Two Worlds and Their Ways

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Two Worlds and Their Ways Page 29

by Ivy Compton-Burnett


  “I am sure of it, Miss James. And quite right too. It would be very wrong if it did not. I hope Miss Tuke has a fair deal, I am sure.”

  “I did not mean to imply that she had not, Sir Roderick. Unfairness did not come into my mind. I was only making a sort of generalisation, a thing that perhaps one should not do, as it may result in a false impression.”

  “We are too ready to deduce the particular from the general.”

  “Exactly, Sir Roderick. Those would be my very words.”

  “But they were not,” murmured Bacon.

  “You make me feel that Sefton must be dull without you all,” said Maria. “Do you think his life is a dreary one?”

  “No,” said Sturgeon, seeing it as consisting of days like the present one. “But it could not always be a holiday.”

  “Every day at home would be a half-holiday at school,” said Sefton.

  “The hours at school are too long,” said his father.

  “Yes, they are,” said Bacon.

  “You would learn more in shorter ones. Or you would learn as much.”

  “No, we should learn less. But we should like it better. People do not so much like to learn.”

  “I cannot think how your parents can part with you all,” said Maria.

  “It is for our good,” said Holland. “They have to make the sacrifice.”

  “And you are grateful to them?”

  “Yes,” said three voices on a dutiful note.

  “And are they grateful to you for being such good boys?”

  “No,” said Bacon, opening his eyes.

  “You do not have much trouble, do you, Miss James?” said Sir Roderick. “And the credit for that is largely yours, I am sure.”

  “Well, things are not always quite as the moment may suggest. There are two sides to every picture, and more than that to the nature of boys.”

  “And if anyone knows all sides of it, you do.”

  “Well, I have got to the stage when they seem to repeat themselves, and that probably shows that my knowledge is pretty complete.”

  “What would you all do without Miss James?” said Sir Roderick, with a faint note of reproach.

  “Even the masters could not do without her,” said Sturgeon.

  “Do you think I am wrong to take Sefton away from school, Miss James?” said Maria.

  “Yes, in the sense of mistaken, Lady Shelley.”

  “My wife acts first, and asks advice afterwards,” said Sir Roderick. “What she wants is support of her own opinion, and she cannot always have it.”

  “I am afraid I am rather an uncompromising person to face with a straight question, Sir Roderick. I am likely to give a straight answer. I think that shows more respect for the person who asks it. People are apt to say the right thing, to feel they can do nothing, and may as well present themselves in a welcome light. But I do not claim to be a person who oils the wheels of the world. It might be better if I were; I make no claim.”

  “Does she make none?” said Bacon.

  “Ah, you are a brave girl, my dear,” said Mr. Firebrace, in an automatic manner.

  The boys met each other’s eyes.

  “She cannot help what the old man said,” said Bacon.

  There was a sound of people’s entering the house, and Oliver came into the room accompanied by Mr. Spode.

  “Why, Mr. Spode, this is a pleasure indeed,” said Sir Roderick. “We hardly felt we could hope for it.”

  “Why, my boy, my boy,” said Mr. Firebrace, rising and advancing with outstretched hands.

  “I have come to conduct our party home. Cassidy felt that Miss James should have an escort. It came to him after she had gone.”

  “Well, her companions are young to be seen in that light,” said Sir Roderick.

  “The dusk is gathering,” said Mr. Spode on his deeper note.

  “Well, I am not sorry to see you, Mr. Spode. I will not claim to be,” said Miss James, rising as she voiced her welcome. “As you say, it is getting dusk, and reminding us that our pleasant day is at an end. And very young people are not more manageable after excitement.”

  Mr. Spode almost glanced at the young people involved.

  “You have not met my wife,” said Sir Roderick. “She was not with us the last time you were here. I am glad for you to know each other.”

  “Why, we already do that,” said Mr. Spode, advancing to Maria. “We met in that jeweller’s shop behind the school. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was selling an earring, and you were to provide one like it. They made a pair, and the transaction was a great success. And I was given another here to take the place of the first. So they all came from this house. You must have had a collection of them. My mother was grateful for the earring, sir. She told me to say, if I saw you, that she would never part with it. And that means a great deal from her, as it is her nature to part with things.”

  “I hope she will put it to any use she likes,” said Mr. Firebrace.

  “Did you have it adapted, before you gave it to her?” said Oliver.

  “No,” said Mr. Spode. “That is a thing that is never done.”

  “Sit down and have some tea, Mr. Spode,” said Maria, in her usual tones, keeping her eyes on the guest. “We will have it fresh in a moment. I hope you are not in a hurry to leave us.”

  “Mr. Spode will have to—I am afraid our train is due in half an hour,” said Miss James. “I expect he had his tea before he came.”

  “It was doled out to me at an early hour.”

  “It sounds as if it might be supplemented,” said Sir Roderick, “I hope there is time for that.”

  “Was it not enough?” said Miss James. “Not that I should broach our domestic problems here. But I expect you had a little tray to yourself.”

  “That is what it was. And solitude is not completely satisfying, though I find it so up to a point. But you are right that we should go.”

  “Well, we must bow to necessity,” said Sir Roderick. “We will depend on better fortune another time.”

  “We might well have it,” murmured Oliver.

  “Your cap, Sturgeon,” said Mr. Spode.

  “On my head, sir,” said Sturgeon, putting up his hand.

  Mr. Spode did not contradict him, and he snatched off the cap.

  “Now, boys,” said Miss James.

  “Thank you very much,” said Bacon, shaking hands with Maria.

  “Thank you very much for our happy day,” said Holland.

  “Thank you,” said Sturgeon, looking down and twirling the cap.

  “I should like to kiss you all,” said Maria, on a faintly reckless note.

  Mr. Spode looked surprised, but glanced at the boys, as if they were available for any purpose of hers.

  “But I suppose I must not.”

  “No,” said Bacon. “But thank you very much for it all.”

  “I don’t mind,” murmured Sturgeon, and flushed as Maria did not hear, and his companions did.

  “Thank you once again,” said Holland.

  Miss James was handed into the carriage. Mr. Spode settled himself at her side, as though his obligations ended here. Miss James leaned across him and directed the boys to seats. As the carriage followed the curve of the drive, Juliet came from some bushes and hurried into the house.

  “I am here in time to conduct the scene. I did not know Mr. Spode was coming. Lucius sent him as an afterthought, and I was not in time to prevent it. I caught the quick train and got the guard to stop it for me. I got out of the cab at the gates and waited in the bushes until they had gone. I hope the scene has not broken. I have told you enough, for you to give it all your minds.”

  There was a pause.

  “Yes, do what you can for us, my dear,” said Mr. Firebrace. “We do need some help.”

  “Come and join us at the fire, my pretty,” said Sir Roderick to his wife.

  “So you are worthy of the name of a man, Roderick,” said Juliet. “I thought you would be, but one can never b
e quite sure. As there is no problem for you, there is none for anyone; for Maria least of all. How much do you know, and how much do you want to be told? There must be the questions, and the answers can be quick and complete. The whole truth can be revealed.”

  The questions came uncertainly, Mr. Firebrace’s the most direct and full. Juliet answered them simply, without explanation or comment. Sir Roderick kept his eyes down, now and then raising them openly to his wife. He was the only person who asked none.

  “I had heard of a woman’s power of sacrifice,” said Oliver, “but I had not met an example of it. I had come to wonder if it existed. And Maria, of all people, to sacrifice her principles! Perhaps it is an instance of the supreme sacrifice. I had heard of that too.”

  “My dear, good wife!” said Sir Roderick.

  “This is what I hoped,” said Juliet. “My anxiety was simply lest Maria should not have enough praise. The danger seemed to be that people might be grudging with it. But you are all on my own level, the especial level I had arranged for the situation. We are all on it together, and of course Maria as well.”

  Maria covered her face and broke into weeping.

  “Come, come, my dear,” said Mr. Firebrace, “it is not so much. You had not enough money to pay for the farm, though you had thought and saved to get it. The trinket was serving no purpose, and served that one of yours. You were doing no harm to anyone, and good to your husband. That is how you saw it. And a woman does not see the abstract principles behind.”

  “Of course she does,” said Maria, without lifting her head. “She sees them as much as a man, and often acts on them more. I knew I was doing a dishonest thing. I simply yielded to temptation. I meant at first to tell you of the earring in the shop, and suggest that you should send your own. What I did was an afterthought.”

  “What a light thing it sounds!” said Oliver. “And that is what it is, of course.”

  “I reproached my poor children for their innocent deception. I was indeed the person to blame them!”

  “Children are always reproached for doing what we do ourselves. What else could they be reproached for? They must have some bringing-up, and that consists of reproach. A term as a schoolmaster shows you that. And without it they would yield too much to their instincts. You see we yield enough, as it is. I do not mean Maria, of course. She yielded to just the right extent.”

  Sir Roderick took one of his wife’s hands from her face, and held it in his. His face was dark and set, and might have belied his action, if she had seen it. But he knew that she did not see.

  “Aunt Juliet is the heroine of the story,” said Oliver. “If it were written, it would bear her name. She is the only person who has lost anything. But I gather she has one earring left. Who would have thought one pair would go so far? No wonder Spode thought we had a collection. You would think the pair bred.”

  “The earrings are the chief sufferers,” said Lesbia, speaking for the first time. “They have lost the name of being unique, when they have every right to it.”

  “It is a trivial sort of a tale,” said Mr. Firebrace.

  “What a shallow word!” said his grandson. “When the facts are trivial, and it is itself rooted in the depths. It is the sort of thing that is a test, and you have failed.”

  “Of course we ought to pay the debt to Juliet,” said Maria. “But she would not consent.”

  “I think we may leave Juliet in her place,” said Sir Roderick. “It carries its reward.”

  “Father, I never thought to hear you say a mean thing.”

  “But we seem to get things out of the position,” said Maria.

  “And so we do,” said her stepson. “Everything has its bright side. Why should this be an exception, though I should almost have thought it might be? Father has the farm. You have the honour of giving it to him, and many other kinds of honour. Aunt Juliet has her own kind. Spode has an earring for his mother. I have had interest and excitement; it is dreadful, but I have had them; and Grandpa has too. The children will have understanding. I do not know what Aunt Lesbia has had.”

  “I have had a shock, Oliver,” said Lesbia, with quiet distinctness. “And I do not think I am paying any less tribute to Maria than the rest of you, when I say that.”

  “I think you are,” said Oliver.

  “So, Miss Petticoat, you have been in the room all the time?” said Sir Roderick.

  “Well, Sir Roderick, I did not know what to do. I was following the children upstairs, when Mrs. Cassidy arrived; and I paused to say the conventional things, and found myself involved in the group before I knew. I could not escape without attracting attention, and it seemed better to avoid that. No one seemed to notice me, and I hoped I was such a familiar figure, that I should not be noticed any more than the furniture——”

  There was silence, as it was realised that this had largely been the case.

  “Oh, come, Miss Petticoat, you are more to us than that,” said Sir Roderick. “And as regards discretion, we can rely on you as much—you will not betray us any more than … than as you say.”

  “Need you ask, Sir Roderick? Am I a stranger to you?”

  “Of course she is not,” murmured Juliet. “She has told him what she is.”

  “And he seemed to follow her,” said Oliver.

  “Do you feel you can remain with me, Miss Petticott?” said Maria.

  “Do not hurt me, Lady Shelley. What do I know of your mutual lives, or of your claims upon each other?”

  “That is a wise word,” said Mr. Firebrace. “After all I have taken here, anything that is mine is theirs.”

  “He gave what was his to Spode,” murmured Oliver. “But it is nice to give it twice, so ungrudging. How the best is being brought out of everyone! Generally it only comes out of one person, as it did out of Maria.”

  “Miss Petticott knows better,” said Maria. “And I am glad she does. If she did not, I could not leave the children in her hands.”

  “Poor Miss Petticott! A middle course is so unrewarding. Or anyhow so unrewarded.”

  “I do not ask reward, Mr. Shelley.”

  “But you have it, Miss Petticoat,” said Sir Roderick, in a rather loud tone. “In our trust and affection and the other things worth having.”

  “Father, do think what you are saying,” said Oliver. “We shall not know where to look.”

  “I wish Lucius was here,” said Juliet. “We could depend so upon his silence.”

  “It would be no good to us,” said her nephew. “Silence never does what has to be done. It would not show that we think nothing of the matter. It is not true that it is golden.”

  Sir Roderick looked at his son with the expression that was almost of gratitude. He had not wished for his silence.

  “There is almost too much of this generosity,” said Maria, with a break in her voice. “It would mean more, if there were less. All this care to avoid looking at the truth only means it cannot be faced.”

  “But it can be,” said her stepson. “It has to be, to be grasped at all. I have never met a matter that called for closer attention.”

  “There, there, my pretty, we have been clumsy, have we?” said Sir Roderick.

  “You may have, Father. It is a thing I could not be. It is a quality that Maria likes, and I do see her point of view.”

  “She does not want a too tactful and easy smoothing over of things. She is too honest to want anything but honesty in other people.”

  “Honest!” said Maria.

  “We never get honesty by itself,” said Juliet. “It is inseparable from other things, and the last ones to be coupled with it. Do not insist upon it, Maria. It would show us in such a bad light, and we have been so careful to present ourselves in a good one.”

  “Yes, care has been taken,” said Lesbia.

  “By you as well, Aunt Lesbia.”

  “No, I do not think so, Oliver. I think I have appeared in an unconsidered one.”

  “I am not going to pose as an authority upon h
onesty,” said Maria.

  “Or to pose at all, my pretty. It is not in you. I know how you have wanted to make a clean breast of it all.”

  “Have you really, Maria?” said Oliver. “I should so like to know.”

  “Of course I have not. I could easily have done it. I meant the truth to remain hidden.”

  “Easily have done it! No, no, no,” said Mr. Firebrace.

  “Well, most truth does remain so,” said Oliver. “Think what would happen if it did not.”

  “I do want to think,” said Juliet. “I have often thought.”

  “We know in one case,” said Maria.

  “There, there, my dear. Your nerves are all on edge,” said Sir Roderick. “And I do not wonder.”

  “Ought you not to wonder, Father? You are losing the thread of things. I am in rather a carping mood. It is because I was accused of clumsiness.”

  “It seems to me a mild accusation,” said Maria. “What could I be accused of? I have been accused of clumsiness all my life, and never been the worse.”

  “Not by me, my pretty, not by me,” said Sir Roderick.

  “Anyone who finds you so in any deep matter must be a poor judge, Lady Shelley,” said Miss Petticott.

  “And it is a disgrace to excel in anything on the surface,” said Juliet.

  “When people are sound at bottom,” said Mr. Firebrace, “who cares for so much smoothness on the top?”

  “Now they have all accused Maria of clumsiness,” said Lesbia to Juliet, hardly moving her lips. “And, as she says, she is none the worse. I wonder if she is better.”

  “My children will not know what I have done,” said Maria. “And they had to face my knowing what they had. How the heavier burdens fall on the helpless!”

  “People who are not helpless would avoid them,” said Oliver.

  “I actually did not think of my own stumble, when we were dealing with theirs. I gave the money to Roderick on that very day. I was as dishonest with myself as I was with other people.”

  “Then clearly they have no cause to complain,” said Juliet. “That is a very rare equality.”

  “You are upset, Maria, and hardly know what you say,” said her husband. “And I am sure you have every reason.”

 

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