‘A dangerous place to be,’ said Mark.
‘I suppose I shall subscribe to hospitals. That is how people seem to give to the poor. I suppose the poor are always sick. They would be, if you think. I once went round the cottages with Edgar, and I was too sensitive to go a second time. Yes, I was too sensitive even to set my eyes on the things which other people actually suffered, and I maintain that that was very sensitive. Now I shall improve things out of recognition, and then I can go again and not recognize anything, and feel no guilt about my inheritance.’
‘No one can help being left money,’ said Miss Griffin.
‘That is not on any point,’ said Matty lightly.
‘I don’t know, Aunt Matty; I don’t think I agree with you,’ said Justine. ‘But I have disagreed with you enough; I will not say it.’
‘Well, it may be as well not to let it become a habit, dear.’
‘Justine dear, come and sit by me,’ said Blanche.
‘Oh, you mean to be repressive, Mother. But I feel quite irrepressible this morning. Uncle’s good fortune sets my heart singing even more than yours or Father’s would. Because he has been the one rather to miss things himself and to see them pass to other people, and to see it in all goodwill. And that is so rare that it merits a rare compensation. And that the compensation should come, is the rarest thing of all. “My heart is like a singing bird, whose nest is in a water’d shoot”.’
‘Are we all going to stay in the whole morning?’ said Blanche. ‘Justine, it is not like you to be without energy.’
‘Surely an unjust implication,’ said Mark.
‘Well, we can hardly bring Miss Sloane and Miss Griffin up here, Mother, and then escort them out again at once.’
‘They might like to join us in a walk round the park. I sleep so much better if I get some exercise, and I expect we shall sit and talk after luncheon.’
‘An indulgence which can be expiated in advance by half an hour in a drizzle,’ said Clement.
‘Well, what do you feel, Miss Sloane?’ said Justine.
‘I should like to go with your mother.’
‘And you Miss Griffin?’
Miss Griffin opened her mouth and glanced at the fire and at Matty.
‘Miss Griffin prefers the hearth. And I don’t wonder, considering the short intervals which she probably spends at it. So you set off with Miss Sloane, Mother, and the rest of us will remain in contented sloth. I believe that is how you see the matter.’
Blanche began to roll up her silks without making much progress. Justine took them from her, wound them rapidly round her hand, thrust them into the basket, and propelled her mother to the door with a hand on her waist. Maria followed without assistance, and Blanche shook herself free without any change of expression and also proceeded alone. Matty at once addressed the group as if to forestall any other speaker.
‘Now I must tell you of something which happened to me when I was young, something which this occasion in your lives brings back to me. I too might have been left a fortune. When we are young, things are active or would be if we let them, or so it was in my youth. Well, a man was in love with me or said he was; and I could see it for myself, so I cannot leave it out; and I refused him — well, we won’t dwell on that; and when we got that behind, he wanted to leave me all he had. And I would not let him, and we came to words, as you would say, and the end of it was that we did not meet again. And a few days afterwards he was thrown from his horse and killed. And the money went to his family, and I was glad that it should be so, as I had given him nothing and I could not take and not give. But what do you say to that, as a narrow escape from a fortune? I came almost as near to it as your uncle.’
‘Was that a large fortune too?’ said Miss Griffin.
‘It was large enough to call one. That is all that matters for the story.’
‘You ran very near the wind, Aunt Matty,’ said Justine. ‘And you came out well.’
‘I shall be obliged to take and not give, if no one will accept anything from me,’ said Dudley. ‘Because I am going to take. Indeed I have taken.’
‘You have not been given the choice,’ said Miss Griffin.
‘Well, well, we all have that,’ said Matty. ‘But there is not always reason for using it. There is no obligation to seek out connexions when there is no immediate family. This friend of mine had brothers.’
‘I wish you would not put such thoughts into words,’ said Dudley.
‘I can’t help wishing that he had not had them, Aunt Matty,’ said Justine. ‘You might have had a happier life or an easier one.’
‘An easier later chapter, dear, but I do not regret it. We cannot do more than live up to the best that is in us. I feel I did that, and I must find it enough.’ Matty’s tone had a note of truth which no one credited.
‘I find it so too,’ said Dudley. ‘My best is to accept two thousand a year. It is enough, but I do wish that people would not think it is more.’
‘Two thousand a year!’ said Miss Griffin.
‘Well, it is between a good many,’ said Matty. ‘It is so good when a family is one with itself. And you are all going to find it so.’
‘To accept needs the truest generosity,’ said Dudley. ‘And I am not sure that they have it. I know that people always underrate their families, but I suspect that they only have the other kind.’
‘It is that kind which is the first requirement,’ said Clement.
‘Clement, that remark might be misunderstood,’ said Justine.
‘Or understood,’ said Mark.
‘I don’t think I should find any difficulty in accepting something I needed, from someone I loved. But I am such a fortunate person; I always have all I need.’
‘There, what did i say?’ said Dudley An utter lack of true generosity.’
‘I will go further,’ said his niece. I will accept an insurance of the future of my little Aubrey. Accept it in my name and in that of Father and Mother, I think I am justified in going so far.’
‘It is all very well to laugh, Clement,’ said Dudley, ‘but how will you look when it appears that your brothers have true generosity, and you have none?’
‘I can do as they do and without having it. It seems to me to be the opposite thing that is needed.’
‘Clement, be careful!’ said Justine, in an almost stricken tone.
‘People are always ashamed of their best qualities and describe them in the wrong way,’ said Dudley. ‘Clement will accept an allowance from me and let me forget that my generosity is less than his.’
‘Then he is a dear, sensible boy,’ said Matty.
‘Sensible certainly,’ said her nephew.
‘Well, Clement, I don’t know what to say,’ said Justine.
‘You can say what you will say to Mark and Aubrey.’
‘Well, I suppose that is fair in a way, but it does seem that there is a difference. But I will say nothing. The matter is taken out of my hands.’
‘It was never in them.’
‘Now don’t take that line with your sister. That does not make matters better.’
‘I have no wish to improve them. I find them well enough.’
‘I am afraid you do, Clement.’
‘Now that is not sensible, dear, and perhaps not even quite kind,’ said Matty.
‘It seems fair that all three brothers should have something, if two have,’ said Miss Griffin.
‘Well, it is really a matter for the family.’
‘Aunt Matty, don’t snub Miss Griffin in public like that,’ said Justine. ‘That is certainly not quite kind.’
‘My dear, you may have a way of coming between people, but between Miss Griffin and me there is our own relation.’
‘I am afraid there is, Aunt Matty.’