'It's not the children, he said. 'It's just that I'm in a foolish state of mind.
'So am I! thought Mildred. Ah, Hugh, if you only knew how foolish! She said nothing, but advanced her hand to the Ann of his chair, ready to seize his hand in a friendly clasp when the next opportunity offered.
Hugh turned now and looked into her face and the shock of the straight gaze almost made her gasp. She had no expression ready for so direct a glance and with a sense of failure she fluttered and dropped her eyes. She wondered if she were blushing. She had forgotten what it felt like inside when one blushed.
'Mildred, said Hugh, 'we have known each other a long time. He said it solemnly.
'Yes. Her nervousness returned. She had not expected such a sudden, such a wonderfully rapid, approach to seriousness between them. 'I hope that I may speak to you from my heart, said Hugh. Mildred nodded mutely. She took his hand, pressed it, and laid it back on the Ann of the chair.
'I hope too, said Hugh, 'that you won't think I'm being terribly disloyal to poor Fanny.
Mildred didn't know whether or not to say no she wouldn't, so she simply approached her hand until, without grasping it, it was touching his. His big worried round face was close to hers. With very little movement she could have kissed him. Now it would come soon, the second kiss, to which the first kiss had so long looked forward. Lips parted, as she looked tenderly at him, she could feel her face moulded by the warm mobility of the feelings within.
'There's something strangely timeless about one's affection for people.
'I know — said Mildred. She took his hand in a firm clasp and held it, stroking it a little with one of her fingers. 'Dear Hugh —’ she said. She felt happy, surprised, excited, very moved.
'I hope I won't upset or annoy you by speaking frankly, he said. 'I didn't mean, when you came, to talk to you like this. But I'm surely old and foolish enough now to be able to talk when I want to and dispense with the dignity of silence.
'Talk, my dear, talk, breathed Mildred.
'I must have your advice, Mildred. It's about Emma Sands. Mildred let go of his hand abruptly. Hugh, who had apparently not noticed either her affectionate grip or its cessation, got up and began to pace about the room. His head passed and re-passed in front of the honey-coloured Tintoretto.
'I don't know whether you knew, said Hugh, 'but I was at one time very fond of Emma. He paused in the golden aura of the picture. 'Well, I may as well be frank with you, Mildred. I was dreadfully in love with Emma.
'Quite, said Mildred. She had not meant it to sound so dry.
'Ah, did you know? said Hugh. He looked at her eagerly, almost as if it would now give him pleasure to think that she had followed his adventures with interest.
'No, not really. I think I knew vaguely that you liked her.
Hugh seemed disappointed. 'Well, I was, he said, in a tone which was both aggrieved and complacent. He set off pacing again and as he did so a look of serenity settled on his face and he seemed for a while oblivious of Mildred. She could see his face rounded out, softened by the thoughts 'within, very much as her own face had been a moment since. His head seemed to grow larger and more radiant, as he said again, 'Yes, I was, I certainly was —’
He walked a little more and then stopped in front of her. 'I've never spoken of this to anyone. Well, Fanny knew, but I never talked about it. It's wonderful, it's remarkable, to talk about it now, to talk out aloud to someone, to utter her name. Bless you, Mildred, bless you, dear!
'You want to talk about — the past? said Mildred hopefully.
'Well, no, said Hugh. He had turned away from her again and lifted his face to the gold of the picture. 'I want to talk about — the present. Or rather — the future. Yes, he added with satisfaction, 'the future. It's rather miraculous to find that, even at my age, one has one!
Mildred felt that she had grown, in the big armchair, as dry and small as a nut. She said, 'You are young at heart, Hugh.
The conventional words seemed to give him pleasure. What a perfect fool he is, she thought, and she yearned over him.
'Perhaps I am after all, he said. 'But no one is more surprised than me. I told you Emma was at the funeral, didn't I?
'Yes.
'Ever since I saw her there, said Hugh, and his words had the resonance of a song, 'I have been able to think of nothing else. I've been in a haze of expectation like a boy, like a foolish boy. You would hardly credit it, would you, Mildred? He seemed to address the Tintoretto, and leaned forward to touch it very gently with his finger in a way that Mildred suddenly remembered from long ago. She was afraid — that if she tried to speak she might make some grotesque sound, so she remained silent.
'It's odd, he said, 'to keep love for someone stored up so long and then to find it fresh and alive at the end. I thought I had quite sealed up that tomb, but no — no.
'It's hard for me to imagine, said Mildred, trying out her voice briskly. 'But then I'm riddled with common sense. What are you going to do about it?
'Ah, well, said Hugh, and the exaltation faded and the old worried look came back, 'that's it. That's where I need your help, your advice. You know Emma. You know me. You must help me to be objective. I've really made myself thoroughly upset and anxious, worrying about this. I think it has even affected my health. I hope talking to you will have made a difference. Perhaps I shall find it has — and this Absurd state of mind will simply fade away. I wish it would. I looked forward to — some peace, just, well, holiday, after — I'm too old for this nonsense really, don't you think? Why should one make trouble for oneself when one's old?
'Heaven help us when we are too old to make trouble for ourselves, Mildred murmured.
'You must make up my mind for me, Mildred, said Hugh. 'Your asking me to come to India puts me, in a way, up against it. Should I go and see Emma or should I not? I haven't really any idea how she lives now. Whether there is — anyone else. Do you happen to know? He turned anxiously towards her.
'So far as I know there is — no one else. She retreated slowly back into the depths of the chair. The rain was beating down and it was quite dark in the room now except for the light from the picture which gilded half of Hugh's entreating face.
'But should I go, he said, 'or am I just being foolish — romantic, meddlesome, or worse? Why open an old wound? Only pain and chaos would follow if I went to see her. She wouldn't want, after all those years, to see me, would she? I was exaggerating of course just now. I'm not in love. I can't be, one isn't at my age. I can overcome this obsession — just by giving myself a good shake. You must help me, Mildred, you're so sensible. Why, you've no idea how much I rely on you! I think I feel better already. A long voyage would be just the thing, a long time away, travelling with you. Really, you must think me quite extraordinary, Mildred, a mild old fellow like me. You agree, don't you, it would be quite wrong to go and see her?
Mildred was right back now against the back of the chair, her forearms stretched stiffly out on the two Anns, as if she were pinned there. Once more in her mind's eye she saw dog-faced Emma, Emma in the short white tennis dress, defeated Emma talking to the boy Felix. She said, 'You want to go and see her, Hugh. You want to, you're longing to, you're dying to. Why deny that you're sort of, almost; ready to be, in love?
He let out a long sigh. He was silent a while. 'Yes. Then again, 'Yes. Yes.
Mildred relaxed slowly. 'Go then, she said. 'Go, go. Go and see her. You'll regret it forever if you don't.
'That's true, he said, nodding his head, 'that's quite true. I would regret it. His face turned again towards the Tintoretto and seemed to fill out once more. His lips parted, his eyes widened, and he threw his tonsured head back as his gaze moved up toward the face of the golden Susannah.