Ivy Compton-Burnett: Elders and Betters

“No, but Terence will be in a home of his own.”

“Well, so shall I. Father’s house must be that for me indeed. So I have no reason to find fault with him.”

“And it will not put land and water between you,” said Benjamin.

“No, but it must put other things,” said Anna.

“What things?” said Tullia, in light wonder.

“Oh, all the intangible things that rise up between a married man and his superseded relations,” said Anna, in a tone of being driven further than she had meant to go.

“Well, it would be sad to belong to those,” said Tullia, with a little laugh.

“If it is a laughing matter, it is all right.”

“Well, you make it seem one,” said Tullia, laughing again.

“We shall have to set about looking for a house,” said Anna, putting the final seal upon the coming change.

“Well, what is there wrong in that? You talk as if all your intentions were in some way unjustifiable. And they sound innocent enough.”

“I am glad there is to be none of the disapproval, that I somehow feared was in store.”

“But I have been thinking, Terence,” said Tullia, in a tone of turning to the serious aspect of the matter, “that I really must leave you to manage your house-hunting for yourself. I have not time to put my heart into it, and it is useless to do it in any other spirit. Father must have the lion’s share of me just now. Of course, if I can be of any help at the final stage, it is another thing.”

“We don’t want any help,” said Anna, with a look of surprise. “Choosing a home is a personal thing, and I am not quite without experience. I chose this house, and it has done for us very well. I have no qualms’ about leaving my men behind in it.”

“I wish I could say that sort of thing. But I can hardly leave my father for an hour, and must just submit to fate. Terence must understand or not, according as it is in him. But he has always been a good and comprehending person.”

Anna looked at her cousin with a grim half-smile.

“I don’t know why I should be talked to, as if I were not capable of taking my own place. I can get some kind of a home for Terence. You need not be afraid.”

“That is rather what I meant, Anna,” said Tullia, with open gravity. “A house has to have a soul that suits its owner, and if it isn’t easy for you to judge of it, I am at your service. That is all I meant.”

“I believe you meant a good deal more, but we will leave it like that at the moment. I am to seek your advice, if I am perplexed about the soul of our house. But it is not likely that I shall troubje you. I don’t much care for ready-made souls, and Terence and I will soon put our own life into it.”

Tullia glanced about the room, as if it threw some light for her on Anna’s words, and turned to talk to her father in a manner that implied that little was of moment to them outside themselves.

Thomas put his arm about her, and drew Anna to his other side.

“So I am to have two daughters instead of one, and at a time in my life when I am doubly grateful for what comes to me.”

“Are we supposed to comport ourselves as if people were seeing us for the first time?” said Tullia, putting her face on a line with her cousin’s.

“I wish we were doing that,” said Terence to Bernard. “We should get such a bad impression of them. And I only like people for their faults. That is why women are superior to men, that they are so full of petty failings. And I don’t think it is always fair to call them petty. It really places them above the beasts.”

“Oh, I can do my duty as a foil in a moment,” said Anna, throwing herself into place by Tullia.

“We ought to be alike, now that we are to be so much related,” said the latter. “Are you my cousin or my sister-in-law?”

“The first at the moment. Presently I shall be both.”

“No, it is too difficult,” said Tullia, shaking her head.

“Concentrate on the second relationship. The greater supersedes the less.”

“No, no, I don’t want to get as far as concentration. That is quite an uphill path.”

“Well, leave it to the future. That takes care of itself.”

“No, I will have you for a cousin, as I always have,” said Tullia, with an air of emerging from a dilemma. “I shall just refuse to admit any change.”

“How I do admire them!” said Terence.

“Show the whole of yourself, Tulliola,” said Thomas.

“Poor dear, was he jealous then?” said Tullia, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Was I thinking of cousins and sisters and not of him? But it really was a good deal to grasp, and my mind hadn’t room for any more.”

“I can see a look of Tullia in Anna, though you would not expect it,” said Terence. “It is not enough to be called a likeness.”

“I have seen two people more unlike,” said Bernard.

“I have not,” said Esmond.

“No, I don’t think I discern this new-found resemblance,” said Claribel.

“Your brothers are behaving with exemplary self-suppression,” said Tullia to Anna. “If Terence had been required to make this sacrifice, there would have been — well, lamentation and great weeping.”

“But you are not indulging in such an outbreak at the prospect of losing him,” said Bernard.

“Oh, you do not lose a brother,” said Tullia, as if in surprise at the misapprehension. “It is the woman who is submerged, never to rise again. It is rather a relief to cast off the problem of dividing myself between father and son. If I made a scene about losing Terence, well, there would be another one.”

“She is making the scene in her own way,” said Anna, in a low tone.

“You are being forbearing over it,” said Terence. “It is something that it is veiled.”

“I think I prefer the open method. It may be because I am not versed in any other. I have not a chance in these subtle contests, that are conducted under a disguise. My obvious shafts would not find a point open enough for them,”

“What is to be the date of the event that is casting its shadow?” said Esmond.

“I have not approached the matter yet,” said Terence.

“Oh, is Anna to name the day?” said Tullia, in a rather shrill tone. “I always think that is so courageous. Changing hands in public, as if one had been bartered and disposed of! It is a prospect to chill the stoutest heart.”

“I believe the day is my business,” said Terence; “and I shall prove myself able, when the time comes.”

“When the time comes!” said his sister, her laughter going on to a higher note. “What a phrase for the person who takes the initiative! We shall have to help you to the point, and that will bring shame on you and all of us.”

“If Terence is not proof against such things by now, he is in a sorry way,” said Esmond.

“I think his position is a proud one,” said Bernard. “If I were as honestly regretted, I should not be put out.”

“I deplore these exposures of the soul in public.”

“I thought they were skilfully disguised.”

“What is the good of transparent coverings?”

“They soften the outline,” said Bernard.

“Are you bickering about Tullia and me?” said Anna. “We can safely be left to cross swords with each other.”

“Cross swords,” said Tullia, in an idle tone. “That sounds a picturesque occupation. But I did not know that I was engaged in it. It is too energetic and exacting for me at the moment.”

“Oh, yours came out of its sheath. You cannot think we did not see it,” said Anna.

Tullia gave an easy laugh and let her eyes drift towards Thomas, as if he were seldom out of her mind.

“I am glad to have occasioned any interest,” she said on an absent note. “I cannot claim that my attention was equally held. You see there have been demands in my own life of late.”