Ivy Compton-Burnett - Two Worlds and Their Ways

“A nice woman,” said Sir Roderick. “Sound at heart. I was glad there were some people on her own level here for her to-day.”

“I had forgotten it was a festal occasion,” said Oliver. “Somehow nothing reminds me of it.”

“We ought to compare her to Miss Chancellor,” said Maria. “She manages the children’s education. The people she talked to were the matrons.”

“And none the worse for that,” said Sir Roderick. “Any more than the other one was the better for what she was. Of all the people here today, she was the one I was not quite sure of. I am a judge of people in my way.”

Lesbia rested her eyes on him with uncertain lips, as though he might not be this in other people’s.

“This hopeless trouble of mine has prevented our discussion of everything,” said Maria.

“Postponed it,” said her husband. “It will last us for several days. There were eleven guests without Spode. I counted them.”

“You are so thorough, Father,” said Oliver.

“I did not have to do that, as I had arranged for them all,” said Maria.

“That gave you an advantage,” said Lesbia. “I did have to.”

“How did you manage it without looking at them?” said Oliver.

“It was only at the girls that she did not look,” said Sir Sir Roderick. “And she knew the number of those.”

“People certainly looked at me,” said Lesbia, laughing. “I wonder I did not get counted twice.”

“Those dear little boys!” said Maria. “I only just kept from embracing them.”

“Grandpa kept from embracing several people,” said Oliver. “I saw him keeping from it.”

“And that was a dear child with the round face.”

“Gwendolen,” said Lesbia, easily. “We have had her with us for years. It has been interesting to see her go from stage to stage.”

“She seemed so fond of Clemence. I wonder if Clemence would really be better with friends about her.”

“This day has put us back for months,” said Oliver. “I knew it would.”

“Not if you hold to your advance,” said Lesbia. “Do not let it go.”

“She is better at home,” said Sir Roderick. “The life amongst numbers is too much for her. She was pale and tired at the end of today. I noticed it. If anyone understands her, I do.”

“Miss Chancellor and Miss Petticott hardly exchanged a word,” said Maria. “I do not know how that happened. They were the natural pair to come together.”

“Ah, Miss Petticott knew better,” said Sir Roderick. “She knew where she was safe. Trust a woman’s instinct. And you were talking to Miss Chancellor, or she was to you. Someone had to talk to the housekeepers. Miss Petticoat threw herself into the breach, and enjoyed her day. And I was glad for her to have a change.”

“It seems that a man’s instinct would have done as well,” said Oliver.

“You put her on the housekeepers’ level,” said Maria. “And she should rank with the mistresses, if she is in her place.”

“Well, we have settled that,” said Lesbia. “We will not throw doubt on it.”

“If Miss Chancellor is a mistress, I rank her above them,” said Sir Roderick.

“I know what you mean,” said his wife, “But you know what I mean too.”

“You are right, my boy. The day has put us back,” said Mr. Firebrace.

“Do not let it, my dear. Keep a hand on yourself,” said Sir Roderick, with some urgency. “We cannot keep on going backwards and forwards. Our family life is settled. Let it be.”

“It is good advice, Maria,” said Lesbia.

“We behave as if nothing had happened,” said Maria. “But I know what must be in your minds.”

“Forget it, my pretty. You will soon get used to the feeling.”

“It had gone from my mind,” said Juliet, “and left a sense of blank. And I mean a real blank with nothing in it. But it seemed such a stimulating thing, and it is fading away.”

“Yielding to temptation seems so natural, that I was hardly stimulated,” said Oliver.

“There, my pretty!” said Sir Roderick.

“Are there any cases of resisting it?” said Juliet. “We never hear about them, but it does not seem there can be none.”

“We all withstand it all the time,” said Sir Roderick.

“Well, we cannot be expected to admit that,” said his son.

“We are people who are not assailed by it,” said Lesbia with a smile.

“I yielded to the first real one I ever had,” said Maria.

“And I suppose it hardly matters if we yield to the others,” said Juliet. “That is just living day by day.”

“Are we to discuss now the difference between the real ones and the others?” said Maria, on a weary note.

“Well, it would be your fault if we did,” said Oliver. “And Aunt Juliet and I may be going to.”

“I will take you away, Maria,” said Sir Roderick. “You have borne enough. We will go away together and leave them to discuss what they must.”

“They are entitled to the opportunity. And they must be ready to make the most of it. They have restrained themselves long enough.”

“And if anyone is grateful to them, I am,” said Sir Roderick.

“Well, we the survivors,” said Oliver.

“And from what a sad, little wreck!” said Mr. Firebrace. “And the rock we struck was the young man, Spode.”

“Do we think more or less of Maria?” said Juliet. “That is the interesting thing.”

“We will not say we have never liked her so well,” said Oliver. “That means we like people in humility and self-abasement. It is sad that it should be so common.”

“Well, well, it was a woman’s slip,” said Mr. Firebrace. “I grudge no woman a trinket.”

“No, that is true, Grandpa. You tend to be lavish with them.”

“How much are we attached to Maria?” said Juliet. “I hated the idea of her being exposed.”

“So did I,” said Oliver. “I really admired myself for hating it so much.”

“You will keep your tongue still, my boy,” said Mr. Firebrace. “Your stepmother has a right to it.”

“This is the first time you have given Maria that name. Is it a mark of respect at this time?”

“Well, if it is, there is no harm in it.”

“I do look up to you, Grandpa. Ought I to make an effort to call her ‘Mother’?”

“Can it be that you have never liked her so well, Father?” said Lesbia.

“It is himself he has never liked so well,” said Oliver. “And I am sure I do not wonder.”

“I wonder if we really see it as a joke,” said Lesbia. “If we do not, is there any reason to pretend to?”

“If it is not a joke, there is no advantage in talking about it,” said her nephew. “Understanding and pity will not give us any pleasure. They have given us none.”

“They only show that we can imagine ourselves doing the same thing,” said Juliet.

“Can you imagine it?” said Oliver.

“I am not sure. But I cannot imagine Maria.”

“So you have never liked yourself so well either.”

“Well, do you not think I am being very likeable?”

“Do you wish we could hear the talk between Roderick and Maria?” said Lesbia. “I think we do not wish it.”

“If the matter is not a joke, why should we?” said Oliver. “It might become even less of a joke, and that would not do.”

“I believe I could imagine that,” said Juliet. “If I did not keep a hand on myself, I believe I should.”

Juliet’s imagination would not have served her well. As the husband and wife reached the library, Maria turned to the door.

“There is a fire in here, Roderick. There is something I want to say to you. I had better say it on this day when everything is being said. Then there will be an end of it. I feel now that I shall not always keep it to myself.”