‘Oh, yes,’ said James, in a tone of sudden recollection.
‘You must not forget what we arrange, my boy. Your eyes look tired. What have you been doing?’
‘Nothing,’ said James, in an almost wondering manner.
Eleanor left the subject. Her son’s recent practice of reading had escaped her. She thought of him as a child, to whom a book was a task, a thing he had been long enough for her to form the habit.
‘You had better run upstairs, as you don’t seem to have much appetite. Are you too tired to eat? Why, you are sitting on a book.’
‘Oh, that chair always seems lower than the others.’
‘There are plenty of other chairs. Why choose one so low that you have to put something on it? And surely a cushion would be more comfortable than a book.’
James looked as if this were a new idea.
‘What things boys do! Now kiss me and be off to bed.’
James embraced his mother with zest, and ran from the room with the lightness of one with no interest behind.
‘He is a dear little boy,’ said Eleanor, in the tone of voicing a recent conclusion, which marked her approval of James. ‘Did not anyone — did not either of you girls remember that he was to go to bed?’
‘We all four forgot,’ said Miss Mitford. ‘That seems to show it was not an easy thing to remember.’
Eleanor smiled only to the extent required.
‘He is young to remember everything for himself, with several people — with two sisters older than he is, in the room.’
‘I am older than he is too,’ said Miss Mitford.
‘This is a thing that only concerned himself,’ said Isabel.
‘My dear, the little boy’s health is a matter of equal concern to everyone. I am sure Miss Mitford agrees with me.’
‘Not that it is of equal concern,’ said Miss Mitford.
‘So you will remember another time, my dear,’ said Eleanor, not looking at the governess. ‘Come now and say good night, and then have a happy hour before you go to bed.’
‘What is to make our happiness?’ said Isabel. ‘I wish Mother had told us.’
‘She could have done so,’ said Miss Mitford.
‘I don’t wish she had told us anything more,’ said Venice.
‘There are no books I have not read,’ said Isabel.
‘You must fall back on your old, tried favourites,’ said Miss Mitford. ‘There is no pleasure equal to it.’
‘You don’t think so yourself. You know you would rather have new ones. You have them from the library every week.’
‘Yes. One of my few extravagances.’
‘One of her two extravagances,’ murmured Venice.
‘Mother says she wonders you have time to read them all,’ said Isabel.
‘Does she?’ said Miss Mitford, gently raising her eyes. ‘I never forget the claims of my own life.’
‘You would not like to be a child again.’
‘No, not at all.’
‘I would rather be a woman, even if I had to be —’
‘You will be able to be one, without being a governess,’ said Miss Mitford, in an encouraging tone, beginning to cut the leaves of a volume that required it.
‘Didn’t you want to be a governess?’
‘Why is it said that people judge other people by themselves? It is the last thing they do.’
Isabel was silent and Venice drew near to listen.
‘Of course I am different,’ said Miss Mitford, keeping her lips steady.
‘I meant there were other things you might have been,’ said Isabel.
‘I do not see what they were.’
‘I should think there are worse things.’
‘Yes, so should I, but I believe it is not generally thought.’
‘What would you have liked to be?’ said Venice.
‘What I am, with enough money to live on.’
There was silence.
‘Just my plain, odd self,’ said Miss Mitford.
‘You would not have liked to be married?’
‘No, I never wanted a full, normal life.”
‘I don’t think I do,’ said Isabel. ‘Do you, Venice?’
‘I don’t know; I am not sure.’
‘You would pay the price of full success,’ said Miss Mitford, in a tone of understanding.
‘I don’t see why spinsters have any less success,’ said Isabel.
‘Well, they have no proof that they have been sought,’ said Miss Mitford.
‘Have you ever been sought?’ said Venice, in a tone that recalled Honor’s when she asked Hatton her age.
‘You must not probe the secrets of a woman’s heart,’ said Miss Mitford, putting down the knife and taking up the book.
The door opened and James entered in his dressing-gown, and leaving the door ajar to indicate a transitory errand, began to collect his possessions. He picked up his book, put it under his chin and piled other objects upon it, and using it in this way, went from the room.
‘He will think about it more, if he does not finish it,’ said Miss Mitford. It is better to fulfil the spirit than the letter of your mother’s wish.’
‘James is fortunate in getting the first,’ said Isabel. ‘There is nothing in the book that I did not know.’
‘James will not understand it,’ said Venice.
‘People do understand things when they read them for the first time,’ said Miss Mitford.
‘Yes,’ said Venice, who had been struck by this herself.
‘In a year I shall read what I like,’ said Isabel. ‘When we are sixteen, we can choose from the library.’
‘You will browse on the wholesome pastures of English literature,’ said Miss Mitford. ‘Browse is the wrong word. But it is right to tell us they are wholesome.’
‘Well, they are,’ said Isabel.
‘Yes, that is why it is well to know.’
‘I wonder if Mother knows,’ said Venice, laughing. ‘I hope she will not go up to see if James is all right.’
Miss Mitford raised her eyes.
‘Won’t he think of it himself?’ said Isabel, meaning that there were precautionary measures.
‘You are as afraid of Mother as we are, Mitta,’ said Venice.
‘Not quite. She has no affection for me, and that puts me outside her power. But I am afraid of her, of course. I am a sensitive, shrinking creature at heart.’
‘Would you mind if she — ?’
‘Dismissed me? Yes. This is to be my last post. I shall retire when Honor grows up.’
‘What will you do then?’ said Isabel.
‘I can live with my relations, if I pay them.’
‘But you don’t like being with them. You are always glad to come back.’
‘And yet I think I shall enjoy living with them. What an odd incalculable person I am!’
‘You ought not to have to pay relations.’
‘Well, the English have no family feelings. That is, none of the kind you mean. They have them, and one of them is that relations must cause no expense.’
‘Perhaps they are poor,’ said Venice.
‘Not as poor as you think, considering that I am a governess.’
‘Perhaps they are not near relations.’
‘Yes, they are. It is near relations who have family feelings.’
‘You might as well live with friends,’ said Venice.
‘Well, there is the tie of blood.’
‘What difference does that make, if people forget it?’
‘They know other people remember it. That is another family feeling.’
‘I shall not let Isabel work, when I am married. She will always live with me.’
‘I may be married myself,’ said Isabel. ‘I am not quite sure that I shall not.’
‘You will have enough money to pay your sister, without working,’ said Miss Mitford.
‘I should not want her to pay,’ said Venice.
‘People with families often need money the most,’ said Isabel. ‘You might be dependent on my contribution to the house.’