‘Come again soon. Good-bye. Come again to see him,’ said Nevill, glancing up from the floor.
Faith looked at the three girls, and after a second’s hesitation walked towards them and stooped and gave a kiss to each, smiling gently and fully into their faces. Then with a slightly heightened colour she turned to Nevill.
‘Are you going to give me a kiss?’
Nevill sat up and raised his face, and when Faith had knelt down and embraced him, resumed his game.
As Faith closed the door, Honor uttered her first word since her coming.
‘Not a high type,’ she said.
James gave Honor a look he sometimes gave Isabel, and returned to his book.
‘I was not very proud of any of you,’ said Hatton.
‘Well, no one would be proud of her,’ said Gavin.
‘I was quite ashamed of you, Gavin.’
‘I am glad.’
Faith went down to the drawing-room, and spoke in a cheerful, satisfied-tone.
‘Well, I was glad to get a glimpse of them. I remembered the instructions to make it no more than that.’
‘That was understanding of you, Faith,’ said Luce.
‘We had better go,’ said Hope. ‘I simply don’t know what Luce will say next.’
‘Did you think that they seemed themselves?’ said Eleanor.
‘I would hardly say that of the girls. The boys seemed in better spirits.’
‘I hope they weren’t too unkind to you,’ said Hope.
‘Why should they be, Mother?’
‘There is no reason, dear. That is why I hope they were not.’
‘Nevill was very friendly, and so was James. The girls were not equal to so much; things go deeper with them. Gavin is a rougher diamond altogether. I have promised Nevill to pay another visit soon.’
‘Were they all together?’ said Eleanor.
‘Yes, in the nursery with Hatton.’
‘I suppose they cannot bear Miss Mitford’s touch in sorrow,’ said Hope.
‘I wish I had gone in and said a word to Miss Mitford,’ said Faith.
‘Why should you do that?’ said Hope.
‘Well, it is always nice to see a friend, Mother,’ said Faith, her tone somehow making a point of the equality and friendship.
Sir Jesse and Paul came from the fire, continuing to talk. Paul went at once from the house, giving his family no chance to linger. Ridley bent over Eleanor’s hand, and followed his father with an expression of controlled feeling.
‘I wish we had only to sustain grief,’ said Graham, when the family were alone.
‘So do I, Graham,’ said Luce. ‘But we have to support many burdens. I cannot say I don’t see them as such, that I would not rather sorrow in peace. But there is no choice before us.’
‘And not much else,’ said her brother.
‘No, Graham, not much else.’
‘The way you dealt with Faith gave me a gleam of comfort, Luce,’ said Daniel.
‘I could hardly put my mind on her. I see what people mean by the selfishness of sorrow.’
‘I take exception to the phrase. It suggests some personal advantage.’
‘If it means that people who are sorrowing, should give their attention to those who are not, it is a wicked thing to say,’ said Graham.
‘And why shouldn’t we be absorbed in our own trouble?’ said Luce.
‘If we were not, we should be called shallow,’ said Daniel.
‘People are indeed wicked,’ said Graham.
‘Mother,’ said Luce, as Eleanor passed them, ‘had you not better sit down and rest?’
‘I am not tired, my dear.’
‘Honest, as usual, Mother. But it may be the false energy of exhaustion.’
‘I wish exhaustion had that effect on me,’ said Graham.
‘I don’t even feel it,’ said Regan, in a tone that did not bear out her words.
Luce sat down at her grandmother’s side, as though without the power to aid her further.
‘We have all to move forward,’ said Sir Jesse. ‘Some of us can only go slowly, but our direction is the same. And my son left sons behind him.’
‘You talk as if women did not exist, Grandpa,’ said Luce.
‘It is a pity men do not manage to do so,’ said Regan.
‘They are more exposed to risk than women, Grandma. It is a thing that has its brighter side.’
‘For them perhaps.’
‘Yes, only for them, Grandma.’
‘I belong to the sex that encounters perils,’ said Graham. ‘That does not seem very suitable somehow.’
‘It does not, Graham dear,’ said Luce.
‘We must manage to keep him from them,’ said Regan, in a tone that did not grudge her grandson the life her son had lost.
‘He does not strike me as a person who will incur them,’ said Sir Jesse.
‘It is a pity that Grandpa has ever had to meet us,’ said Graham. ‘The mere idea of us seems to be satisfying to him.’
‘Ridley has done a great deal for us today,’ said Eleanor. ‘I dare not imagine what things would have been without him.’
‘We should not have known what had happened,’ said Graham. ‘I shall always see him as the bearer of ill tidings.’
‘I wonder if we shall,’ said Luce.
‘I am afraid I am very restless,’ said Eleanor, who was moving about the room. ‘I suppose I am in an unnatural state. I hope I shall be able to do my duty by you all. I don’t seem to be able to reach my own sorrow. I am simply oppressed by a fear of the future.’
‘We all tremble a little before that, Mother,’ said Luce.
‘It was good of Hope to come at once,’ said Regan.
‘Grandma, you don’t often say a word in favour of anyone outside,’ said Luce.
‘She is a deal better than most people.’
‘I like her very much, Grandma, but is she better? Is that quite her word?’
‘It does as well as any other.’
‘Grandma, I should never have suspected you of making a woman friend.’
‘I have to do what I can with the people left. And it seemed to me that I had one.’
A silence fell on the family.
‘Mother,’ said Luce, ‘shall we give ourselves a little help on this first day? Shall we have Nevill brought down to say good night?’
‘Ought we to make a sacrifice of him?’ said Graham.
‘We shall not do that, Graham. We will not take him beyond his scope.’
Hatton obeyed the summons and led Nevill into the room. She had an air of disapproval and gave him no injunctions. He seemed preoccupied and stood waiting for what was required of him, before returning to his own sphere.
‘So you have come to say good night,’ said Eleanor.
‘Good night, Mother,’ said Nevill, going up to her to get the first step over.
‘He has come to give us a glimpse of him,’ said Regan.
‘Good night, Grandma,’ said Nevill, doing the same to her, and then sending his eyes round the room and speaking more quickly. ‘Good night, Luce; good night, Grandpa; good night, Graham; good night, Father; good night, Daniel.’
He turned and looked up at Hatton in inquiry as to the moment of withdrawal.
‘Father is not here, my little one,’ said Eleanor.
‘Yes, he is here,’ said Nevill, in an absent tone. ‘Father has come back today.’
‘No, he cannot come back to us, my little boy.’
‘Good night — Grandpa,’ amended Nevill, looking about for a substitute for Fulbert.
‘How strange that he should say that, on this day of all days!’ said Luce.
‘He has heard his father’s name a great deal,’ said Regan, in simple explanation.
‘That is all of his father he has left,’ said Eleanor, sighing.
‘When people accept the death of someone, are they always staggered by the general results of it?’ said Graham.
‘Well, what have you been doing upstairs?’ said Eleanor to Nevill.