Ivy Compton-Burnett - Parents and Children

‘Well, my little ones,’ said the voice that hardly varied with the people it addressed, ‘so you are back from the sea. Did you have a happy time? Are you tired after your journey? Is no one going to answer me?’

Nevill laid hold of Hatton’s dress and raised eyes of disapprobation and apprehension to her face.

‘Are you coming to kiss me, my boy?’ said Eleanor.

Gavin approached and suffered an embrace, and Honor followed his example.

‘It was a pity I had to be out last night. It was a dull homecoming for you. I wish I could have helped it.’

‘Mother couldn’t help it,’ said Nevill, in a condoning manner.

‘We had Grandma,’ said Gavin.

‘But that was not the same,’ said his mother.

‘No, it was different.’

‘It was better, wasn’t it?’ said Nevill, in an obliging tone.

‘Honor kissed me, as well as letting me kiss her, Gavin,’ said Eleanor.

Gavin did not answer, and his mother turned to Nevill’s bed, as though she felt it hardly fitting that he should receive her under such conditions.

‘Is anything the matter with him, Hatton?’

‘He is only tired, madam. He went to sleep very late.’

‘As late as Hatton,’ said Nevill.

‘Was he not in bed at the usual time?’

‘We were at home too late for that, madam. And he could not sleep in a strange room.’

‘A strange room? It is his own night nursery.’

‘Yes, but he had forgotten it.’

‘He had forgotten it,’ Nevill explained to his mother.

‘Could not someone sit with him?’

‘Mullet and I were unpacking, madam. And no one else would have done.’

‘No one but Hatton,’ said Nevill.

‘He hardly looks as if he had been to the sea.’

‘People would not look different,’ said Gavin.

‘Hatton did sit with him for a little while,’ said Nevill, more in condonation of Hatton than in information to his mother.

‘Don’t cover your face, dear,’ said the latter, drawing down the clothes.

‘No,’ said Nevill, in a sharper tone, pulling them back.

‘You will not be able to breathe properly.’

‘He never breathes,’ said Nevill, and closed his eyes.

‘Isn’t he growing rather a wilful little boy?’

‘He is tired, as you say, madam. He will soon be himself.’

‘Mother didn’t say so,’ said Gavin.

‘You had better keep him in bed,’ said Eleanor, suggesting an uncongenial course both for Hatton and her son.

‘He will get up now, madam, and rest before his dinner.’

‘In his little bed,’ said Nevill, and changed his tone the next moment. ‘Get up now.’

‘Then I will go downstairs and come up when they are up and dressed.’

‘We are up now,’ said Gavin.

‘Will you come again to see us?’ said Nevill, leaning out of the bed to take hold of his mother’s skirt and raise his eyes to her face.

‘Yes, of course Mother will come to see her little boy.’

‘Now she has gone,’ said Nevill, in a satisfied tone, as the door closed.

‘Oh, and you said you wanted her to come again,’ said Mullet, with reproach.

‘Nevill fawns on people,’ said Honor.

‘He doesn’t,’ said Nevill. ‘He won’t marry Honor when he is grown-up.’

Nevill’s consistent use of the third person for himself suggested a cultivation of infantine habit.

‘You can’t marry your sister,’ said Gavin.

‘He can marry who he wants to. And he will marry Hatton.’

‘Hatton and Nevill are engaged!’ said Honor, with more contempt for the condition than for the unsuitability of the parties.

‘Hatton will like it,’ said Nevill.

‘Why can’t brothers and sisters marry?’ said Gavin.

‘Because they have to start a family,’ said his sister. ‘If they married people in the same one, there would never be any new ones. But they can live together.’

‘Do they have any children then?’

‘I don’t think they do so often. But they can adopt some.’

‘He will be your little boy,’ promised Nevill in full comprehension.

‘Nevill is one of the baser creatures,’ said Gavin.

‘He isn’t,’ said Nevill, clutching at Hatton’s skirt and pointing to his brother. ‘He is the same as him.’

‘If people knew we had a baser creature, we should be prosecuted,’ said Honor.

‘What is prosecuted?’ said Gavin.

‘Put in prison.’

‘They will be put in prison,’ said Nevill, in a comfortable tone to Hatton. ‘It is because they don’t like him to be best.’

‘Why should we mind what he is?’ said Gavin.

‘I wish you did not mind so much,’ said Hatton, causing Mullet some amusement. ‘It is past the time for your breakfast. Nevill must come in his dressing-gown.’

‘Not much appetite,’ said Nevill, leaning back in his chair.

‘You will eat like a baser creature,’ said Gavin.

‘He was sick in the train,’ said Nevill, disposing of the suggestion.

‘So was Honor.’

‘But he wasn’t,’ said Nevill to Hatton, indicating his brother.

‘No, Gavin was my choice at that moment,’ said Hatton.

‘No, he was,’ said Nevill, clutching at her arm and speaking in reference to what had taken place.

‘We were all rather uncivilized,’ said Honor.

‘He was too,’ said Nevill, nodding.

‘You are three children come back to your home after a period of exile,’ said Mullet, speaking as if she were beginning a tale.

‘We haven’t got a home,’ said Gavin. ‘This home is Grandpa’s. It is because we are poor.’

‘You are not,’ said Mullet, in a sharper tone.

‘Mother said we were.’

‘That sort of poorness in your kind of family is different.’

‘It is better, isn’t it?’ said Nevill, in a consoling tone.

‘It is considered superior to the money of ordinary people.’

‘Why aren’t we ordinary?’ said Honor.

‘You are, until you prove you are not,’ said Hatton.

‘Youngest are best,’ said Nevill.

‘You won’t be the youngest, if there is another baby,’ said Honor.

Nevill regarded her for a moment.

‘He will,’ he said.

‘That can be his distinction for the present,’ said Hatton, leaving the table on some errand.

‘I do think Hatton does talk beautifully,’ said Mullet, in a tone that seemed a reproach to the existing social order. ‘As pointed and as finished as any lady.’

‘Pointed?’ said Gavin.

‘To the point,’ said Honor.

‘Hatton does it, doesn’t she?’ said Nevill, looking up into Mullet’s face.

‘Now we must not let time steal a march on us,’ said Hatton, returning and using a rather conscious tone.

‘Why mustn’t we?’ said Nevill. ‘Why mustn’t we, Hatton?’

‘There is a lot to be done by tomorrow, when the new governess comes.’

‘Not for him is she coming?’

‘Not for you as much as the others. You will go in for half an hour.’

‘She will like him, won’t she, when he goes in?’

‘Nevill says she will like him!’ said Honor.

‘I daresay she will at this stage,’ said Hatton. ‘It is later that the crux comes.’

‘Crux?’ said Gavin.

‘Crisis,’ said his sister.

‘Hatton will come and fetch him,’ said Nevill.

‘I have had two governesses,’ said Honor. ‘I know the tricks of the trade.’

‘Yes, you know, we know them,’ said Gavin.

‘He doesn’t want to,’ said Nevill.

‘And the nature of the beasts,’ said Honor.

‘And the snares of the way and the obstacles of the race and all of it,’ said Hatton, in an easy, rapid tone, keeping her eyes from Mullet and her hands employed. ‘But that does not prevent you from attending to your breakfast.’