Miranda smiled to herself and took up the paper. She discussed public matters with her husband on equal terms. When the latter came in, he broached a personal one.
“Where is Miss Wolsey?”
“She has gone to her room. I do not keep her on a lead. You need not ask where she is, whenever you do not see her.”
“I wondered what had happened to her.”
“Why, what should happen?”
“Your talk might have been too much for her.”
“It was as much as she liked, but no more than she needed. I think she saw that, though she pretended not to. She did her part rather well. She is not a stupid woman.”
“What did you have to say to her?”
“Really only one thing. But it took its own kind of saying.”
“You mean it was a thing that really could not be said?”
“By many people perhaps. There is nothing I cannot say.”
“That is what I was thinking,” said her husband.
Rosebery came into the room and looked about him.
“Where is Miss Wolsey, Mother?”
“You can ask your father. I cannot tell everyone who comes in, the same thing.”
“She has gone to her room,” said Julius.
“Will she be down to dinner?”
“Well, she will not want to miss her meals,” said Miranda, just uttering the words. “That is not her object in coming.”
The children entered and also looked about them.
“‘Where is Miss Wolsey?’” said their aunt.
“Well, where is she?” said Francis. “Not fled the house so soon?”
“Gone to her room,” said Rosebery. “A most natural thing to do.”
“In a state of collapse?” said his cousin.
“Why, what should be the reason for that?”
“I thought she had had a talk with Aunt Miranda.”
“You will have one yourself, if you are not careful,” said his aunt.
“Your youth and dependence, Francis, may render you liable to criticism from which she would be immune.”
“She is coming downstairs,” said Miranda, in a tone of mild caution.
Hester entered, took in the group, and came towards it.
“I have unpacked and settled down and made myself presentable all in an hour. Have I not done well?”
“Answer her, some of you,” said Miranda, wearily. “It is to you she is speaking.”
“You flatter us, as you know, Mother,” said Rosebery. “But if we are to answer, she has done well indeed, and we congratulate both her and ourselves on the result.”
“Go on talking to her,” said his mother, with her hand to her head. “And let her talk to you. Who would want to attend to anyone as old and tired as I am? She does not.”
“It is just what I do want to do,” said Hester. “I find it a most interesting duty. There is great charm for me in experience; and I understand its natural impatience with those who have had less of it. And I have suspected the tiredness all along.”
“It did not account for what I said to you,” said Miranda, on a warning note. “That stands as it did. It was necessary to say it, and no one could do it for me.”
“It is fortunate that the duty did not fall on anyone else,” murmured Francis.
“Is it?” said his sister. “Then it would not have been done. And now nothing can undo it.”
“It has been a long day,” said Miranda. “It seemed to start again at tea-time. I do not pretend I am not tired out. I am not in the habit of pretending.”
“A statement no one would dispute, Mother,” said Rosebery.
“I fear you have had proof of it, Miss Wolsey,” said Julius.
“Oh, we most of us give proof of what we are.”
“When the obvious course would be to disguise it.”
“Dinner is served, ma’am,” said Bates.
Miranda rose and walked from the room, and Hester looked round and then followed her.
“What have we before us?” said Francis.
“Whatever it is, Francis,” said Rosebery, glancing back, “you will remember that my mother is what she said herself, old and tired; and you will behave to her as a nephew who is indebted to her, would properly behave.”
“It is a hard thing to be indebted to anyone.”
“Wouldn’t it be worse not to be?” said Adrian.
“I am glad you realise it, Adrian,” said Rosebery.
“Why are they all downstairs, Bates?” said Miranda. “Is there no schoolroom meal to-night?”
“The sweep has been, ma’am.”
“What is that to do with it?”
“It is how Cook expressed it, ma’am.”
“Well, you will all three sit in silence. I cannot brook forwardness to-night. And you talk to your father, Rosebery. I cannot take any part. Sit down, Miss Wolsey; no, not by me; there, between the men. I am not equal to talking to a stranger, and as yet you are only that.”
“You have found her equal to it, Miss Wolsey,” said Julius.
“Oh, I understood. I am not an unperceptive person, and I am here to understand. And although I am interested in experience, I can realise the burden of it. The interest would not be real, if I could not.” Hester lowered her tone and sent a swift smile into Julius’s face. “And I know I am another woman where there has been only one. And I shall know what it explains. It may take another woman to do so.”
“Another woman is what we have needed. My wife has seen it herself. The suggestion was her own. The evil days have come for her, and so for my son and me. It should be for us to help her, but she chose another kind of help. And I am glad of any kind.”
“I think I shall be able to give it. I shall know when the words are to be accepted, and when forgotten. It is my sex that is the trouble. I would alter it, if I could. But it will soon become a matter of course. A woman is not an uncommon thing.”
“A circumstance for which we all have to be grateful,” said Rosebery.
“What circumstance is that?” said Miranda.
“That women are not uncommon, Mother. If they were, we should be sadly placed.”
“They are supposed to be too common in this country,” said Hester. “We hear about superfluous women.”
“Miss Wolsey, it is those we can depend on in our need.”
“Is your friend a superfluous woman, Miss Wolsey?” said Miranda, with her head again on her hand. “I mean, is she also unmarried?”
“Mother! You should say what you mean,” said Rosebery.
“She did explain it,” said Alice.
“Yes, she is unmarried,” said Hester, smiling with the rest. “That is why our friendship is a good one. There is no better kind than that between two single women.”
“Miss Wolsey, I can believe it to be so,” said Rosebery. “Indeed we have all observed cases of it.”
“Have we?” said Miranda. “I had not. But I have not thought much about single women.”
“Well, Mother, you will think about one now. You will want her to think about you.”
“The cases are not parallel.”
“They are not indeed,” said Hester. “The thinking is my province, and I have been doing it. I hope you will come with me one day, Mrs. Hume, and see my home and my friend, and yes, I must say it, my cat. It would be a pleasure to all of us.”
“I should like to come,” said Miranda, in a different tone. “I should enjoy seeing your background, and it would help me to know you better. You are seeing mine, and it would put us on equal terms.”
“Miss Wolsey, you are much to be congratulated,” said Rosebery, in a low tone.
“Mr. Pettigrew!” said Bates at the door.
“Mrs. Hume, I hope you will excuse this untimely entrance. I came to have a word with my pupils, assuming I should find them upstairs, and was shown in before I could demur. I had no idea I should intrude upon your evening meal.”
“Sit down and share it with us,” said Julius.