‘Have you got a headache?’ said Gavin, to his sister.
‘No.’
Nevill looked round the table over his hands.
‘Poor Honor!’ he said, in a rapid tone. ‘Poor Isabel! Poor Grandma!’ He returned to his plate and looked up to add an afterthought. ‘Poor Luce!’
‘Nevill admits only feminine feeling,’ said Daniel.
‘He has met more of it,’ said Graham. ‘And there may be more.’
‘Poor Graham! Poor Daniel!’ said Nevill, in an obliging tone.
‘Poor Mother!’ said Eleanor, gently.
‘Poor Mother!’ agreed her son. ‘But Father come back after a long time, and Mr Ridley stay till then.’
‘He must not eat too much,’ said Venice, in a lifeless tone.
‘Not much today,’ said Nevill, in grave tribute to the occasion.
Hatton opened the door and stood with her eyes on her charges. Nevill looked at her and back at the table, supplied his mouth with a befitting moderation, and went to her side; Honor slowly followed; James glanced from Hatton to his mother; Gavin continued to eat.
‘Go with Hatton, my six poor children,’ said Eleanor. ‘She can do more for you than your mother. Go, James dear, if you want to.’
James could only hesitate at this imputation, which he realized was to be a recurring one.
‘Have you had your dessert?’ said his mother, misinterpreting the pause.
‘Oh, no,’ said James, with a lightness that disposed of the idea.
‘Did you not want any?’
‘No.’
‘Would you like some now?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘You weren’t thinking about it today?’
‘No,’ said James, as if his thoughts were still absent from it.
‘Then go, my little son. You will be safe with Hatton.’
Ridley waited until the door closed, and bent towards Eleanor.
‘There is something particular in our feeling for these old attendants, who have spent their lives in our service. They, if any, have earned our affection.’
‘My children have much more feeling for Hatton than they have for me.’
‘Mrs Sullivan!’ said Ridley, a smile overspreading his face at this extension of the truth.
‘Hatton is not so much older than Ridley,’ said Daniel.
‘He is not an attendant,’ said his brother. ‘Attendants may age earlier. There are reasons why they should.’
‘I was older than most of these children when my feelings transferred, or rather extended themselves to my parents,’ said Luce.
‘And we must not say that was long ago,’ said Ridley.
Regan left the room, as if she could sustain her feeling only by herself. Ridley hastened to the door and stood, as she passed through it, with an air of putting the whole of himself into his concern.
‘There seems a hopelessness about the grief of the old,’ he said, as he returned to Eleanor. ‘In proportion as it lacks the strength of our prime, it is without the power of reaction and recovery.’
‘You none of you think you do anything like the old,’ said Sir Jesse. ‘You feel things in the same way as they do, just as you feel them in the same way as the young. We suffer according to ourselves.’
Ridley gave an uncertain glance towards the end of the table, where he had believed Sir Jesse to be sitting, lost in his grief.
‘All real sorrow must last to the end,’ said Eleanor.
‘Mrs Sullivan, you do indeed think so now,’ said Ridley, in earnest understanding.
A message was brought and delivered to Ridley.
‘Mrs Sullivan,’ he said, with a rueful smile, ‘my family seek admittance, but are prepared to be denied.’ His tone suggested that he also was ready for this climax.
‘Let them come in, Mother,’ said Luce. ‘The boys would be better for a change. And we need not repel kindness.’
‘If anyone will benefit by it, my dear, let them all join us.’
‘It is a case of pure friendship,’ said Daniel, ‘for it is clear that the advantage will not extend to the guests.’
‘Why are we the ones not satisfied with the situation?’ said Graham. ‘Would the others ask nothing better?’
Hope went in silence to her usual place; Paul walked to Sir Jesse and sat down by his side; Faith stood apart, as if she would put forward no personal claim, even for a seat.
‘I hope it does not look as if Paul were trying to take Fulbert’s place,’ murmured Hope.
‘There would be no possibility of his doing that, Mother.’
‘No, dear, that is what I meant.’
‘Mrs Cranmer is ill at ease because of our trouble,’ said Luce, for her mother’s ears. ‘It must be accounted to her for friendship.’
‘I hope no one is looking at me,’ said Hope. ‘I am so ashamed of not being dead. It is the valuable lives that are cut off, but one does not like to acquiesce in it. How does one seem as if one really wished one had died instead?’
‘How are all the children?’ said Faith.
No one answered her, as she addressed no one in particular.
‘I knew you would come, Mrs Cranmer,’ said Luce. ‘I don’t know how, but I did.’
‘I think Luce had grounds for expecting it,’ said Daniel.
‘And you did not give orders that we were not to be admitted,’ said Hope. ‘I know now that I have never appreciated anything before.’
‘No, Mrs Cranmer, we omitted to do that,’ said Luce. ‘How are all the children?’ said Faith.
‘It is something to feel we have friends in the stretch of darkness before us,’ said Graham.
‘I know that nothing equals the despair of youth,’ said Hope. ‘I am almost as much ashamed of being middle-aged as of being alive, and no doubt you see less difference than I do.’
‘Faith, are you not going to sit down?’ said Daniel, who with his brother was standing by his seat.
‘No, I don’t mind standing,’ said Faith.
‘But I do,’ muttered Graham.
‘Faith dear, sit down and let the boys do the same,’ said Luce. ‘The main trial is enough, without little extra ones.’
Faith gave a slight start and walked to a seat, and at once looked round, as if her mind had not left the question on her lips.
‘How are all the children?’
‘My dear, would you ask again?’ said Hope. Terhaps they are all so stunned by grief, that it is not referred to.’
‘They are in different states, Mrs Cranmer,’ said Luce. ‘It is asking about them together that precludes an answer. James and Gavin and Nevill are not giving anxiety; Honor and Isabel are; Venice is in a state between. That is all I can tell you. It is all I know.’
‘Poor little things!’ said Faith.
‘I can see Ridley being a support to your mother, and Paul to your grandfather,’ said Hope. ‘I don’t think I need be ashamed that they have not died.’
‘Mrs Cranmer,’ said Luce, as if speaking on a sudden impulse, ‘Would you go and do the same for Grandma? She is alone in the library, and I don’t feel I can undertake it.’ She gave a little smile. ‘My strength is giving out.’
‘I am sure that is the bravest smile I have ever seen,’ said Hope, hurrying to the door. ‘It is shocking of me to have any strength left, and I will go and expend every ounce of it. The sooner it is used up, the better.’
‘Luce seems to be different,’ said Graham, looking at his sister. ‘We ought none of us to be the same again. I hope I shall not be found to be the only one unchanged.’
‘I hope you will be among them, Graham dear,’ said Luce.
Hope crossed the hall and found Regan sitting by the library fire.
‘Don’t take any notice of me,’ she said. ‘You would be hardly conscious that I have entered. I know that all real experience has passed me by. But I have heard that a mother’s feelings are the deepest, and so I have come to you.’