondering about the inhibiting action of the incest barrier though—among other things.’

  He moved his leg once more, at the same time shifting the weight of his body, as he pondered this riddle. The angle of his knee and ankle emphasised the beauty of his patent leather boots.

  ‘Well, I mustn’t keep you up here away from the others any longer,’ he said. ‘Lots of people you ought to be meeting. You are going to be a very lucky young man, I am sure. What do you want for a wedding present?’

  The change in his voice announced that our fantasy life together was over. We had returned to the world of everyday things. Perhaps it would be truer to say that our real life together was over, and we returned to the world of fantasy. Who can say? We went down the stairs once more, the General leading. Chips Lovell was talking to Miss Weedon, perhaps tiring of her company, because he slipped away at once when I came up to them, making for the drink-tray. Miss Weedon gave her glacial smile and congratulated me. We began to talk. Before we had progressed very far, Molly Jeavons, whose absence from the room I had not previously noticed, came hurriedly towards us.

  ‘Oh, Tuffy, dear,’ she said. ‘Do go down and see what is happening in the basement. A policeman has just arrived to interview Smith about a postal-order. I don’t think he can have come to arrest him, but it would be saintly of you if you could clear it all up.’

  Miss Weedon did not look very anxious to investigate this intrusion, but she went off obediently.

  ‘Smith really is a dreadful nuisance,’ said Molly. ‘I don’t mind him drinking more than he should, because he carries it pretty well, but I don’t like some of the people who come to see him. I hope he hasn’t got into trouble with one of them.’

  Jeavons joined us.

  ‘What’s the matter now?’ he asked.

  ‘A policeman has come to see Smith.’

  ‘Is Smith off to the Scrubs?’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said; and to me: ‘What on earth were you talking to General Conyers about? I thought you were going to spend the rest of the evening together in my little room. I suppose you have heard your friend Mr. Widmerpool’s engagement is off. Just as well, I should think. Mildred really goes too far. I’ve asked him tonight. 1 thought it might cheer him up.’

  ‘You have?’

  ‘You speak as if you didn’t want to meet him. Have you both had a row? Here he is, in any case.’

  After so recently hearing an account of his departure from Dogdene, I almost expected Widmerpool to display, morally, if not physically, the dishevelled state described by the General. On the contrary, as he pushed his way through the people in the room, I thought I had never seen him look more pleased with himself. His spectacles glistened. Wearing a short black coat and striped trousers, his manner suggested that he was unaware that such a thing as failure could exist: certainly not for himself. He came up to me at once.

  ‘The door was open and I walked in,’ he said. ‘I think that is what Lady Molly likes. Various people were talking to a policeman in the hall. I hope nothing has gone wrong.’

  ‘Selling tickets for the police sports, I expect.’

  ‘I expect so,’ he said. ‘Curious how our situations have been reversed. You are getting married, while Mildred and I decided in the end it would be better not. We talked things over quietly, and came to the same conclusion. I think it was all for the best. She has returned to France. She prefers to live there. That was one of the bones of contention. Then, of course, there was also the disparity in age. Between you and me, I was not anxious to take on those two sons of hers. They sound an unsatisfactory couple.’

  Miss Weedon now returned from her scrutiny of Smith and the policeman. With her accustomed efficiency, she appeared to have mastered the essential points of this entanglement. She spoke severely, as if she were once more a governess reporting unsatisfactory behaviour on the part of her charges.

  ‘Smith had his name given as a reference,’ she said. ‘Some man he knows has been arrested. A small embezzlement. Smith is very upset about it. In tears, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Oh, bless the man,’ said Molly. ‘Why did I ever say I would take him on again, when Erridge left England? I swore he should never again enter the house after he broke the Dresden coffee-pot. Do go and see, Teddy.’

  ‘The bloke must have been hard up for a reference, if he had to give Smith’s name,’ said Jeavons, thoughtfully.

  He moved off without undue haste, accompanied by Miss Weedon, whose demeanour was grave. Jeavons’s face implied no hope of setting right any moral mishap of Smith’s.

  ‘My mother agrees that my decision is for the best,’ said Widmerpool.

  ‘She does?’

  ‘She liked Mildred. Thoroughly approved of her from the family point of view, for example,’ said Widmerpool. ‘At the same time there are sides of Mildred she felt doubtful about. My mother never attempted to hide that from me. You know, Nicholas, it is wise to take good advice about such a thing as marriage. I hope you have done so yourself. I have thought about the subject a good deal, and you are always welcome to my views.’