Ivy Compton-Burnett: Parents and Children

‘Now I think you may run away,’ said Eleanor, stroking her hair.

‘What did Mr Ridley do?’ said Gavin, in a low tone to his sister.

‘I will tell you when we are upstairs.’

‘Now you may run away,’ said Eleanor again. ‘You will always feel kindly to him.’

‘I haven’t said I shall,’ said Gavin.

‘I have no antipathy to him,’ said Honor.

‘Now I said you could run away,’ said Eleanor. ‘You may kiss Father before you go.’

‘He will kiss Mother too,’ said Nevill, coming up to her. ‘And Mr Ridley come back soon, and never go away again.’

‘Now I said you could run away.’

‘Do you think you were right, dear?’ said Hope.

‘Tell Hatton and Mullet that I will come up later and see them,’ said Fulbert, as he parted from his children.

‘He will tell them,’ said Nevill, and ran before the others from the room.

‘I think I ought to go home, Mother,’ said Faith. ‘I have a feeling that someone should be with Ridley.’

‘I am glad you take the noble course, dear. It improves our family average. And it seems to need it.’

Faith went with a grave face towards the door. Sir Jesse rose and without looking at anyone did the same, as if he found it easier to follow a lead. Regan got up a minute later, and putting her knitting easily together, smiled on the company and followed. Paul came from the back of the room, as if released from some bondage.

‘Well, I am going to take my wife away,’ said Fulbert. ‘I have a leaning towards my own armchair. It is many months since I have sat in it. And if I leave her, other people form designs upon her. I have been happy in having my friends to welcome me. And I wish you joy of your gossip; it should be a good one.’

‘It should be wonderful,’ said Hope, coming quickly to the centre of the group. ‘And as we all have a relation disgraced, it will not be spoiled by personal embarrassment. I have not dared to dwell on our own family dishonour.’

‘Perhaps we never shall,’ said Paul. ‘Then we shall be saved a great deal. Poor boy! Poor boy!’

‘The exposure of two people upon one occasion must be very rare,’ said Daniel.

‘We so seldom get any exposure at all,’ said Paul.

‘It is better for it all to happen together,’ said Graham. ‘Better for the exposed people, I mean.’

‘They are saved from that sense of loneliness,’ said Hope. ‘Men’s lives are evidently what they are supposed to be. And some have the misfortune to be found out. It is all true.’

‘People should keep their darker times to themselves,’ said Daniel.

‘They are certainly not well advised to be photographed at one of them,’ said Paul.

‘Would it be better not to talk about it?’ said Faith.

‘Nothing could be so bad,’ said Hope. ‘And it is because you think so that you have not gone to Ridley.’

‘I thought we should all be going soon, Mother.’

‘No doubt he has taken the late train to London,’ said Paul.

Faith turned grave eyes on her father, in reference to his silence on this matter.

‘I wonder if he has anyone to welcome him there,’ said Hope.

‘Grandpa was rather mature when he sowed his wild oats,’ said Daniel.

‘They don’t seem so very wild,’ said Graham. ‘People must be fairly established, when they are in a position to support two families.’

‘Poor Grandpa!’ said Luce. ‘I daresay he was very lonely out there. Not that I want to make excuses for him.’

‘There is none for the various foolishness he has shown,’ said Paul. ‘It comes of a life without criticism.’

‘How did he manage about leaving the woman, when he returned to England?’ said Graham.

‘It is no good to find out about it, Graham,’ said Daniel. ‘You will never go as far as your grandfather.’

‘He told her the truth about his life,’ said Paul. ‘And he lived with her again, when he went out a second time. She died when Susan was born.’

‘And I pitied you for having to sit by him!’ said Hope. ‘To think of the freemasonry among men!’

‘I suppose she was not equal to him,’ said Faith.

‘I daresay not, to our ideas,’ said her father. ‘Social and other differences would count less out there.’

‘And when he heard of her death, he sent for the three children,’ said Faith. ‘I am glad he did not shirk his responsibilities.’

‘Are they to know who their father is?’ said Graham.

‘No, it is to be always kept from them,’ said Paul. ‘He feels it is better for them and for him. I am quoting his words.’

‘He must be afraid of its leaking out, now it is not his own secret,’ said Graham.

‘It is to be the secret of us all.’

‘Well, that is the least aggravating kind of secret,’ said Hope.

‘Poor Grandma!’ said Luce, in a soft tone.

‘Yes, poor Lady Sullivan!’ said Faith. ‘She is the really tragic figure. I think she showed a great heroism, the greater that it was quiet.’

‘I think heroism is only mentioned when it is that,’ said Hope.

‘She has known for years,’ said Paul. ‘She saw Sir Jesse’s interest in the young people, and saw a likeness to him, and guessed the truth.’

‘To think she has carried the burden for all this time!’ said Faith, slowly shaking her head.

It is Grandpa’s affair,’ said Daniel, ‘or it should have been.’

‘Did she tell you, Paul?’ said Hope.

‘She said a word to him.’

‘Did he mind?’ said Graham.

‘Well, I think he had a shock.’

‘He can hardly expect not to suffer at all,’ said Faith.

‘It seems like Grandpa to sin for years and suffer for a moment,’ said Graham, as though he were glad if this were the case.

‘It is good that there is no longer that between them,’ said Faith. ‘And I daresay Lady Sullivan knows men.’

‘I did not know you did, dear,’ said Hope.

‘All women must in a way, Mother.’

‘Well, I don’t see how, in some cases, dear.’

‘There would not be definite ways, Mother.’

‘Oh, well, perhaps we think the same. Now can we dwell on Sir Jesse’s lapse, and hardly mention Ridley’s?’

‘That is what we will do, if you please,’ said Paul. ‘But I should not have thought the boy would be so bold.’

‘I have been feeling an unwilling respect for him,’ said Hope. ‘And as in me respect is generally that, perhaps the rest of you feel a proper one.’

‘I cannot do that,’ said Faith, in a quiet tone. ‘But of course I have other feelings.’

‘I can’t help thinking of Grandma’s tragedy,’ said Luce. ‘It has not come today, but there must have been a day when it did come.’

‘There must,’ said Faith.

‘When the expedition involved what it did, no wonder Grandpa thought us too young for it,’ said Daniel.

‘Did Father find any traces of what had happened?’ said Graham.

‘He did not say,’ said Paul.

‘Perhaps Grandpa had prepared him.’

‘Does the freemasonary extend to father and son?’ said Hope.

‘I suppose a long period away from home does mean all kinds of things for a man,’ said Faith.

‘Ridley has done well enough in his own village,’ said Paul. ‘I hope he will not go further outside. For he will now remain away.’

‘Yes, I suppose he will, Father,’ said Faith.

‘Is there any likeness in the Marlowes to Grandpa?’ said Luce. ‘And is their real name Marlowe?’

‘Yes, it was their mother’s name,’ said Paul.

‘Of course, illegitimate children are called by their mother’s name,’ said Faith. ‘I have always seen likenesses in them, but I have never been able to place them.’

‘I have always thought the resemblance was to each other,’ said Graham, ‘and I think it chiefly is.’