Charles Snow - The Conscience of the Rich

We went back to the dance for half an hour, and it was strange, after breathing the heavy air that descends sometimes on to any passion, to be making conversation to young girls — young girls pleased to find a partner, or else proud that they had not missed a dance all night.

One or two, as they noticed their cousin Charles dancing with Ann, must have wondered if they were in love: but they would have been surprised if they had known the pain and decision that had been going on under their noses in this house.

The dance was almost over when Charles and I began to walk the few hundred yards to Bryanston Square. It had been a wet day; the pavements were glistening, though now the rain had stopped. After the ballroom the air was cool on our cheeks.

Charles said that he was worried about Mr March and Katherine. He questioned me on what Caroline had said. But I saw that he was distracted, and he soon fell quiet.

When I gave him Ann’s message, his face lit up.

‘Life’s very unfair.’ He smiled. In a single instant he had become brilliantly cheerful. ‘If I’d been capable of more civilized behaviour, she’d never have needed to think of me.’

‘You made Porson feel flattered,’ I said. ‘I thought that was rather gallant.’

‘No,’ said Charles. ‘I was behaving with the sort of excellence when I could almost see myself shine. And it’s easy to take in everybody except oneself and the person to whom it matters most.’

Suddenly he said: ‘It’s ridiculous, you know, but I’m jealous of him. Though she’s never loved him in the slightest. Still, I was jealous when I met him. Ann knew that from every word I said. That’s why she sent me that message. She wanted to save me from a dismal night.’

He took my arm, and broke out with a warm, unexpected affection.

‘I wish you’d been saved more, Lewis. You know so much more about that kind of suffering than I hope I ever shall.’

We had reached Bryanston Square. Mr March was long since home, and the house stood in darkness. Charles and I stayed under the lamp, just opposite the railings.

‘It’s curious,’ said Charles, ‘how the unexpected things catch one off one’s guard. I went there tonight, knowing that I had to get him to talk and make him as comfortable as I could and so on. But there was one thing I hadn’t reckoned with; it was the sight of them together in his car, just ready to drive away. For a second I felt that I had utterly lost her.’

The day after the coming-out dance, Katherine had to face a scene with her father.

‘Your Aunt Caroline wants you to spend a month in her house,’ Mr March said the moment she arrived at breakfast. ‘There is a consensus of opinion that you don’t meet enough people.’

‘Shall I go?’ said Katherine, so equably that Mr March became more angry.

‘I naturally didn’t consider your refusing.’

‘Of course I’ll go,’ said Katherine.

Until she went to stay with Caroline, Mr March behaved as though Katherine’s presence was irritating. Several of his relations had followed the lead of Caroline and Philip and advised him to ‘keep an eye on Charles’ friend Francis Getliffe’. The sight of Francis and Katherine together had impressed most of Mr March’s brothers and sisters. With their own particular brand of worldliness, they decided that Leonard could not be too careful, the young fellow might think he had a chance of her money.

Katherine duly spent her month at Caroline’s, and there, each night at dinner, was produced a selection of the eligible young men in the March world. It was all magnificent in its opulence and heavy-footedness. At the end of her stay Katherine returned with a collection of anecdotes to Bryanston Square. The anecdotes she had to keep for Charles. It struck everyone that Mr March did not enquire what had happened, and irascibly brushed aside any mention that Katherine made.

In July, on the customary date, Mr March moved his household to Haslingfield. I was invited there in August, and found, on the evening I arrived, that Katherine was still trying to imagine Charles’ life as a doctor.

‘I know you’ll go through with it now,’ she said. ‘But I just can’t see what it will be like, you know. It’s too far-fetched for me.’

‘You just want to purr away in comfort,’ said Charles.

‘You ought to be able to be happy, and get your dash of comfort into the bargain,’ she said.

‘I call that animal content,’ said Charles.

‘I only wish you could have it,’ she said.

Beneath the backchat their voices showed their fondness and concern. Between them there flowed a current of intimacy — it was not only his future they were talking of. Katherine was at once apprehensive and happy, so happy that she had become maternally concerned for Charles. Two years earlier, she would have hero-worshipped him.

They told me nothing that evening. Mr March appeared to be in something like his old spirits; his manner to his son was not constrained, and he talked about a holiday abroad which Charles had spoken of, and then shelved, as ‘my son’s misguided expedition to gather energy for purposes which he was never able to justify. Like the time my Uncle Natty gave them all a fright by trying to go on the stage. But it was always rumoured that he had his eye on an actress. So he went to London University and they made him a knight.’

‘It sounds rather easy, Mr L,’ said Charles.

‘No! No!’ said Mr March. ‘He went to London University and became a professor and a member of their financial board. I always thought he was a superficial fellow. He went slightly off his head, of course, and they gave him his knighthood just before he died.’

Lying half awake the next morning, after the footman had drawn the curtains, I heard the whisper of conversation in Charles’ room next door. I could distinguish Charles’ voice and Katherine’s, hers raised and animated, and I caught one whole reply from Charles: ‘I can easily ring him up at Cambridge.’ When Katherine came down to breakfast I said: ‘What conspiracy are you busy with now?’

She blushed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Consultations before breakfast—’

‘Lewis, you didn’t hear? You can’t possibly have heard, can you?’

Then Charles entered, and she said:

‘Lewis pretends he overheard us this morning. He’s probably bluffing, but I’m not quite sure.’ She turned to me, smiling and excited: ‘If you really do know, it’s absolutely essential you shouldn’t breathe a word.’

Charles said to Katherine: ‘You’re rather hoping he does know, aren’t you? I mean, you wouldn’t be entirely displeased to give yourself away.’

‘You suggested telling him.’ They were smiling at each other. Katherine burst out: ‘Look here, I insist on being put out of my misery. Did you hear or didn’t you?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I can see you’re very cheerful, and it’s about Francis. I couldn’t very well help seeing that, could I? But I don’t know exactly what’s happening.’

‘Is this a double bluff?’ she said.

‘You’d better tell him,’ said Charles.

‘Well,’ said Katherine, ‘it’s important for me. You’ll be discreet, won’t you?’

I said yes.

‘As a matter of fact,’ she said, ‘about a fortnight ago Francis asked me to marry him.’

I said how glad I was. Her delight seemed to become even greater as she shared the news. She had been forced to restrain herself for a good many days, except to Charles. ‘When it came to the point,’ said Katherine, smiling lazily, ‘Francis was different from what any of you would expect.’

‘Now did you know?’ she harped back.

‘No.’