“I did not mean that I only felt discomfort for myself,” said Anna.
“Anything else would hardly improve your address,” said Esmond.
“Well, let us stop talking about our manners. We shall only become acrimonious.”
“I must point out that I have not mentioned mine.”
“No, not in words,” said his sister.
“Anna was dealing with drawbacks in manners,” said Bernard. “You did not feel called upon to make a personal contribution.”
“Which has the more peculiar face, Cook or Ethel?” said Reuben.
“Oh, which has?” said Jenney, in interest so great that it almost became excitement.
“Is it important to decide?” said Claribel, keeping her features towards the fire, and holding a letter to protect them from the heat, and perhaps from any other assault.
“Esmond has the classic features of our family,” said Anna, in a tone that made little of the circumstance.
“Esmond is blushing!” said Reuben, capering from foot to foot.
“A thing you will not do for a similar reason,” said Esmond, idly reaching for a book.
Ethel brought in the evening paper, and Reuben caught Bernard’s eye and went into mirth.
“He is excited by the move,” said Ethel to Jenney, with a kindness that did her credit, considering the effect of the change on herself.
“I wish it would work like that on me,” said Anna. “A move to a new home thrusts me down into the depths.”
Ethel gave a faint sigh, as if others might have to contend with such a barrier to spirits.
“Cook says she feels that houses have natures like ourselves,” she said.
“I hope she finds this one congenial,” said Bernard.
“Well, sir, Cook is sensitive to atmosphere.”
“So it is antipathetic to her?”
“Well, sir, she does feel it a trifle eerie.”
“Do you mean haunted?” said Reuben.
“Well, Master Reuben, we don’t know its history,” said Ethel, prepared to accept any foundation for Cook’s feeling.
“Come, there couldn’t be a brighter house,” said Jenney.
“There are always the nights, Miss Jennings.”
“Those might be brighter of course,” said Esmond.
“The moonlight only adds to it,” said Ethel.
“Adds to what?” said Anna.
“To what is not of this world, Miss Anna. Cook heard a shriek last night.”
“An owl,” said Reuben.
“A hunted rabbit,” said Esmond.
“Oh, me with a nightmare!” said Jenney, as if it occurred to her by some chance to mention this.
“Cook with a nightmare, I should think,” said Anna.
“Cook does not sleep until the small hours, Miss Anna,” said Ethel, in definite reproach.
“Then why does she go to bed so early?”
“It rests her limbs, Miss Anna.”
“But does the opposite for some other parts of her,” said Bernard.
“Cook is inured to it, sir.”
“Well, the shriek is explained,” said Anna.
“It was on the stroke of midnight,” said Ethel, as though Jenney’s dream could hardly have been timed to this, going to the door before any explanation could be given.
“Dear, dear, what a night!” said Claribel. “Cook lying awake and Jenney suffering from nightmare! I feel a most insensitive creature, in that I enjoyed normal repose. Perhaps I had already brought my room under my own spells.”
“I did not sleep very well,” said Anna.
“I trust these effects are not going to be permanent,” said Esmond. “The family life would suffer.”
“It already has its problems,” said his sister.
“What are they, Anna?” said Reuben, pushing up to her.
“Father is the first, I am afraid. He misses his work, and he is too much alone. I have not contrived to be the classic companion-daughter.”
“And I am the second,” said Reuben. “How I am to be fitted to take my place in the world. Our relations will make it worse by showing they are thinking about it.”
“They may spare a thought to other subjects,” said Esmond.
“But I shall not be able to believe that,” said Reuben, quickly. “So it will not improve matters for me.”
“But it will for them,” said Esmond, making a sudden movement with his foot, that resulted in a blow for his brother.
“That is not a suitable thing to do, Esmond,” said Anna. “You can hardly need to be told that.”
“Then why act on the opposite assumption?”
“This moment will always return to Esmond with a pang of shame,” said Reuben. “He has hurt himself more than me.”
“Was it your weak leg, Reuben?” said Jenney, in a tone low enough to escape Esmond’s ears, or to seem to be designed to do so.
“No, even in his temper Esmond guarded against that.”
Benjamin returned to the room, glanced at his seat which Bernard had taken, and remained standing until his son relinquished it.
“How are the aunts, Father?” said Anna.
“Well, I find them further on in their lives.”
“Do you find Aunt Sukey worse? You were afraid you would.”
“Her trouble progresses, and there seems no chance of cure. It is hard for her to live without hope.”
“And she has not found life easy at the best of times.”
“I hardly think she has. Her sister has been her help. But she had a welcome for her brother,” said Benjamin, whose tone in speaking of his sisters seemed to come from another man.
“Such family devotion as yours is very unusual, Father.”
“The relation of brother and sister goes back to the first days. It has its roots in the beginning. There may be stronger feeling, but never the same understanding. It is not your time to know it.”
“Is Aunt Jessica just the same?”
“She forgets herself until life itself seems to forget her. But I saw how her family depend on her, and her sister the most of all. And that fulfils her own need.”
“It seems a pretty good demand on someone who is not too sound. Isn’t she supposed to be a thought weak in the nerves?”
“Your cousin, Terence, has offered to teach you for the time, Reuben,” said Benjamin, seeming not to hear his daughter. “And I have accepted his offer.”
“Well, that would be a solution,” said Anna. “There is no school near. And a tutor is never too easy to arrange in a small household.”
“What does Reuben say to that?” said Esmond.
“Of course I thought my education was finished,” said his brother.
“Is Terence to do it out of kindness, Father?” said Anna. “Or are you to make it worth his while?”
“The latter, but it will save me some expense.”
“I daresay the lad will do his best,” said Reuben. “And no doubt he will treat my handicap with delicacy.”
“That is more than can be said of boys at school,” said his sister. “But Terence has troubles in his own family. He ought not to make so much of it.”
“So there will be subjects for us both to avoid.”
“I daresay you could both make blunders, if you tried, but there will be no need to do so.”
“I think you will not regret giving my suggestion a trial,” said Benjamin to Reuben, in his tone of ironic equality. “Terence seems an intelligent young man.”
“Reuben will soon find out if he is not,” said Anna.
“It is his verdict on Reuben that will be the point,” said Bernard.
“When do we pay our respects to the other family, Father?” said Anna.
“I am the bearer of a message asking you all to come tomorrow.”
“In a body?” said Esmond, turning his eyes to his sister.
“Your aunt did not separate you in her invitation,” said Benjamin.