“No, no, it is only you we are to think of,” said Harriet.
“Because,” said Dominic, leaning forward in gathering consternation, “I could not allow myself to be a damper on youthful spirits.”
“Now, you need not give a thought to that, Spong,” said Godfrey. “You can be at your ease about that side of things. They all want to think of nothing but how they can fit themselves in with your spirit of to-day. Am I not right, my sons?”
“Yes, certainly, Father,” said Matthew, while Jermyn’s glance at his sister resulted in a tremble of hysterical sound, and Dominic’s half-smile told of a sympathy with her natural preoccupations, that would normally have resulted in a whole one.
“Well, now, Spong,” said Godfrey, “and what will you be doing in these next months? I mean, how will you be managing in your spare time? You won’t misunderstand an old friend’s concern?”
“Sir Godfrey, I shall have my work. There is much in it happily that tends to the benefit of others, and so to the steadying of my own spirits. As for spare time, I must do my best to avoid it.” He had the stoicism to smile.
“You are of a good heart and a good courage, Spong,” said Geoffrey, content, as often, with an approach to scriptural phrase.
“Do you find that your research work continues to hold your interest, Matthew?” said Dominic, sinking himself in another.
“Yes, I do completely,” said Matthew.
“You find it satisfying?” said Dominic, aware of Harriet’s feeling, and ranged on the side of power.
“Yes,” said Matthew. “It is like your work, and tends to the benefit of others; I should say to their ultimate benefit.”
“Perhaps rather ultimate, Lady Haslam,” said Dominic with an arch smile at Harriet, his general subdued condition not extending to his intercourse with the young.
“The risk of achieving nothing may be involved in the effort to achieve something,” said Harriet.
“Yes,” said Dominic, his smile becoming tender.
“Well put, my dear, “said Godfrey, with a note of surprise.
“Do you find that you slip into the minds of your clients when you are dealing with them, or that you hate them?” Gregory asked him with gentle interest.
“I certainly do not find that I hate them, Gregory. Of course my work brings me into contact at times with the sordid side of humanity. But there is much to compensate, much beauty of character, much heroic effort, much sacrifice of self. All things come together in the life I have chosen.”
“Isn’t it very dreadful to see sacrifice of self?” said Griselda.
“Miss Griselda, sometimes very beautiful.”
“It seems rather ruthless to be a satisfied spectator,” said Jermyn.
“Well, Jermyn, and are you still wrapped up in your poetry?” said Dominic, reminded of Jermyn’s tendencies by his own high words, and visiting his speech in his choice of phrase.
“Yes, wrapped up in it, absorbed in it, utterly engrossed in it to the exclusion of all juster claims.”
“Oh, well, Jermyn, moderation in all things,” said Dominic. “But it must be very beautiful, Jermyn, to go wandering about on the moors, notebook in hand, and jot down any little poetic thoughts”—Dominic made a waving movement with his hand— “that come to the mind with the beauty of everything around. To go roaming hither and thither, with nothing to do but let the fancies crowd through one’s brain. If the real business of life had not claimed me, if I had not been vowed upon a somewhat sterner altar, I should have been happy to take my share in the more graceful side of life.”
“Original verse must make more demand than professional work,” said Matthew, who did not cope with the problem of Dominic.
“Matthew means writing poetry seriously like a real poet,” said Griselda.
“Miss Griselda, I was not speaking of writing poetry seriously like a real poet. I am not confusing myself with Tennyson,” said Dominic, ending with mild laughter.
“Oh well, but Jermyn thinks of himself in that way. That is Jermyn’s spirit,” said Godfrey, not estimating his rashness. “He doesn’t put himself down as some amateur poet, wandering about jotting things down, not Jermyn. He is to be one of those who are looked up to by future generations. And I for one believe that he will be.”
“Ah, Jermyn, I have not been treating you with due respect. But, Jermyn, you will let an old friend say it? You must remember that to that position many are called, but few chosen.”
“Yes, that is so indeed,” said Jermyn, taken aback by this soundness.
Dominic rose as if his message were delivered.
“Lady Haslam, I have appreciated an hour that has brought home to me that family peace and unity still exist, in a world that I must not misjudge because it is emptied of them for me. I thank you.”
“Now, Spong, give a thought to us sometimes,” said Godfrey. “Come and spend a few hours at any moment, if you find your spirits sinking. We should take it as a kindness to us from you. We ask you to do us that kindness.”
“Sir Godfrey, I have already done it to you. Miss Griselda, I thank you for enough in thanking you for your presence. And, Matthew, I hope you did not misunderstand me in my attitude towards your work. I have the greatest reverence for the things of the intellect. But pride of intellect is a different thing, and leads into many stony ways. Thank you, Matthew, for your hospitality this afternoon.” Dominic’s manner recognised Matthew as the eldest son. “And, Jermyn, I hope some day to join you in your ramblings, and enrich my own notebook with the reflections that come to us in our communion with Nature. And, Gregory, my boy, if I may still call you a boy, I will say to you that it is a pleasure still to have a boy to say good-bye to.”
He went to the door, his back somehow conveying a feeling that he had shown himself rather conversible for his situation.
“Don’t be in a hurry, Spong; we will have the carriage in a minute,” said Godfrey.
“I have yet to respond, Sir Godfrey,” said Dominic, turning mechanically, “to another offer of kindness. Mrs. Calkin prevailed upon me to spend an hour at her house, and the distance is too short for me to be dependent upon your consideration.”
“Well, we will send the carriage to wait for you at her gate. Then we need not keep you at the moment, as her house is only half a mile away.”
Dominic paused in a dazed manner, and passed from the house. When out of sight he steadied his gait, but imperceptibly, as if in deference to himself.
Agatha Calkin came to her door to welcome him. “We have a great appreciation of your feeling you could come to us this afternoon. I hope you found it fitted in with your visit to the Haslams. You have been spending a little while with them, have you not?”
“Mrs. Calkin, I am moved by the willingness, nay, the eagerness, shown by my friends to bear with my company to-day. I was touched by your word, appreciation, as I came in.”
“Well, come into the drawing-room and make yourself quite at home. My sisters are waiting for you, but I felt I must come and let you in myself.”
“Mrs. Calkin, I trust I shall not discover myself ungrateful.”
“I hope you will. Gratitude is a strain at any time, and just now would surely be your end,” said Kate.
“You must expect us all to be grateful to you for not making yourself a burden,” said Geraldine. “I have always been the most! impossible burden at my times of stress, utterly unable to raise myself from the depths.”
“Miss Dabis, it has no doubt been much for a woman’s strength.”
“I have been saying that I felt I must go to the door to him myself,” said Agatha.
Geraldine raised her eyebrows in perplexity over this advantage.