GEORGE SHAW - The Complete Works

“Anyone upstairs?” he asked carelessly of the maid, as he hung up his hat.

“Only one lady, sir. Mrs Herbert.”

Something within him s make a spring at the name. He glanced at himself in the mirror before going into the drawing room, where, to his extreme disappointment, he found Mary conversing, not with Herbert’s wife, but with his mother. She had but just arrived, and was explaining to Mary that she had returned the day before, from a prolonged absence in Scotland. Charlie never enjoyed his encounters with Mrs Herbert; for she had known him as a boy, and had not yet got out the of habit of treating him as one. So, hearing that Hoskyn was in another room, smoking, he pleaded a desire for a cigar, and went off to join him, leaving the two ladies together.

“You were saying — ?” said Mary, resuming the conversation which his entrance had Interrupted.

“I was saying,” said Mrs Herbert, “that I have never been able to sympathize with the interest which you take in Adrian’s life and opinions. Geraldine tells me that I have no maternal instinct; but then Geraldine has no sons, and does not quite know what she is talking about. I look on Adrian as a failure, and I really cannot take an interest in a man who is a failure. His being my son only makes the fact disappointing to me personally. I retain a kind of nursery affection for my boy; but of what use that to him, since he has given up his practice of stabbing me through it? I would go to him if he were ill; and help him if he were in trouble; but as to maintaining a constant concern on his account, really I do not see why I should. You, with your own little dear one a fresh possession — almost a part of yourself still, doubtless think me very heartless; but you will learn that children have their separate lives and interests as completely independent of their parents as the remotest strangers. I do not think Adrian would even like me, were it not for his sense of duty. You will understand some day that the common notion of parental and filial relations are more unpractical than even those of love and marriage.

Mary, who ^had already made some discoveries in this direction, did not protest as “ she would have done in her maiden time. “What surprises me chiefly is that Mrs Herbert should have been rude to you,” she said. “I doubt whether she is particularly fond of me: indeed, I am sure she is not; but nothing could be more exquisitely polite and kind than her manner to me, especially in her own house.”

“I grant you the perfection of her manners, dear. She was not rude to me. Not that they are exactly the manners of good society; but they are perfect of their kind, for all that. Hush! I think — did I not hear Adrian’s voice that time?”

Adrian was, in fact, speaking in the hall to Hoskyn, who had just appeared there with Charlie on his way to the drawing room. Aurélie was with her husband. They all went for a moment into the study, which served on Sunday evenings as a cloak room.

“I assure you, Mrs. Herbert,” said Hoskyn, officiously helping Aurélie to take off her mantle, “I am exceedingly glad to see you.”

“Ah, yes,” said Aurélie; “but this is quite wrong. It is you who should render me a visit in this moment, because I ask you to dine with me; and you do not come.”

“You have turned up at a very good time,’ said Charlie mischievously. “Mrs. Herbert is upstairs.”

“My mother!” said Adrian, in consternation.

“Shall we go upstairs?” said Hoskyn, leading the way with resolute cheerfulness.

Ädrian looked at Aurélie. She had dropped the lively manner in which she had spoken to Hoskyn, and was now moving towards the door with ominous grace and calm.

“Aurélie,” he said, detaining her in the room for a moment: “my mother is here. You will speak to her — for my sake — will you not?”

She only raised her hand to signify that she was not to be troubled, and then, without heeding his look of pain and disappointment, passed out and followed Hoskyn to the drawingroom, where Mary and Mrs Herbert, having heard her foreign voice, were waiting, scarcely less disturbed than Adrian by their fear of how she might act.

“Mrs Herbert junior has actually condescended to pay you a visit, Mary,” said Hoskyn.

“How do you do?” said Mary, with misgiving. “I am so very glad to see you.”

“So often have I to reproach myself not to have called on my friends,” said Aurélie in her sweetest voice, “that I yielded to Adrian at the risk of deranging you by coming on the Sunday evening.” A pause followed, during which she looked inquisitively around. “Ah!” she exclaimed, with an air of surprise and pleasure, as she recognized Mrs. Herbert, “is it possible? You are again in London, madame.”

She advanced and offered her hand. Mrs Herbert, who had sat calmly looking at her, made the greeting as brief as possible, and turned her attention to Adrian. Nevertheless, Aurélie drew a chair close to hers, and sat down there.

“You are looking very well, mother,” said Adrian. “When did you return?”

“Only yesterday, Adrian.” There was a brief silence. Adrian looked anxiously at Aurélie; and his mother mutely declined to look at her.

“But behold what is absurd!” said Aurélie. “You, madame, who are encore so young — so beautiful — here Mrs. Herbert, who had turned to her with patient attention, could not hide an expression of wonder&mdash”you are already a grandmother. Adrian has what you call a son and heir. It is true.”

“Yes, I am aware of that,” said Mrs. Herbert coolly.

A slight change appeared for an instant in Aurélie’s face; and she glanced for a moment gravely at her husband. He, with disgust only half concealed,said, “You could not broach a subject less interesting to my mother,” and turned away to speak to Mary.

“Adrian,” began Mrs. Herbert, who found herself unexpectedly disturbed by the implied imputation of want of feeling: “I do not think—” Then, as he was not attending to her, she turned to Aurélie and said, “You really must not accept everything that Adrian says seriously. Pray tell me all about your boy — my grandson, I should say.”

“He is like you,” said Aurélie, trying to conceal the chill which had fallen upon her. “Perhaps you will like to see him. If so, I shall bring him to you, if you will permit me.”

“I shall be very glad,” said Mrs. Herbert, rather surprised. “Let me say that I have been expecting you to call on me for some time.”

“You are very good,” said Aurélie. “But think of how I live. I am always voyaging; and you also are seldom in London. Besides, when one is an artist one neglects things. Forget, I pray you, my — my — ach! I do not know how to say it. But I will come to you with Monsieur Jean Sczympliça Herbert. That reminds me: I know not your address.

Mrs Herbert supplied the information; and the conversation then proceeded amicably with occasional help from Hoskyn and Charlie. Mary and Adrian had withdrawn to another part of the room, and were engrossed in a discussion. In the course of it Mary remarked that matters were evidently smooth between the two Mrs Herberts.

“I am glad of it,” said Adrian, not looking glad. “I was disposed to think Aurélie in fault on that point; but I see plainly enough now how the coolness was brought about. I should not have blamed Aurélie at all if she had repaid my mother’s insolence — I do not think that at all too strong a word — in kind. Poor Aurélie! I have been all this time secretly thinking hardly of her for having, I thought, rebuffed my mother. Unjust and stupid that I am not to have known better from my lifelong experience of the one, and my daily observation of the other! Aurélie has conciliated her tonight solely because I begged her to do so as we came upstairs. You cannot deny that my wife can be perfectly kind and selfsacrificing whenever there is occasion for it.”