“Everything adds to understanding,” said Alice. “That is why people seem better when you don’t really know them, and why new friendships are often best.”
“Now that is an attempt to be cynical,” said Mr. Pettigrew.
“And a successful one,” said Francis.
“Will Miss Greatheart and Miss Burke dress like brides for their weddings?” said Adrian.
“Really, Adrian, what an odd point to engage your interest! I am not in a position to say. But it is likely that a quiet travelling dress will in both cases be held to fit the occasion.”
“Did Mrs. Pettigrew wear that kind of dress?”
“I think that would have been the description of it. Her tastes have always been on the quiet side. And possibly the usefulness of the dress was a point to be considered.”
“Perhaps there will be a double wedding.”
“There is no reason to expect it. There is no parallel between the marriages. Each will probably take place on its own merits.”
“I don’t think either has any merits,” said Alice.
“Well, that is an opinion you will be wise to keep to yourself.”
“Uncle has had a varied life,” said Adrian.
“Oh, a second marriage is common enough,” said Francis.
“But in a way it is the third. Will he have any more children? It seems that three are enough.”
“It is late to give Rosebery companions,” said Francis in a sharp tone.
There was a pause.
“We have wasted our time this morning,” said Mr. Pettigrew, rising with his eyes rather brighter than usual. “But we may see the occasion as a reason, and we can make up for it tomorrow. I shall be here at the usual time. Goodbye to you for today.”
“Pettigrew likes to know everything,” said Adrian.
“And you pandered to the taste!” said Francis. “You can feel you have done all you can for him.”
“Oh, I forgot! I forgot. But I did not really say it. Not that Uncle was our father and not Rosebery’s.”
“Have I left a book behind?” said Mr. Pettigrew, re-entering and coming to the table. “No, I am mistaken; I have it in my hand. Goodbye to you again.”
“Well, Pettigrew is to be envied,” said Francis. “And so is Mrs. Pettigrew. And with both of them and Bates knowing, so is everyone else.”
“I daresay everyone has always known,” said Alice, “though Uncle has not thought so. He would be the last to think it. No one could speak of it to him.”
“Ought we to tell Uncle that I have told Pettigrew?” said Adrian. “He might be able to do something.”
“He can undo nothing,” said Francis. “But I daresay he should know. He will soon be coming upstairs.”
Adrian rushed out of the room and cast himself upon Julius.
“I have told Pettigrew! I did it by accident. I forgot he did not know.”
“Well, what could I expect? The fault is the person’s who told you. And if he profited by the mischance, I daresay he had guessed. And we are safe from him; he cannot speak of it to us.”
“That is what we said,” said Alice.
“Did you?” said Julius. “Children are always more influenced by an odd education than an ordinary one.”
“And it is not only our education that is not ordinary,” said Adrian.
Chapter XI
“Now, Plautus, don’t pretend you do not see me. I know you better than that. You are the one person in the world who knows me as I am.”
Hester spoke for her voice to reach the drawing-room, and lifting Plautus, entered with her face buried in his fur.
“I have come to say a word before I vanish. I must ask what will happen to my Plautus when his home is gone. Forth I went and provided people with chances and gave him none; and he the most deserving of them!”
“You told us what you thought of them,” said Emma.
“Well, you thought better of them. Anyhow you did not let them escape you. How this is like old times and unlike them!”
Emma did not speak.
“Oh, the likeness will emerge. The storm and stress are past. I have faced the music, as the phrase goes. I have gone through fire and water and earned my release. Nothing that happens can be laid to my door. We can have an hour of peace before we part. It is Plautus who troubles me. Can you take him to the Humes’ house?”
“No, I cannot. I am not going there myself.”
“What do you mean?” said Hester.
“Cats do not like change. I ought to have remembered. They attach themselves to houses, and I forgot that too.”
“Then will Julius Hume come to live here with you?”
“No, he will stay at home with the portraits of Miranda.”
“What do you actually mean?” said Hester.
“I have never had a wish to marry. I succumbed to the flattery of being sought. And I did not like to rebuff him, in case it should alter me in his eyes. That was when I was to be the second person in his life. When I was to be the third, or I suppose the sixth, as the children are his, it was too poor a place. You served your purpose when you betrayed him. It is not true that wickedness never prospers. Any little wickedness of mine has always prospered. And it is the same with small things and great.”
There was a silence.
“It was a hard moment, but a necessary one. You had to know the truth. Julius might or might not have told you. We shall never be sure.”
“He does tend to put it off. Miranda had so little time to know. I have a great feeling for Miranda. I could never grudge her anything. When I knew she would grudge me everything, I sympathised with her. I liked her to have the first place in Julius’s life. I am disturbed now that perhaps she did not have it. But the sixth place is very low.”
There was a pause.
“How right I have been!” said Hester.
“And other things too. But I am not very troubled by them. They are always in us; it depends if anything brings them out; and something brought them out in you. Will you go out into the world again, now you see the danger of it?”
“I must, unless I am to be dependent on you.”
“That would need greatness of spirit. And as I should have the credit, the greatness would be real. But when we have both littleness and greatness in us, ought we to show only the one?”
“Perhaps it would be right to stay. It may be the better and larger thing. Harm did come of the other.”
“How you are improving already! Of course the influence of the world is known to be bad. And it is worse than I thought.”
“And Plautus’s future is secure with yours and mine.”
“The pity is that Miss Burke’s future is secure too, and that it is Rosebery who has made it so.”
“What are you saying about me?” said Miss Burke.
“Did she hear what we said?” said Hester.
“No, she sounds preoccupied; and when people are that, it is always with their own affairs. I think that is really what the word means. I was wishing, dear, that I had provided for your future.”
“I have to take provision where it is offered.”
“I am so ashamed that I did not offer it. And I am more ashamed of the reason. We blush for our follies more than our sins. I did not think of your outliving me, when I knew how much younger you were.”
“Well, people do not think of that. Survival is no part of my duty.”
“But of course you will have a life after I am gone, a future that I shall not see. And it must be provided for. What a pity that Rosebery has done it!”
“You cannot suggest doing it yourself?” said Hester.
“Well, it might seem that I was doing it for my own sake. Do you think it could go without saying? I feel so many more things would happen, if they could do that.”