Ivy Compton-Burnett - The Mighty and Their Fall

“What people do, who have been found out. Wait for the trouble to subside. Suffer it when it arises. Fight it, if it is too much. There is nothing else for you. And the worst is behind. You have little more to dread.”

“Father will never be behind. And there is Miss Starkie before me.”

“Oh, Miss Starkie,” said Selina.

“She has exalted me from the first. She had come almost to look up to me.”

“Well, that will end. And it is better that it should. It must appear that it is not your place. And you do not depend on her.”

“She does on me. This will alter her life in the house.”

“It need not affect yours. Do not give too much of yourself. You will meet with no return.”

“No, I have found it. Father had no thought of making any. I have gained Teresa against his will. She has been better to me than anyone but you. She has not even made light of it, as Uncle and Egbert have.”

“You wanted it taken as it was? It was what they tried to avoid.”

“Whatever I had done, I was in a hopeless plight.”

“And you wanted it greater, pushed to its limit? I know what you mean. It would have meant the end. But it would have been too much.”

“We are supposed to be better for our stumbles. I am not.”

“We are wiser. Not better. We are what we are.”

“It is true of me. What do you think of it, Grandma?”

“I am old. I have seen and heard. I know that things are done. Temptation is too much for us. We are not always unwilling for it to be.”

“All I did was to put a letter in your desk, instead of giving it to Father.”

“Yes, that was all,” said Selina.

“Many people have done worse things.”

“Than harming a father’s life? Well, some are worse.”

“I felt he would not be happy with Teresa.”

“Yes. It was he who felt he would.”

“And I don’t think he is very happy.”

“He is having what he can. It is she who is looking aside.”

“Do you mean I am harming his life in another way?”

“You did not succeed in the first. You can hardly help the second. And he has harmed yours. More than he needed for his ends.”

“You have not a high opinion of people, Grandma.”

“Why should I have? What of the examples before me?”

“You are shocked by what I have done.”

“I am shocked that you should do it. That is not speaking against you.”

“Should we dare to say it, Uncle?” said Egbert, as they overheard.

“I don’t know. And it does not matter. The trouble is that it was Lavinia. And that her trouble was so great. A dreadful question arises. Who will sort the letters now?”

“How true it is that small things can be the worst! One of us had better do it and say nothing.”

“It would be best for Lavinia to go on doing it. As if nothing had happened.”

“Unless Father behaves as if something has.”

“What are you discussing?” said Ninian.

“Oh, nothing, Father.”

“Nothing, of course. In other words our trouble. But what aspect of it?”

“Only a minor one, Father.”

“Of course. The main one is dealt with. And it presents no question.”

“This is not worth mentioning,” said Hugo.

“Then why did you find it so?”

“Pray do not talk like the head of the family, Ninian. Suppose someone should hear you!”

“I do what I must in the place. I should know the temper of the house. What is the minor point you speak of?”

“It was really a question.”

“Yes?” said Ninian.

“Well, answer it, if you can. Who is to sort the letters now?”

There was a pause.

“I will sort them myself.”

“Would it not be better for Egbert or me to do it?”

“For what reason?”

“It would call less attention to the change.”

“There will be no question. I am the head of the house, as we have said.”

“Well, you have,” said Hugo. “Who will tell Lavinia? If you say you will do that yourself, I will forestall you.”

“I am glad for you to do it. It will be at less cost to us all,” said Ninian, as he turned away. “Tell her also that I shall not mention it.”

“So Father is more sensitive than we are,” said Egbert.

“Yes. He felt he had to tell us. And we did not know.”

“And he is afraid of Lavinia. That is a happy thing. I am afraid of her, and so are you. And suppose he was the only one who was not!”

“I am afraid of what she feels. It must be on the scale of herself. Will you tell her about the letters? If her father can shrink from it, so can I.”

Egbert turned to his sister.

“Lavinia, you have asked yourself a question. I am able to answer it.”

“I have asked myself so many. Tell me just the answer.”

“Father is to sort the letters in future.”

“Oh! I had forgotten. Yes, I suppose he is. And I think it falls to him. But what will the servants say?”

“I had not thought of that. We never think of everything. If we did, you would have destroyed that envelope.”

“It is supposed to be good for us to be found out. I have so far felt no benefit.”

“The benefit is moral. And so better for other people than for us.”

“Did Father tell you he would sort the letters?”

“The subject came up. And he said he would do it. And he will not speak of it to you. I hope he is afraid.”

“We can hardly be at ease about the matter. I am glad to be spared. The moment could only be itself. What hours they have been! I have hardly been alive to them. But something has gone deep and will follow me. And there are things to come.”

“Surely there is nothing more.”

“The daily facing of Father. The being less at ease with you and Grandma; yes, even with you. Uncle is the exception. I don’t know why.”

“I believe I do,” said Hugo. “You feel I might have done what you have.”

“Would you have dared?” said Lavinia.

“No wonder you are at ease with me. We always are with people we look down on.”

“She has to be revenged on people,” said Egbert. “They appear to be better than she is. And she does not believe they are. No one could forgive them.”

Ninian came up to his daughter.

“Lavinia, the hour is behind us. It has been a dark one for us both. For me there is a weight of sorrow, and for you the heavier weight of your own. But nothing need prevent our going forward, as nothing can prevent our looking back. This is my last word of it. If part of the blame is mine, that is my atonement.”

He laid his hand on her shoulder and moved away, signing to his wife to follow. She remained where she was, and spoke to him across the distance.

“There have been too many words. You should know the time to forget. There are different kinds of wrong. The people sinned against are not always the best.”

“They are not,” said a sudden, deep voice. “They might be doing better now. It is a happy chance that I am here.”

“Ransom!” said Selina. “Ransom, my son! You are with your mother. You are in your home. Other things are nothing. My life is not at its end. The best of it is to come.”

There appeared a large, dark man, who would have borne a likeness to Selina, but for a heaviness that cumbered his features and his frame, and somehow told of failing health. He had stood by the door with Miss Starkie, seeking enlightenment as he needed it. The former had dismissed her pupils, and herself retained her place. He stood with his arm about his mother and spoke to anyone who heard him.

“The girl can come with me. My house is near. Home is not the place at such a time. It has no help for the young who have stumbled by the way. I can recognise the real wrong-doer. A wanderer has his use. Miss Starkie will see she is ready. We shall be going in an hour.”