Ivy Compton-Burnett - A Family and a Fortune

‘It would be an unwilling sacrifice,’ said Aubrey.

‘Another point to be made,’ continued Mr Penrose –

‘Yes, Mr Penrose, one moment,’ said Justine, leaning to her father and laying a hand on his arm, while glancing back at the tutor. ‘It is very kind and we are so interested, but one moment. Would it not be better, Father, to send the letter into the town to catch the afternoon post? Things always get to Grandpa in the morning if we do that.’

‘It might be — it probably would be better, I will write directly after luncheon, or as soon as we have decided what to say. What is Mr Penrose telling us?’

‘It does not matter, Mr Gaveston. I was only mentioning that in the experience of Mrs Penrose and myself — it is of no consequence,’ said Mr Penrose, observing that Justine had turned to her mother, and resuming the spoon.

‘Indeed it is of consequence,’ almost called Justine, leaning towards Blanche over Aubrey and giving another backward glance.

‘You have one of our seventeenth-century spoons?’ said Edgar.

‘Yes, Mr Gaveston, I was wondering if it was one of them. I see it is not,’ said Mr Penrose, laying down a spoon which his scrutiny had enabled him to assign to his own day. ‘You have some very beautiful ones, have you not?’

‘They are all put away, Mr Penrose,’ called Justine, in a voice which seemed to encourage Mr Penrose with the admission of economy. ‘We are not allowed to use them any more. They only come out on special occasions.’

‘Do go and write the letter, Edgar,’ said Blanche.

‘Poor Father, let him have his luncheon in peace.’

‘He has finished, dear. He is only playing with that fruit and wasting it.’

‘Waste not, want not, Father,’ said Justine, in a warning tone which seemed to be directed to Mr Penrose’s ears.

Edgar rose and left the room with his brother, and Justine’s eyes followed them.

‘Are they not a perfect pair, Mr Penrose?’

‘Yes, indeed, Miss Gaveston. It appears to be a most conspicuous friendship.’

‘What are you doing?’ said Blanche, suddenly, as she perceived her elder sons amusedly regarding the youngest, whose expression of set jauntiness told her that he was nearly in tears. ‘You are teasing him again! I will not have it. It is mean and unmanly to torment your little brother. I am thoroughly ashamed of you both. Justine, I wonder you allow it.’

‘I merely did not observe it, Mother. I was talking to you and Father. Now I certainly will not countenance it. Boys, I have a word to say.’

‘It is unworthy to torment someone who cannot retaliate,’ said Blanche, giving her daughter the basis of her homily.

‘I have managed to get my own back,’ said Aubrey, in an easy drawl, depriving her of it.

‘We were only wondering how to keep Aubrey out of Grandpa’s sight and Aunt Matty’s,’ said Mark. ‘A shock is bad for old and invalid people.’

‘You are silly boys. Why do you not keep out of their sight yourselves?’ said his mother.

‘That might be the best way to cover up the truth,’ said Mark, looking at his brother as if weighing this idea. ‘It would avoid any normal comparison.’

‘Suppose either should come upon him unawares! They have not seen him since we could hope it was a passing phase.’

‘A phase of what?’ said Blanche. ‘I do not know what you mean and neither do you.’

‘We thought a postscript might be added to the letter,’ said Mark. ‘So that they might be a little prepared.’

‘Prepared for what?’

‘Just something such as: “If you see Aubrey, you will understand.”’

‘Understand what?’ almost screamed his mother ‘You don’t understand, yourselves, so naturally they would not.’

‘Mother, Mother dear,’ said Justine, laughing gently, ‘you are pandering to them by falling into their hands like that. Take no notice of them and they will desist. They are only trying to attract attention to themselves.’

‘Well, that is natural at their stage,’ said Aubrey.

‘We did take no notice and they had reduced poor Aubrey nearly to tears,’ said Blanche, too lost in her partisanship of her son to observe its effect upon him.

‘They are naughty boys, or, what is worse, they are malicious young men, and I am very much annoyed with them. I did not mean that I was not.’

‘Then speak to them about it,’ said Blanche, standing back and looking with expectance born of experience from her daughter to her sons.

‘Boys, boys,’ said Justine gravely, ‘this will not do, you know. Take example from that.’ She pointed to the garden, where Edgar and Dudley were walking arm-in-arm. There is a spectacle of brotherhood. Look at it and take a lesson.’

‘So your father has not written the letter!’ said Blanche.

‘If you will excuse us, Mrs Gaveston, Aubrey and I should be thinking of our walk,’ said Mr Penrose, who had been uncertain whether the family had forgotten his presence.

‘Yes, of course, Mr Penrose, please do as you like,’ said Blanche, who had forgotten it, and even now did not completely recall it. ‘If he does not write it soon, it will have no chance of the post.’

Aubrey went up to his brothers and linked their arms, and taking a step backwards with a jeering face, took his tutor’s arm himself and walked from the room.

‘Dear, dear, what a little boy!’ said Justine. ‘I think Mr Penrose carried that off very well.’

‘Edgar!’ called Blanche from the window. ‘You are not writing that letter! And it has to go in an hour.’

‘We are deciding upon the terms — we are discussing the wording, my dear,’ said her husband, pausing and maintaining the courtesy of his voice, though he had to open his mouth to raise it. ‘It needs to be expressed with a certain care.’

‘Indeed,’ said Mark. ‘There is no need to employ any crudeness in telling Grandpa that we can’t do him too much charity.’

‘Oh, that is all right then,’ said Blanche, turning from the window. ‘There is no question of charity. That is not the way to speak of your grandfather. It is the coachman’s day out. Who had better drive the trap into the town? I have seen Jellamy drive. Would your father mind his driving the mare? I wish you would some of you listen to me, and not leave me to settle everything by myself.’

‘Mother, come and have your rest,’ said Justine, taking Blanche’s arm. ‘I will take the trap myself. You need have no fear. I also have seen Jellamy drive, and if Father does not grudge him the particular indulgence, I do.’

Blanche walked compliantly out of the room, relaxing her face and her thoughts together, and her husband and his brother passed to the library.

‘I think that will express it,’ said Dudley. ‘You are to drop a sum every year and not refer to it, and feel guilty that you take money from your wife’s relations for giving them a bare roof.’

‘I think it should be good for Blanche to have them. I hope we may think it should. I fear there may be — I fear — ’

‘I fear all sorts of things; I am sick with fear. But we must think what Blanche is facing. I always think that women’s courage is hard on men. It seems absurd for men and women to share the same life. I simply don’t know how we are to share Blanche’s life in future.’

‘I am never sure how to address my father-in-law.’

‘When we speak to him, we say “sir”. I like saying “sir” to people. It makes me feel young and well-behaved, and I can’t think of two better things, or more in tune with my personality. What a good thing that Blanche will not ask to see the letter! I have a great respect for her lack of curiosity. It is a thing I could never attain.’

Dudley drafted and dictated the letter, and Edgar wrote it and submitted it for his inspection, and then suggested a game of chess. When Justine came for the letter, the brothers were sitting silent over the board. They played chess often, Dudley playing the better, but Edgar playing for the sake of the game, careless and almost unconscious of success. Justine tiptoed from the room, mutely kissing her hand towards the table.