Ladies of Lyndon

by Margaret Kennedy

  ‘There is a good deal in what Agatha says. I think his work repels most people. They have a sort of instinct not to look at it and they don’t.’

  ‘They certainly don’t. The lady on my right put up her lorgnettes and had a very brief squint and then put them down with a click, and said: “I hear Mr James Clewer is a great Socialist.” I thought that this was a new phase in Brother James, and said I didn’t know anything about his political opinions. And she said wasn’t it true that he had married a working-class woman and lived like an artisan? I said that I believed that it was. She said that was what she meant, and that she detested Socialists. I said I did too. Whereupon we talked Bolshevik atrocities, and I don’t think James or the frescoes were mentioned again.’

  ‘One of my neighbours asked me if Mr Blair was James,’ said Lois. ‘I said no, and asked him why he thought so. He said because he looked so miserable and out of it.’

  ‘Blair certainly looked sorry for himself. And so, by the way, did M. le Mari. But Agatha seems to thrive on it. I don’t know when I’ve seen her looking more magnificent.’

  ‘Perhaps she enjoys keeping two men miserable. She was in splendid spirits—so very animated. She was laughing and talking away all through lunch. Generally she leaves that to other people.’

  ‘Well, to do her justice, I think she was making a genuine effort to keep the family flag flying. She was the greatest support to us. No one in her vicinity had eyes or ears for the frescoes.’

  ‘That is so,’ admitted Lois. ‘Yes, I really thought we were safe until that awful moment when I caught sight of Mrs Cocks’s face. It was lucky that we had short-circuited her by putting her between the proper Mr Chaytor and the deaf Sir Nigel.’

  ‘I know. And almost immediately afterwards I became aware that a horrid silence was stealing over the nearest of the trestle tables. And there was Clewer, sitting perfectly mum, and not attempting to keep up the conversation. He was a broken reed!’

  ‘It’s the first time I’ve ever known him fail in his social duties.’

  ‘Yes. He’s pretty cut up about Agatha, I really believe. I suppose there was slaughter after we left them in the hall last night.’

  ‘How long ago it seems!’

  ‘Yes, we’ve lived through a lifetime of care and anxiety since, haven’t we? It was quite a game to watch it spreading. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so grim. That look of incredulity dawning on one face after another! Still we got off better than I expected.’

  ‘Oh, but Sir Thomas’s speech was terrible! I thought it would be the last straw. The manners of the English are incredible, as you say. One can’t overstate their sense of decency. They just all looked a little uncomfortable, for the most part. Very few exceptions.’

  ‘And anyone would look uncomfortable at any of Sir Thomas’s speeches. His articulation was so uncommonly thick that I began to think of strokes, didn’t you?’

  ‘Oh, but when he proposed James’s health …!’

  ‘Still he was so maudlin and incoherent by that time that most people couldn’t have heard much of it.’

  ‘Well, one or two who had behaved beautifully up till then began to get a little hysterical. Is that Mother calling?’

  Marian had come to the end of the terrace and was hailing them. Her tones were significant and peremptory. When they joined her she inquired in lowered accents:

  ‘Have you heard?’

  Lois nodded.

  ‘It’s wicked! It’s monstrous!’ broke out Lady Clewer. ‘Such a thing has never happened in the family before.’

  Lois and Hubert could well believe this.

  ‘We shall never be able to hold up our heads again.’

  ‘Very few people know as yet,’ consoled Hubert. ‘And perhaps something can be done?’

  ‘I should hope that very few people did know! May I ask how you did? Who told you?’

  ‘As a matter of fact,’ hesitated Lois, ‘we knew yesterday?’

  ‘Yesterday!’ shrieked Marian. ‘You knew yesterday?’

  ‘Yes, but we thought it would be better not to distress you by speaking of it until after the lunch party. We discussed it with Agatha….’

  ‘You discussed it with Agatha.’ Marian was so much taken aback that she could only whisper. ‘How could you discuss it with Agatha?’

  ‘Well, we thought she would be a good person to talk it over with.’

  Marian stared at them with her mouth open. At last she managed to ask:

  ‘Did you begin on it, or did she?’

  ‘We did. And she advised us to say nothing about it until after lunch today.’

  ‘I’ll be bound she did. But I simply cannot understand such disloyalty in either of you. It was bare-faced connivance! You should have come to me at once. And think of poor Tom and Cynthia having such a thing happen in their house! It’s disgraceful! And now it’s probably too late to do anything, though Mrs Cocks is going off at once to see what she can do.’

  ‘Mrs Cocks!’ exclaimed the other two. And Lois added: ‘What can she do? Where is she going? Not to James, surely?’

  ‘To James? Of course not. Why should she? Lois! Hubert! You don’t mean to tell me that James has had any hand in this affair?’

  Lois and Hubert looked at each other, and Hubert said cautiously:

  ‘Please, Lady Clewer, what are you talking about?’

  ‘Why … this step of Agatha’s! Don’t you know? She’s gone away … run away … with her cousin. With Mr Blair. She has left John.’

  It was now their turn to be speechless.

  ‘She left a note, a wicked, cruel note, for John,’ went on Marian with rising indignation. ‘And one for her mother. Of all the horrible things…. But what were you saying about James?’

  ‘That’s nothing. Something quite different,’ said Hubert. ‘This frightful news … I can’t believe it. It can’t be true. There must be some mistake.’

  ‘I insist upon knowing at once,’ said Marian sharply. ‘Lois, I command you to tell me; what has James been doing?’

  ‘Oh, Mother! That can wait! Are you sure that this about Agatha isn’t all a frightful mistake? I knew they left by the same train; she made no secret of it. But that doesn’t prove …’

  ‘The note she left for John was perfectly unambiguous. He showed it to me.’

  Lois, to her extreme surprise, burst into tears. She was fatigued and bewildered. Hubert and Marian, remembering her condition, became alarmed and consoling, blaming each other for having subjected her to the shock. She sobbed noisily upon Hubert’s shoulder for a few minutes, and then collected herself sufficiently to ask:

  ‘What did John say?’

  ‘He said nothing. He was so frightfully moved that he couldn’t speak. He just handed me the note and walked out of the room. He’d written on the back of it, “I shall make no attempt to follow her, I am going down to Lyndon tonight.” This was just after the last of the guests had gone.’

  Lois collapsed again.

  ‘Oh … On …’ she wailed. ‘Why must all this happen?’

  ‘Lois, my darling, my precious, don’t. You’ll make yourself ill.’

  ‘Oh, Hubert! I can’t bear it! After this awful day with James’s horrible frescoes….’

  ‘James? Will you tell me what this business of James is, please? Hubert! You are evading me. I won’t have it!’

  ‘Oh, well, it’s got to be,’ sighed Hubert, and told her.

  Her incredulity protected her for some time. Even after they had revisited the hall and inspected the paintings she insisted that they must have been changed since she last saw them. She maintained that she could not have failed to recognize them. When, after long argument, the truth assailed her, she became too deeply shocked for any demonstrations. Lois and Hubert waited for a torrent of vituperation, but she said nothing. In silence she left the hall and stumbled down the marble corridor into the drawing-room. They followed her, literally clinging to each other in terror of what she would say when she
once began. She had sunk on to a chesterfield, and Hubert, really alarmed by her grey colour, went in search of restoratives. She had barely reached the point of interjections and gasps when Mrs Cocks, a Bradshaw in one hand and a fountain pen in the other, stormed into the room.

  ‘There’s this five-fifty-five,’ she began, and then exclaimed with some commiseration: ‘Good heavens, Marian! How ill you look!’

  ‘James … these frescoes … Tom … Cynthia,’ began Marian faintly.

  ‘Oh, the frescoes? Oh, yes! I’m very sorry for you all about that affair, indeed I am. But listen, Marian. Can I speak to you privately for a moment?’

  ‘You needn’t mind Hubert and Lois. They know all about Agatha going, if that is what you want to talk about.’

  ‘Oh, indeed? I’m very sorry for it. Of course,’ Mrs Cocks turned to them, ‘I know you will be discreet. It’s very important that this affair should go no further. I’m hoping to find Agatha in town this evening and to bring her back with me. I beseech you, Marian, to say nothing of it to anyone else. Is it necessary to tell the Bragges?’

  ‘They ought to know what has been going on in their house,’ began Marian firmly.

  She was beginning to feel a little better.

  ‘At least say nothing till we have seen what can be done,’ entreated Mrs Cocks. ‘For John’s sake, I should have thought you’d wish to keep it quiet. Just listen! If I take this five-fifty-five, I get to London … let me see … I’ve lost the place. It’s quite tolerably early in the evening, anyhow. I shall go straight to Harley Street, and find out where he is staying. They know I’m his cousin, so they’ll probably give me his address if I’m a little pressing. Then …’

  ‘But I must go over to Bramfield immediately! Immediately!’ cried Marian starting up. ‘I must make James change that horrible thing. He must paint it out. He must do a new one. I’ll make him. It’s disgraceful. Hubert! can you order a car for me at once? …’

  ‘Oh, Marian, do listen to me for a moment! What do the frescoes matter, after all, compared with this? Could you see John for me and find out if he …’

  But Marian burst out afresh:

  ‘Oh, why couldn’t you have told me yesterday? We could have hung a curtain over that back panel.’

  ‘Good God!’ cried Hubert in horror. ‘You couldn’t have done that. It’s the best panel of the lot. You can’t hide away work like that….’

  ‘Don’t speak in that cynical way, Hubert!’

  ‘I’m not being cynical, Lady Clewer. There are some things you can’t do, and …’

  ‘Can’t I? You wait and see what I can’t do! I tell you, if James won’t alter that horrid thing I shall strongly advise Tom and Cynthia to distemper it over.’

  ‘Well then, I wash my hands of it,’ said Hubert furiously.

  ‘It’s a pity you ever had anything to do with it, Hubert. It was you persuaded them to have James. I was always against it.’

  ‘Oh, Mother, how could Hubert know …?’

  ‘Marian, I don’t believe you want me to bring Agatha back. Can’t you see that my business is urgent? Urgent! It can’t wait; I’ve no time to lose. You can distribute the blame about the frescoes at your leisure after I’m gone. You have no sense of proportion.’

  ‘I’m sorry for you, Ellen. I pity you deeply. I see that it must be a great shock to you … for you never would see…. Of course, it’s less of a blow to the rest of us simply because we did recognize…. But what do you want me to do?’

  ‘I want you to speak to John and tell him I’ve gone after her. Tell him I’m convinced it’s all nothing: all a mistake. Do try to persuade him to be a little kind, if … when I bring her back with me. However much he feels he has been in the right, do beg him to be generous! I expect I shall take her back to South Kensington tonight, and tomorrow we will come back here.’

  ‘I will see him, Ellen, but I doubt if he will ever forgive her.’

  ‘But perhaps he may find that he has not so very much to forgive. Do entreat him to keep an open mind.’

  ‘Very well. But it’s no use your bringing her back here tomorrow. He is going down to Lyndon tonight, and I shall probably go with him.’

  ‘Oh? Then we’ll come to Lyndon.’

  ‘Oh!’ cried Marian wringing her hands. ‘When I think of my poor Cynthia! So horribly insulted! Other people have scandals and divorces … but this! It’s so unusual! Nobody … nobody ever had anything like this in their family. And Cynthia of all people! She deserves it so little. She has always been such a discreet child. Tom will be beside himself. Unless … unless I can make James alter the thing before they find out. Don’t tell them, any of you! Do be careful what you say to them.’

  ‘I will say nothing! Nothing!’ said Mrs Cocks, perceiving her advantage, ‘if you will promise not to speak of this exploit of Agatha’s until I have been to town. Please, Marian! Wait at least until tomorrow.’

  ‘If you like, Ellen. Though mind you, I don’t expect you will be able to do much. But I must go to Bramfield and see James. Then I’ll go to Lyndon. I needn’t tell Tom and Cynthia I’m going via Bramfield….’

  ‘And I must pack if I’m to catch the five-fifty-five….’

  Both matrons hurried from the room, their excited voices dying away as they ascended the stairs. Hubert picked up the half-finished glass of brandy and water which he had fetched for Marian. He offered it to Lois and, when she resolutely refused it, drank it up himself.

  ‘Do you think,’ Lois whispered, ‘that Agatha really has …?’

  ‘I’m afraid it looks hatefully like it,’ he said gloomily.

  ‘It’s a pity she didn’t know how ill John really is.’

  ‘She ought to have been told.’

  ‘I don’t believe she’d have gone if she knew, do you?’

  ‘Oh, she couldn’t! A woman would have to be an absolute devil to be as heartless as that. And she has a kindly nature, I think.’

  ‘Yes, she is kind.’ Lois was still too much shocked to be conventional. ‘Poor Agatha! I’m very sorry for them all. Aren’t you, Hubert?’

  Hubert was on the point of saying that he wasn’t particularly sorry for Gerald Blair. But he had the wit to refrain, and remarked instead:

  ‘Perhaps her mother will be able to bring her back. Look here, Lois! If she’s going to town tonight, and your mother and John are going to Lyndon, we shall be left alone with the Bragges. I bar that. I couldn’t stand another meal in that hall. We’ll go too.’

  ‘But, Hubert, where? We can’t go home tonight. They don’t expect us for one thing.’

  ‘We’ll stop somewhere in town tonight, and go home tomorrow. We’ll get that five-fifty-five Mrs Cocks goes by. Look sharp and see to our packing! We’ve just time. I’ll find Bragge and make our apologies.’

  ‘But it’s so rude.’

  ‘We’ve done enough for ’em for one day. I’m going, anyhow. If you like to stay by yourself you can.’

  ‘We’ll never have time.’

  ‘Yes we will if we are quick. Do run, Lois. Just get together our things for the night, and your woman can follow us with the rest of the luggage when she’s packed it. I’ll give you dinner in any pub you like and you can choose your show afterwards. I’ll take you to hear Wagner if you want. Only do hurry!’

  Lois yielded and ran upstairs to harry her maid through a hasty packing. Hubert found Sir Thomas and manufactured a sufficiently credible excuse for their sudden departure. In a very short time Braxhall was emptied of its guests. The long table was removed from the dais in the hall and replaced by a smaller one, suitable for two diners. There, in spacious magnificence, Sir Thomas and his lady devoured their evening meal, solemnly, slowly, and for the most part in silence. Occasionally the owner of Braxhall broke into a monologue.

  ‘Odd thing they all had to hurry off like that. But they were very sorry to go. They said so. Hard luck on them, having to go. We shan’t have any bridge tonight. However! I think they enjoyed themselves. I-think-they-e
njoyed-themselves. But we shan’t have any bridge tonight. No! No bridge! You and I will have to get out the cribbage board, Cynthie.’

  Lady Bragge helped herself to iced asparagus.

  ‘Went off very well indeed, the lunch did. Very well! Quite a new thing in these parts, I should say. A unique experience for everybody there. That’s what it was. A unique experience. I never heard before of an American lunch in honour of a work of art. No more did anyone else, I’ll be bound. No! Quite a new thing. Pity James Clewer wasn’t there. He’d have enjoyed it. I like to see people enjoying themselves. But I proposed his health. I didn’t forget that. A good sort, James! I like him. I like him. Blood is thicker than water, when all’s said and done. I said so in my speech. A decent fellow. Weought-toamadeimcome….’

  Tears stood in Sir Thomas’s eyes as he repeatedly averred how much he liked his brother-in-law.

  Cynthia said nothing but went on eating her dinner. Occasionally she stared idly about her, at her food, at her husband, at the frescoes, with the same exquisite, enigmatic contempt.

  5

  The Fools’ Progress

  1.

  Lois said:

  ‘I hate to disturb you, dear, but isn’t it time you went to dress?’

  ‘I expect so,’ said Hubert without moving.

  ‘Very well, then….’

  He sniffed appreciatively the warmth of the peat fire and turned a gloomy eye upon the uninviting dusk beyond the window.

  ‘I don’t want to go,’ he said, not for the first time.

  ‘I’m sorry if it bores you, but I really think you should.’

  Lois spoke with decision, looking a little like her mother. There was already a hint of the same massive contours about her jaw. He, for his peace of mind, did not observe it for he had risen to tap the barometer.

  ‘I shouldn’t wonder if there was a frost tonight,’ he protested.

  ‘Take the foot-warmer and the fur rug,’ she advised.

  Making a final effort against the benevolent pressure which was forcing him out of his house on so unpleasant an evening, he turned on her and said: