‘The subject will be rife in the place for the next weeks,’ said his son. ‘Then it will die away. One cannot expect to be a hero — to be on people’s tongues for ever. It will remain with me, as our moments of danger do remain. And it was a moment of danger, Flavia, however much you look at me. You will never know how near I was to the end.’
‘It is you who seem not to know,’ said his father.
‘We have all been near to things that are beyond us,’ said Flavia, ‘in the sense that we imagine ourselves doing them, without any intention of it. And it is not very near. We have all stood on the edge of a cliff and pictured ourselves going over.’
‘I stood on the edge,’ said Cassius.
‘Poor Father!’ said Toby, pausing to look at him.
‘Yes, poor Father! No one seems to know how poor he is. There are unkind faces on every side. Well, Fabian, you are wearing a dark expression. What do you think of what has happened?’
‘I can’t help being surprised, Father.’
‘And shocked?’ said Cassius.
‘Well, yes, I suppose I am.’
‘By what you thought had happened, or by what has?’
‘It is a different kind of feeling. I think more by the pretence.’
‘So you are as straight as a die, are you? You could never leave the narrow path. And Guy is of the same mind. He could not be anything else.’
‘I could, but I do think the same about this.’
‘And what does Megan think? She has a mind of. her own.’
‘Well, it was not very honest. I think everyone’s mind would be the same.’
‘Oh, you are a set of little, literal creatures! Would you rather be without a father than have one who had made a mistake?’
‘No, but we would rather have the usual kind of father.’
‘It wasn’t a mistake,’ said Henry. ‘It was meant to be a lasting deceit.’
‘Deception,’ said Cassius, easily. ‘So you are equally disturbed. You think I acted a lie?’
‘Well, I can’t help seeing you did. And you would be angry if we did it.’
‘I don’t think there has been much wrong with our training,’ said Cassius, smiling at Flavia, as though the situation were an easy one. ‘But I don’t think I was so cold and conventional when I was a child.’
‘So you are the perfect example,’ said Mr Clare.
‘There are better things than perfection, my dear old father. Things that have their place in the imperfection of human life. The things that I would have chosen to have, that I shall miss until I go to my grave.’
Guy and Megan looked at their father with compassion.
‘My little son and daughter!’ said Cassius, holding out his arms. ‘Father knows what you feel. You have sound hearts beneath the surface they have imposed on you. Father understands.’
Fabian and Henry regarded the scene in resignation, and Toby came up and surveyed it.
‘Come, my boy, you have made enough trouble,’ said Mr Clare
‘My little ones,’ went on Cassius, his arms still open. ‘I admit this is a comfort to me. I am glad to see tears in my children’s eyes for their father.’
‘I would rather see something other than tears,’ said Flavia.
‘Well, I would not, when tears are the right thing, the proper tribute to other people and to them. If these are a tribute to me, I take it as such and welcome it. It shows them at their best, and shows me what they are. Why, Ainger, I did not see you. Have you been moving about in the room all the time?’
Ainger gave a faint start, as if he had been doing this in solitude.
‘So you have been a witness of a family scene. Well, it is not the first time.’
‘I beg your pardon, sir?’ said Ainger, pausing as if interrupted.
‘It would be no good to keep anything from you. But it need not go through the house.’
‘That is not the destination of what is reposed in me, sir. But would not the truth be better than what has passed for it?’
‘Oh, you have been here as long as that, have you?’
Ainger flicked a duster over a table and looked with a faint frown at the result.
‘You mean that the pretence I made is better than a real attempt at the same thing.’
‘It is of an easier nature sir.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is. People don’t seem to take to the idea of not seeing me in my place. I suppose I have filled it in my own way. I don’t know what made me do such a thing. I hardly know what word to use.’
‘It was impetuous, sir,’ said Ainger, not himself at a loss.
‘Yes, I lost my head as anyone might, and the drug was there. Do as you will about making it known. You may use your own judgement.’
‘I have already used it as I have implied, sir,’ said Ainger, putting cigars at his master’s hand before leaving the room with a smothered eagerness.
‘Dear Ainger!’ said Toby, looking after him.
‘He is a good friend,’ said Cassius.
‘You make too much of a friend of him,’ said Flavia.
‘Too much of a friend?’ said her husband, with lifted brows. ‘How can I have too much of such a thing? I have little enough in my life.’
‘There is nothing he does not know.’
‘And too much that he may know, Flavia?’ said Cassius, just smiling at her and shaking his head. ‘Ah, we both have things we are not proud of. It is not all on my side.’
‘It is a mistake to ignore conventions. There is always a reason behind them.’
‘I have never been bound by things.’
‘But it is a pity to be blind to them.’
‘Blind?’ said Cassius, leaning back and looking before him. ‘Ah, there is too much blindness in the world, too much in this house, and to deeper things than conventions.’
Ainger recollected himself at the kitchen door and entered with his hand on his chin and his eyes down.
‘Well, is there anything to tell?’ said Madge, interpreting the signs.
Ainger just glanced at her and did not move his hand.
‘Well, what is it, Mr Ainger?’ said Kate.
Ainger spared another glance.
‘Put it into plain words,’ said Halliday.
‘I will do so, if I resort to words.’
‘And what is there against that?’
‘I am weighing the reasons,’ said Ainger, and continued to do so.
‘Are you at liberty to make the disclosure?’ said Kate.
‘If I were not, should I be debating the point? It would be foregone.’
‘You can feel the matter is in your hands?’
‘It has been put into them, Kate.’
‘By the master?’
‘Now, Kate, with whom else am I on that footing?’ said Ainger, with a smile.
‘And did the mistress support it?’
‘If silence indicates consent.’
‘It often does not,’ said Mrs Frost.
‘No, Mrs Frost, that is true,’ said Ainger. ‘And looking back, I am not sure that it did. That is why I debate the matter. I do not render less, because less is given. I do not see myself in that light.’
‘You can hold your tongue if you want to,’ said Halliday.
Ainger looked at him and just inclined his head.
‘There is no need for you all to sit in silence,’ he said, presently.
‘Everything is not to be referred to yourself,’ said Halliday.
‘This is,’ said Madge. ‘It is the hush of suspense. Suppose he does not tell us!’
‘There is no need to suppose it.’
‘None at all,’ said Ainger, cordially. ‘You need not meet trouble half-way.’
‘Trouble is too much of a word,’ said Halliday. ‘It is a trifling thing.’
‘Not to me,’ said Ainger. ‘It concerns those near to me and above me, a two-fold claim.’
‘Is the truth in any way derogatory?’ said Kate.
‘Not to my mind,
Kate, with my knowledge. It rather moves a pitying smile.’
‘So it does,’ said Mrs Frost, with her eyes on his face.
‘Yes, Mrs Frost, I do not suppress it,’ said Ainger, illustrating the words. ‘It is the attitude that meets the case.’
‘So it is the master himself,’ said Kate.
‘Well, what else is there in Ainger’s horizon?’ said Halliday.
‘It is the chief thing, Halliday. I endorse it. He is the figure.’
‘Is it anything to do with his action?’ said Kate.
‘It throws light on it,’ said Ainger.
‘Wasn’t it what was thought?’
‘It was and it was not. That expresses it.’
‘Did someone else give him the tablets?’ said Madge.
‘That is not a line to pursue in this house. It refutes itself.’
‘Did he fail to judge the amount?’ said Kate.
‘I may say that he used his judgement, Kate.’
‘Did he take too little on purpose?’ said Mrs Frost.
Ainger inclined his head.
‘You have said it, Mrs Frost. He took what brought oblivion and gave the impression.’
‘What was that?’ said Madge.
‘That he wished to terminate his span on Earth,’ said Ainger, lowering his tone and his eyes.
‘What was his reason?’ said Kate.
‘There were reasons when you were near to him. They remain in their place.’
‘How did the truth come to light?’
‘The usual trivial thing. In this case the number of tablets remaining. They were found by one of the children.’
‘And we are to waste our pity!’ said Halliday. ‘I give it to other people and give him something else. A sorry course.’
‘The essence of sadness and helplessness, Halliday. The man of calibre at bay! It moves the heart like a child’s trouble.’
‘Well, he is. your child. Or was it your younger brother? When I have seen him, he has been something else.’
‘You are right that it is complex, Halliday.’
‘What does the mistress feel on the occasion?’ said Kate.
‘She takes the view to be expected, but violates nothing. And Mr Clare applied his touch in his own way.’
‘So the master had to appear in a sorry light.’
‘Strange to say, Kate, he did not do so. It was because he did not feel it. Nothing else was needed to prove him himself.’
‘Why did they want you all that time?’ said Halliday. ‘What could you do for them?’
‘They did not want me so much as assume my presence. I found it was taken for granted. And I could do nothing for them, Halliday. It was not the occasion. But something passed between us. I felt it going from me to them. My presence was not superfluous.’
‘You were a long time outside the door,’ said Simon.
‘And where were you?’ said Ainger, turning on him.
‘I came to see if I could help. But you were not doing anything.’
‘You are wrong. I was doing my duty, odd though that may seem to you.’
‘It may seem odd to him,’ said Mrs Frost.
‘Well, it will be a long time before his duty lies along that line.’
‘Mine has not done so yet,’ said Mrs Frost.
‘It might be said of all of us,’ said Kate. ‘But there are circumstances.’
‘The master will approve,’ said Ainger, on a satisfied note, ‘when I make use of easy reference. Indeed it has come to pass. It spares him words; it saves the shamefaced touch, and that I could not bear for him.’
‘You are birds of a feather,’ said Halliday.
‘Well, closeness tends to resemblance. I have heard it said. But when the gulf narrows, I establish it. The master may be trusted to me. I hold his position dearer than he does himself.’
‘Does Mr Clare know of your methods?’ said Madge.
‘Ah, there is not much that escapes that old gentleman. He and I have exchanged a look on the occasion. It would not be complete without one.’
The bell rang, and Ainger sped from the room with a startled look, as though fearing the meaning of the summons.
Chapter 12
‘Will you have some more coffee, Cassius?’ said Flavia.
Her husband made no reply.
‘Will you have some more coffee?’
Cassius indicated the full cup at his elbow and looked before him.
‘What do you see that we do not?’ said Mr Clare.
His son turned his eyes on him.
‘We see what we see,’ he said in a moment. ‘Some of us nothing; some of us more; some of us much.’
‘And to which class do you belong?’
Cassius turned on his father a smile of some kindness.
‘To which do you? We all see ourselves in some way.’
‘Only one class would be needed,’ said Flavia. ‘We should all choose the same. If this talk has anything in it.’
Cassius transferred the smile to her, and kept it on her for a moment. If the talk had not anything in it, the smile had. It carried tolerance, amusement, perception.
Ainger bent towards his master’s plate in concerned inquiry.
‘I have not touched that,’ said the latter, in an incidental tone. ‘It need not be wasted.’
‘No, sir,’ said Ainger, in neutral acceptance of this thrift, as he removed the plate.
‘Are you not having anything to eat, Cassius?’ said Flavia.
‘You can see I am not. I saw you notice it some time ago. It was not worth your while to speak of it.’
‘That would have ensured your having nothing.’
‘It has been proved, my boy,’ said Mr Clare.
Cassius vaguely drummed his hands on the table.
‘Would you like some fresh toast?’ said his wife.
Her husband turned his head from side to side.
‘What are you doing today?’
‘Doing?’ said Cassius, with a faint frown. ‘How do you mean? In what way am I making myself useful?’
‘In what way are you to pass your time?’
‘Time passes of itself,’ said Cassius, in a deeper tone. ‘It does not need our dealings with it.’
‘But it has them,’ said his father. We use it for all we do. How are you using it today? That is your wife’s meaning.’
‘Bailiff; tenants; gardener,’ said Cassius, just enunciating the words.
‘And they are wearing you out?’
‘I suppose they do their part towards it day by day.’
‘If I may interpolate, sir,’ said Ainger, ‘they may not be available this morning. The flower show in the village will engross their attention.’
‘They will come to me if I want them.’
‘Yes, certainly, sir.’
‘It is not a public holiday.’
‘It has come to be observed as a local one, sir.’
‘Do you want to go gallivanting with the rest?’
‘I am familiar with our exhibits, sir. If the others are inferior, why see them? And if superior, we may want to see them even less.’
‘Ours are hardly up to standard this year.’
‘For a reason that need not be discussed, sir,’ said Ainger, as if this would be a needless breach of convention.
‘The want of another gardener? We cannot afford a second. We might perhaps have a boy.’
‘I doubt if William has the tolerance, sir.’
‘Do you find that yours is taxed?’
‘Well, I am inured, sir.’
‘And William will become so, if I wish it.’
‘We cannot add a cubit to our stature, sir.’
‘There are several boys without work in the village.’
‘We do not want Master Toby among them, sir,’ said Ainger, with a smile.
‘So your hours will be empty today,’ said Mr Clare to his son.
The latter just glanced at him and leaned his head on his hand.
&
nbsp; ‘Accounts,’ he said, in a just audible tone.
‘The library will be ready, sir,’ said Ainger.
‘I have said it is always to be so.’
‘The desk and the writing materials were my reference, sir.’
‘And the ledgers and rent accounts,’ said Cassius, still supporting his head. ‘I shall want them at my hand.’
‘That is their situation, sir.’
‘How are you passing your time, Flavia?’ said Cassius.
‘I shall be doing the usual things.’
‘And is that an answer?’
‘Housekeeping, letters, gardening,’ said Flavia, putting her own head on her hand and echoing his tone.
‘Smoking, newspapers, dozing,’ said Mr Clare, more lightly.
Cassius appeared not to see or hear.
‘Wine-cellar, silver, sideboard, sir,’ said Ainger, in a tone of coming to his master’ said. ‘Arrears accumulate as soon as effort fluctuates.’
‘How about the wine from London?’ said Cassius.
‘It is still in London, as far as I am informed, sir.’
‘When did you write for it, Cassius?’ said Flavia.
‘I cannot be sure of the exact day.’
‘Did you write at all?’ said his father. ‘It is a thing that would be hard for you.’
‘Then it would be natural if I did not write.’
‘And it is natural that the wine has not come,’ said his wife.
‘Can I indite the order for you, sir?’ said Ainger.
‘Well, you may copy the rough draft on my desk, if I have omitted to do so.’
‘The one I dictated, sir? I do not need to recapitulate. My memory is one of my characteristics.’
‘You have not been active in the matter, my boy,’ said Mr Clare.
Cassius leaned back in his chair, active in nothing.
‘Are you not yourself today? Or are you too much so?’
‘We are all too much ourselves at breakfast,’ said Cassius, looking round the table to encounter proof of this. ‘I don’t think there are exceptions.’
‘No, no, you are a person apart.’
‘I have felt that for a long time.’
‘We all have to get used to it,’ said Flavia, ‘and it has its own comfort.’
‘We live at such different levels,’ said her husband.
‘But always at a deep one ourselves. When someone else is bereaved, we always say how easily he has got over it.’
The Present and the Past Page 15