There was a long silence.
‘Dear, dear, money, money, money!’ said Justine, leaning back and locking her hands above her head. ‘Directly it comes in, away fly dignity, decency, everything.’
‘Everything but true generosity,’ said Mark.
‘Dignity and decency depend up to a point on money,’ said Clement.
‘Indeed that is true,’ said Dudley. ‘You have only to go round the cottages. It seems absurd to say that money is sordid, when you see the things that really are.’
‘And that come from the lack of it.’
‘Why should it be sordid any more than any other useful thing?’ said Matty.
‘They say that it is a curse,’ said Dudley, ‘but I do not find it so. I like being a person to confer benefits. There, that is the worst.’
‘Dear Uncle!’ said Justine. ‘Enjoy your money and your generosity and all of it. You have never had a chance before.’
‘So you don’t think that the things I gave were more valuable than money. I knew that people never really did.’
‘To talk about money’s having no value is a contradiction in terms,’ said Clement.
‘Now I think that is honest, dear,’ said Matty.
‘Aunt Matty, you are going rather far in your implications,’ said Justine.
‘You do not go in for such things, dear, I know.’
Justine put back her head in mirth, the action so familiar in her aunt somehow throwing up her unlikeness to her.
‘That may be fair, but we won’t start, another skirmish. And I don’t take it at all as an insult, however it was meant. I am one for the direct and open line. Now here are the other elders, come in the nick of time to prevent our discussion from becoming acrimonious.’
‘They are running it fine,’ said Clement.
‘Well, have you made up your minds how to spend your uncle’s money?’ said Oliver.
‘Yes, we have,’ said Clement, pausing a moment to get the plan of his speech. ‘The house is to be put in repair for Father and Mark; there is to be an allowance for me; and something is to be done for Aubrey’s future.’
‘Oh!’ said Blanche. ‘Oh, it is too quick. I did not think it would all be arranged at once like that.’
‘Would it be better for being delayed?’
‘I don’t know what to say. It does not seem right somehow. I really feel almost ashamed.’
‘To tell you the truth, Mother, so do I,’ said Justine. ‘But I could not help it. I plead guilty to the suggestion about Aubrey’s future, but otherwise I can hold myself apart.’
‘As a benefited person, I feel that my tongue is tied,’ said Edgar. ‘The mention of me was adroit.’
‘It was simply true,’ said Clement.
‘Dudley, I don’t know what to say,’ said Blanche. ‘What can you think of them all?’
‘I feel that we are drawn closer. They will not spoil things for me by letting me feel alone. I don’t think Clement and I have ever been so close before, and I expect them to share my joy, and people ought not to share a feeling without sharing the cause of it. I should not think it is possible. And I should be ashamed of feeling joy over a thing like money, if no one felt it with me.’
‘There is something in that, I suppose,’ said Justine.
‘Well, it is nearly time for luncheon,’ said her mother. ‘I suppose I must not say any more. We have had such a nice walk. I feel all the better for it and Miss Sloane has quite a colour. It was so kind of her to come with me. Father, did you get your sleep?’
‘I slept like a child, my dear, as is well for a person approaching his second childhood.’
‘That is not the speech of someone doing that, Grandpa,’ said Mark.
‘Father, what a way to talk! Well, I must go and take off my things. Perhaps Miss Sloane would like to come with me. And then we should open these windows. You have all been in here all the morning.’
‘With all our selfish hopes and desires,’ said Clement. ‘But I wonder that Justine has not been like a breath of fresh air in herself.’
‘I expect she has,’ said Blanche, patting her daughter’s cheek.
‘I have certainly been a breath of something, Mother, but I believe it has been felt to be more like a draught. But it may have been fresh and wholesome.’
‘We did not talk about the good fortune all the time,’ said Matty. ‘We had our glimpse of other things. I gave them an early experience of my own, which amused them with its likeness to this one. Its likeness and its difference, shall we say? Well, what do you think of your aunt’s varied history? I see you are not to be allowed to dwell on it. Your mother is directing our attention to more material things.’
‘The luncheon will not improve by waiting, dear, and I like it to be nice for you all. Let the boys help you out of your chair.’
‘Thank you, dears, Miss Griffin will do it. I am more used to her,’ said Matty, forgetting that she had objected to Miss Griffin’s presence. ‘But she seems to be having a little nap. Wake up, Miss Griffin; even our pleasure days have their little duties, you know.’ Matty’s tone of rallying reproof changed as she found herself alone with her companion. ‘You appear to have fallen into a trance. You can’t come out just for enjoyment when you come with me. There is some thought of your being of a little use. You are not quite in the position of Miss Sloane.’
‘I did not know that you wanted any help.’
‘Of course I want the help you always give me. I cannot be deprived of the few little things I have, just because other people suddenly have so much. You need not lose yourself in their experience. It will affect no one but themselves. It will anyhow make no difference to you.’
‘You so often get out of your chair by yourself. I can hardly know when you want help.’
‘Well, understand that I always want it, when you are standing by doing nothing. It would not: be suitable for me to manage alone, when it is easier for me with help, and you are there to give it. I wonder you do not see it. But then I suppose you see nothing.’
‘Just fancy all that money!’ said Miss Griffin, who was used to meeting attacks as if she were unconscious of them. ‘I can hardly grasp it.’
‘You won’t have to. That is the last thing you will have to do. So that is what you have been doing instead of keeping your eyes open for my convenience. I see that a break from routine does not suit you. I must remember it.’
‘When a break comes very seldom, it does sometimes upset people,’ said Miss Griffin, in a lower tone.
‘Oh, you are going to be like that! That is to be the result of a little change and pleasure. I must see that you do not have it. I see that it does not work. I must take counsel with myself and arrange for your life to be nothing but duty, as that is what seems to suit you.’ Matty, as she spoke, was accepting Miss Griffin’s ministrations as if they were rendered by a machine, and indeed the latter could only perform them in this spirit. ‘Well, are we going in to luncheon, or am I going in alone? Perhaps you had better go straight home and be by yourself. That would probably make the best of you.’
Miss Griffin followed Matty without reply, and seemed consciously to change her expression to one of anticipation.
‘Come in, Miss Griffin,’ said Justine, as if Miss Griffin needed this encouragement and her aunt did not, an attitude more supported by fact than she knew. ‘Come in and sit by me. And Aunt Matty, take the seat by Father. And Miss Sloane on his other side, if she will.’
‘The seats are all arranged, dear,’ said Blanche.
‘Yes, Mother, but a word of help is not amiss. They were all standing about like lost souls. A large family party is the most baffling thing.’
‘I will sit on the other side of Miss Sloane,’ said Dudley, ‘and go over everything from the beginning. She can hardly check me; she does not know me well enough.’