“You have all mine,” said his brother. “And I thought the troubles brought on ourselves were the worst?”
“The most disturbing,” said Naomi. “But not the worst. We are not quite so careless of our own welfare.”
“I should never bring troubles on myself,” said Graham. “And I hardly think it is often done.”
“It seems it ought to be,” said Walter. “To leave them to come on other people, and be immune ourselves, seems so self-regarding.”
“The immunity cannot be relied on,” said Julia. “I have not been immune.”
“Then of course it cannot,” said her son; “or you would have been.”
“Hamish is a person I never quite understand,” said Graham.
“Do we understand anyone?” said Julia.
“Yes, many people fairly well, Grandma.”
“You mean you think so.”
“No, I mean what I said. That is what you mean.”
“What is your trouble?” said his father.
“Well, he seems to do and think what I should not myself.”
“Do not most people do that?”
“No, most people do just the same.”
“Most people would have kept their inheritance,” said Walter.
“Yes, and that is the same.”
“But you like your new position, in spite of knowing that,” said Ralph.
“I said I was the same as most people,” said his brother.
“Hamish is easily influenced,” said Fanny. “That is all it is.”
“So it is well that he has come under the influence he has,” said Simon. “And I do not mean what I can be taken to mean.”
“No, I suppose not,” said his wife, smiling. “You would hardly dare to mean it.”
“It is good to be back in this house for the end of my life,” said Julia. “I thought I had left it for ever. It seems to me now that I have hardly been away.”
“It almost does to me,” said Simon. “It is because our hearts were here.”
“So Father’s heart was not with us,” said Ralph. “That seems to explain a good deal.”
“What are you whispering?” said Simon. “I suppose you do not say it aloud, in case we should hear. Well, it may be a good reason.”
“Was Father’s personality here as well as his heart?” said Graham. “That was not with us, if this is what it is. No wonder he was glad to return, when so much of him was left behind. It must have been awkward to be without it.”
“Well, we know it was,” said Naomi.
“My Naomi is more herself,” said Simon. “Our home gives its help to all of us.”
“It must give the least to her,” said Ralph.
“You cannot leave it unsaid? Ah, well, you have been through a disturbing time.”
“I thought Father’s personality was leaving us again for the moment,” said Graham. “We are used to being without it, but where would it go? It would hardly pay a visit to the other house.”
“It was never there,” said Simon, as he overheard. “It never found it a home. It was something torn in two.”
“It is strange that a house should absorb a human being,” said Fanny. “I could have made my home under any roof.”
“If I had not prevented it,” said her husband. “But I could not see you or your children there. To me it was hardly a shelter for you.”
“You saw it as the one we were to have. There was to be no other.”
“I wonder if I did,” said Simon, almost to himself. “Did something tell me that my place was here, that my service to it made it mine?”
“Not until Marcia told you. It is one of the things you learned from her.”
“Walter, you are glad to be here again? It is your home as well as mine?”
“You know I grew up here with you.”
“But I did not,” said Fanny. “The house may be too much for me, as it was for my sister. And as it seems to be to my children.”
“It will be other things,” said Simon. “It is many more.”
“What are they?” said Ralph. “I don’t mean I do not see them. But I like to have things put into words.”
“It is beautiful and complete in itself, and tells of a generous life lived in it for centuries.”
“Lived by whom?” said Naomi.
“By a family who thought of the people about them, and strove to meet their needs.”
“And looked for return in good measure. They arranged for the generous life. They must have approved of it.”
“What do you say, Deakin?” said Walter. “You are the authority here.”
“Well, there was dependence on the large house, sir, when there was such a thing. There was no call on people to be generous. And I would not have applied the term to many.”
“And now they have what they need?”
“Yes, sir, and so the term is not in question.”
“I am glad of that,” said Walter. “I don’t like to think of human generosity. I can imagine what a strain it would be. I have never had anything to spare, and it would be one then. But I fear I am a person who finds it difficult to give.”
“You would not have given your mite, if you had been the widow?” said Graham.
“Not unless I had known the credit I should have. I think the mite did well for her. But I feel I should not have had it.”
“Hamish has not had enough for what he has done,” said Julia.
“If he had, we could not accept it,” said Graham. “And he meant us to do that.”
“Or Marcia did,” said Fanny.
“Well, it was the same thing, Mother.”
“Yes, it had come to be.”
“Hamish likes to be led,” said Walter. “I should like it myself, if anyone would lead me. We need not stress it too much.”
“We are not doing so,” said Fanny. “We are like you, and do not want to think of human generosity.”
“He did not wish for credit,” said Simon. “Should we have in his place?”
“We should not have been in it,” said Naomi. “That shows how we should have wished for it.”
“It would have been my reason for being in it,” said Ralph.
“It was not his,” said Simon.
“It seems odd that he should have the title and not the place. Not even Marcia can help that. And it will go to their descendants.”
“Either his branch or mine will be without a son in the end. The two will be united. I have no fear.”
“I suppose you would be glad, if he had no son?”
“I had not thought of it. I see it would simplify things.”
“Would you like to be Sir Simon?”
“If it fell to me. But it will not. And enough has done so.”
“Father’s imagination has been at work,” said Ralph to his sister.
“Well, why should it be idle? And it has not gone far beyond the truth.”
“It has had no reason to. Mine would have been of little use, if it had done no more.”
“Well, I daresay it has done you good, whatever it has done,” said Simon. “I think being carried beyond ourselves carries ourselves further.”
“This change that has come over Father! How far can we depend on it? Suppose we put it to the test and found it fail! I wonder he does not feel conscious about displaying it.”
“He is too happy to care,” said Naomi.
“And why should I disguise it?” said Simon. “I did not disguise my unhappiness. And one is as natural as the other. I have my home and my family, and little fault to find with either. And they fit each other, as I felt they would.”
“We shall soon have to pay Father a return compliment,” said Ralph. “I cannot be the one to do it. I have not his gift for carrying off a personal change. I cannot be his true son. Well, I have never thought I was. And neither has he.”
“What are you saying about me?”
“That I am not your true son, sir.”
“Well, all we have to do is to be ourselves.”