Ivy Compton-Burnett - Men and Wives

“God-speed always goes with separation,” said Rachel. “We will leave at once. I am full of selfish gladness for myself, Godfrey. That does not sound a credit to me, but such a credit to Harriet that I sacrifice myself to her, and put myself in a light especially becoming at the moment. Percy, don’t say anything, if you cannot sacrifice yourself. Godfrey will understand that I have spoken for both.”

“Yes, yes, for both. The old times again. Glad most of all for myself, most of all for you,” said Sir Percy, hastening his words and his steps.

“Camilla, we will do as we would be done by,” said Mrs. Christy. “At this moment of tense concentration we will not deal in the mere emptiness of words. Sir Godfrey, I stand amongst those whose instincts have been baulked of late of their truest fulfilment. They have repeatedly been baffled in the bent native to them. Lady Haslam cannot have a welcome more in touch with the atmosphere carried in her wake.”

“I am sure she cannot; it would be too terrible at the moment,” said Camilla, using a sweeping hand, and calling her own valedictions from the doorway. “Good-bye, dear Sir Godfrey. Good-bye, my Matthew. I have hated your mother’s not having the opportunity to forbid our engagement. She must try to make up for it now. I can’t bear for her to be denied anything. Tell me if we are ever to meet again. Her wishes must come first.”

“I must just shake hands with you, and say a word,” said Agatha to her host. “I was saying only the other day, how sad it was to me to see this house without its mistress, to see things having to plough their way, as it were, rudderless. I was saying it here in this room, it seems only a moment ago. It does seem such a coincidence, almost as if coming events do cast their shadows before them, to some minds perhaps that have a bent towards the future. We are full of thanksgiving for you. You will let me say it for all three of us.”

“It would never do for us all to say it at that length, when we were told to bid God-speed!” said Geraldine.

“It is allowable to be without words,” said Kate in a low, deep tone, as she followed them.

“Sir Godfrey,” said Dominic, “my fellow-guests have taken their stand upon the assumption that something may be said from the much welling up within us. I am aware that anything must strike you in the light of hopeless inadequacy, and I will not burden you with the feelings inevitably aroused in a heart which has beaten during these months in tune with yours. I will simply say that I am thankful to see restored to you that which I myself have lost.” After his congratulation Dominic turned and stumbled with bent head from the room.

“May I stay a little while with Griselda? I promise I will not talk,” said Bellamy.

“Yes, yes, do, my boy,” said Godfrey, going to the fireplace. “Well, I think the play and everything went off well. My dear children!” He turned and held out his arms. “You don’t know what to say, and I understand it. I hardly know myself. I am not surprised that you are dumb. I shall say to your mother, ‘Your children stood in silence to hear the news of your return. Their hearts were too full for words.’ And indeed it is too much to come at once. I felt it was. If I had known this evening that our lives were to need readjusting in a moment, I could not have welcomed my guests with the easy hospitality that I showed them. I do not think I fell short with them, either when I welcomed them in, or when I came in and gave them the tidings in my own way? That is a moment that would not have left your memories. But if anyone understands your being without words, it is I.”

“That is generous of you, as you are so different,” said Gregory.

“It is a wise and provident theory,” said Griselda.

“Neither on this occasion nor on any other can we fall short,” said Jermyn. “And the worst of reunions is the falling short. Reunions are perfect without it. Mother must feel that our tongue-tied welcome is a proof of our worth.”

“We shall have to give an account of our stewardships,” said Matthew.

“Matthew!” said his father on the moment. “Do you insinuate that everything has not gone on in your mother’s absence as if she had been with us?”

“You were ready to fit on the cap,” said Matthew.

“Indeed I was not. You read into others the fabrications of your own mind. I blush for you, Matthew. It almost seems that your own conscience is not clear.”

“We shall go on our way without a shadow,” said Gregory.

“My dear boy, you will,” said Godfrey. “My dears, we have clung together during these last months. We shall hold as closely in the time of test that is ahead of us. For all changes bring demands. We shall be equal to them by aiding and abetting each other, by uniting to aid our lost one to regain her foothold. Ah, sickness laid her low. Our wife and mother will return to us, and in spite of our being left without her guidance, will not find us wanting.”

“With the help of silence,” said Jermyn.

“I am glad to hear that definitely, Father,” said Matthew.

“I state it definitely, Matthew.”

“I wish you were the parson instead of me, Haslam,” said Bellamy.

“Well, I have had some little practice in speaking at times. You know I have a service every morning for my household. I think they have got to depend on it. Yes, well, we all do our little part. You must go, must you, Ernest? I will see you out.”

“Mother will be back again,” said Gregory, smiling to himself. “I have felt lately that she would.”

“You have taken Dufferin’s hints,” said Jermyn. “The rest of us waited for the actual words. Certainty is the only thing that counts.”

“Dufferin’s hints counted,” said Matthew. “That is why he used them with such care. He saw we needed to come by stages to certainty. We have not really taken the leap.”

“This is the scene of our welcome of Mother’s recovery,” said Griselda. “They say that such scenes fall short in actual life, so we may perhaps feel that this is up to the average.”

“Poor Father does not dare to return from the hall and settle down to the future,” said Matthew.

“That means nothing,” said his sister.

“It may mean more than that,” said Matthew.

“Oh, Mother will come home more herself,” said Jermyn.

“Anyhow she will come home,” said Gregory. “It is no good to give any thought to the occasion. All our little private preparation will be wasted.”

“I always wonder about this self of Mother’s that we hear so much of,” said Matthew. “We have never had a chance of seeing it. She may not have more than one self, any more than the rest of us have. And if she has not—”

He left the room as his father returned to it.

“Come, My Harriet, come, my girl, come to your home. Step across the threshold back into your old life. The other is nothing but a dream. There, you are back in your own nest. Your children are coming to welcome you, hurrying as fast as their limbs can carry them, to welcome their mother home! Yes, yes, kiss your mother, my sons. Give her a greeting as if she had only been away for a little time. That is all it is. Well, I see you all together again. I have looked for this moment as I have looked for no other in my life. I declare to you, Harriet, that if anyone had asked me what I would take to give it up, I should have said, ‘Nothing’. Nothing would have induced me to relinquish what I have been living for for months. For it has been that, my dear; not a little while, as I said just now. You know that now, my brave girl. There is nothing you can’t face.”

“Well, my darlings, you have a welcome for me? You can give me that, though I have been away so long. It has been a long while. I have had to learn that lately. And you have known it all the time, my poor ones, known it as the days dragged by. Now you can have your mother’s sympathy.”