‘Come in, whoever you are, and find a poor, wrought-up woman, tired of knowing nothing, tired of being alone. You have come to put an end to that. I am not quite forgotten. And do I see three dear faces? I am not forgotten indeed. But I have been feeling quite a neglected, sad person, and I am not going to sympathize with anyone. I have used up that feeling on myself. I know how the day was to go; I had my place behind the scenes; and I am just going to congratulate two of you on keeping your uncle. I know that I am striking the right note there.’
The three men greeted the women, Mark guessing nothing of the scene, Clement part of it, Dudley the whole.
‘Well, so I am to hear what has happened, all of it from the beginning. You tell me, Dudley. You are too interested in the whole panorama of life to be biased by your own little share. You know that I use the word, little, in its relation to your mind, not to mine. So tell me about it, and when it is all to take place, and what you will do with your wealth, now that it has come back into your hands. You won’t think there is anything I do not want to hear. I include all human experience in my range. You and I are at one there.’
‘I think you have got me over my first moment better than anyone,’ said Dudley, reminded of Blanche by her sister and catching the deeper strain in Matty’s nature. ‘I can really pretend that I feel no embarrassment. We ought not to feel any when we have done nothing wrong, but there are so many wrong things people do without feeling it, and so few they can have done to them. And being rejected in favour of a brother is not one of those. People will say that I am behaving well, but that I shall keep the most for myself by doing so, and how wise I am. They said it thirty-one years ago, and I remember it as if it were yesterday, and now it is happening again today. And you just said that my wealth had come back into my hands. And that is one of those words which we carry with us. I have never heard anyone say one of those before.’
Matty flashed her eyes over his face and touched the chair at her side.
‘Now you and I have to suffer the same sort of thing. I feel that my sister’s place will be filled, and that I have not quite the same reason for being here as I had, and not quite the same claim on her family. And people will say the things of me, as you say they will of you.’
‘Do you really think they will? I like someone else to have things said, but I expect we can depend on people.’
‘Miss Griffin, suppose you run away and find something to do,’ said Matty, in such a light and expressionless tone that she might almost not have spoken.
Miss Griffin, whose eyes had been fastened on the scene, withdrew them and went to the door, with her face fallen and a step slow enough to cover her obedience to a command. Matty turned to her nephews.
‘Well, you thought that you were to have a new aunt, and you are to have a new — what can we say? Well, we can’t say it, can we? You and I can’t. So we will just say that you are only to have one aunt after all. We do not want to cloud other people’s happiness, and we will not; we shall be able to steer our way; we will keep to the strait and narrow path. But now we have made our resolve, we will get what we can out of it for ourselves. Let us have our gossip. That is much less than other people are getting, and if we do not grudge them their big share, they must not grudge us our little one. So when did you see the first hint of change, the cloud no bigger than a man’s hand?’
‘We saw no cloud until it broke,’ said Mark.
‘Let me get my word in at once,’ said Dudley, ‘or I shall feel more awkward. It is best to take the bull by the horns. That is a good figure: it shows that we are talking of a terrible thing. Well, the cloud fell on me, sudden and complete, and I lifted my head and went forward. I told people myself; I went through my strange task, shirking nothing, and adding my own note with what was surely the most heroic touch of all. I am sure you would not dare to pity me. If you would, I must just face the hardest part.’
‘Well, you know, I do not feel that about pity. I often feel that I deserve it and do not get my share. People so soon forget to give it.’
‘That is another kind thing to say. But is pity really better than forgetfulness? Then I have still to suffer the worst indeed.’
‘Justine wants to know if you will join us at dinner, Aunt Matty,’ said Mark. ‘We can send the carriage when you like.’
‘Mark thinks I am talking too much about myself. Forgetfulness is already coming, and I see how bad it is. And coming so soon too! It is the only thing that could do that.’
‘What time, Aunt Matty? Justine was firm on the point. She wants an exact answer.’
‘Dear Justine! A time is always exact, I should have thought. Well, a quarter to seven, if that is not too early, if she can do with me so soon. She is still the regent in the house.’
‘I suppose Mark wanted to save me from myself. He is afraid that I may run on and not dare to stop, for fear of the silence that may follow. He has noticed that is my tendency. So will someone speak at once?’
‘Well, perhaps half past six,’ said Matty, with immediate and smiling response. ‘Half past six and brave, bright faces. We have all made up our minds. So good-bye for the moment and good luck to our resolve. And tell Justine exactly half past six.’
‘You go on and take the message,’ said Dudley to his nephews. ‘And I will have a word with Miss Griffin. I find her regard for me very congenial. This trouble has come from someone’s being without it.’
Miss Griffin was lingering in the hall with almost open purpose.
‘Well, you and I have more than ever in common, Miss Griffin. People think too little of both of us. I have been rated below my brother, and I am wondering if it will add to me to accept the view. Everyone feels that that ought to be done for me just now, and keeps trying to do it. And we ought to do what we can for ourselves.’
‘We don’t all think you are below him.’
‘Most people do, and I expect I shall accept the judgement of the many, though it is known to be a silly thing to do. I am glad you are not so foolish.’
‘I am not indeed; I mean, I don’t accept it.’
‘Of course I may be inferior to him. It is true that when I inherited money, I thought it put me on a pedestal. And when I gave it away, I thought it was wonderful. To give away money that cost me nothing to gain. But between ourselves I am still inclined to think it was. And I am not sure that he would have done it.’
‘Anyhow it was unusual.’
‘So now I am going to give it back, because if you can part with money, you can do something that very few people can do.’
‘I suppose people could do it if they liked,’ said Miss Griffin, in sincere thought.
‘No, they could not. They are the slaves of money, not its masters.’
‘It seems funny, doesn’t it?’
‘I used not to understand it. But when I had money myself, I understood. I had to act quickly in case I became a slave. I nearly became one.’
‘But you did not quite.’
‘No, but soon afterwards I did. I fee! I must speak so that you can only just hear. I asked for the money back again.’
Miss Griffin smiled as if at a child.
‘Did you not know that?’
‘No.’
‘Isn’t it extraordinary that such news does not spread? I should like so much to hear that about anyone. I did not know that people were so unimportant. And they are not: everyone is important.’
‘Of course everyone is.’
‘Do you feel that you are?’
‘Everyone ought to be.’
‘I am afraid I am thought important because of what I can do. And it may be the same with you.’ ‘I cannot do much for anyone.’ ‘I thought you did everything for Miss Seaton.’ Miss Griffin looked aside.