Ivy Compton-Burnett - Two Worlds and Their Ways

“But those are the matters we do not want to leave,” said Gwendolen. “It is easy to know about the others.”

“Do you suppose Lady Shelley minds, Miss Chancellor?”

“No, Verity, I think she is too large a woman to mind any superficial incongruity in a term used as this one is. I am sure we need not trouble about her inconvenience, as she suffers none.”

“Would you like her position, Miss Chancellor? How would you feel about being a second wife?”

“Well, Verity, my own feeling is that I should not like it,” said Miss Chancellor, settling her glasses to look straight at her questioner. “I admit that, if I were to marry, I should look for the experience in its fullest form. But that is my own point of view. There is no reason why Lady Shelley and I should be copies of each other.”

“Anyhow their Maker saw none,” murmured Esther. “And I daresay Lady Shelley feels with him.”

“I daresay she does, Esther,” said Miss Chancellor, in a pleasant tone, as the train slackened and left Esther’s voice clear. “Indeed, I hope she does, as she has chosen to fulfil herself so differently. No one hopes more than I do, that her life seems to her as full as it can be. If fuller than mine, then be it so. I am the last person to grudge her the conviction, or indeed the reality. Do you not feel with me, Miss Tuke?”

“Certainly, Miss Chancellor,” said Miss Tuke, not sounding quite sure of her ground.

“The two lives offer and ask such different things,” said Maud. “They do not meet on any point. It is not a very fruitful theme for comparison.”

“It was Lady Shelley’s being a second wife that we wanted to talk about,” said Gwendolen. “I think that theme would have been fruitful, full of prying and gossip and a naughty sort of pity.”

“Well, really, Gwendolen, after your pleasant day! I am quite ashamed of you.”

“But you said you would never be a second wife yourself, Miss Chancellor.”

“I am not aware that I said quite that. But as I have no thought at the moment of being a wife at all, the matter may be outside my sphere.”

“Have you had many proposals, Miss Chancellor?”

“Really, Gwendolen, the effect of excitement on you is not very happy.”

“But I did not ask you how many proposals you had had. I asked if you had had many. That is quite different.”

“I see your distinction, Gwendolen. But as at your age you cannot have had any, you need not concern yourself with the subject.”

“Is Miss Chancellor embarrassed by really having had many proposals, or by having had none?” said Esther, again unfortunate in the moment of her speech.

“Esther, I find myself laughing before I know,” said Miss Chancellor, not in time to check a peal, and speaking with a light in her eyes. “You had better talk to each other and not to me, as I seem to set your thoughts running on romantic lines. Holidays in the term are not to be recommended.”

“Oh, please recommend them, Miss Chancellor; please do not say that to Miss Firebrace.”

“Well, do not let us hear your voice so often, Gwendolen. That will be the best way to ensure the result.”

“I will not open my mouth again. Miss Chancellor, do you think Sir Roderick would often think of his first marriage?”

“The elder son must think of it,” said Esther.

“I cannot give an opinion, Gwendolen. I am not such an authority on romantic matters as you seem to think.”

“Did you notice the view from the dining-room windows, Miss Chancellor?” said Maud, in the tone of a rescuer. “It reminded me of an old picture.”

“A Constable, Maud, though not a very early one. I hoped it would strike you in that way. Did anyone else think of it?”

“I saw it as a view, but not as a Constable,” said Esther. “And, after all, it was not one.”

“It struck me as belonging to his later period,” said Verity.

“Why did you not tell me, Miss Chancellor?” said Gwendolen. “I did not know about a Constable; I believe I thought it was some sort of policeman. And I am willing to learn.”

“Now I am going to forget you all for a time,” said Miss Chancellor, closing her eyes to ensure this prospect, “and lose myself, as the expression goes. And I should advise you all to do the same. I see Miss Tuke has set us the example.”

There was silence until Miss Chancellor had followed it.

“Is pleasure really exhausting?” said Gwendolen.

“I do not know,” said Esther. “I have never had enough of it to judge. Miss Chancellor was quite excited by the idea of having had many proposals. I suppose it shows she has not had one.”

“Well, I think the idea is exciting,” said Gwendolen.

“I think you deduce a good deal from very slight premises, Esther,” said Maud.

“Straws show which way the wind blows,” said Verity.

“I should advise you to modify your voices. People are apt to be awakened suddenly in a train. It is not a homogeneous method of travelling. Indeed, it is a good rule to say behind people’s backs what you would say to their faces.”

“We cannot judge of it,” said Verity, “as it is not a rule.”

“It certainly has a good many exceptions.”

“It is no good to think it consists of anything else,” said Esther. “Do you think Clemence is happy in her home? I was not quite sure.”

“I see no reason why she should not be,” said Maud. “She certainly looks better than she did at school, anyhow at the last.”

“She was involved in a good deal of trouble then. I wonder if she ever thinks of it.”

“You saw that she should do so to-day, Esther, the day on which we were accepting her hospitality. I confess I was sorry about it. Was it a gracious way of responding to her kindness, to bring up the one thing known to her disadvantage?”

“Our being there was bound to remind her of it,” said Verity.

“But should not that have been enough? It was a thing to regret, not to bring further home.”

“I hope it will not prevent her asking us again,” said Gwendolen, as the train drew in to the station. “How gloomy it is to get home after a holiday!”

“It is gloomy to get to school,” said Esther.

“It is gloomy to see how spoilt people can be by one day’s pleasure,” said Miss Chancellor, rising in the mood of awaking, and ushering the girls to the door. “There are your gloves, Esther. Gwendolen, do you intend to walk to school without a hat? I do not know why Miss Tuke should wait on you all. Thank you, Maud.”

“I wish we could have a cab,” said Gwendolen.

“Miss Tuke cannot wish it,” said Verity. “It would be smaller than the Shelley carriage, and more than one person would have to sit on the top of her.”

“Why on Miss Tuke rather than on anyone else?” said Miss Chancellor. “It does not do to depend on the unselfishness of one person. And, Gwendolen, too much reliance on luxury is not a sign of quality or breeding, and would not be so considered.”

“It is only a sign of weariness, Miss Chancellor. I mean it is a sign of healthy tiredness. Pleasure does not do me any harm. I shall work all the better tomorrow for it. I always like lessons when we are not supposed to have prepared for them.”

“I hope that forecast will come true, Gwendolen. And I admit that pleasure has its exhausting side, like anything else. I ought to know, as I have enjoyed the day as much as you have. But I am not like you in preferring to come to work without preparation. I look forward to my share of it, as well as to yours, with a certain misgiving.”

“I wish we could live at Clemence’s home, while we are not welcome in our own,” said Esther. “I don’t mean that she would like to have us, but I believe Lady Shelley would.”