“But not for what leaves it.”
“Yes, it was written under my eyes and must be worded as I approve. In such a way that the decision is not final.”
To the surprise of them all Hermia gave her the letter. They saw it did not reach the foot of the page. Eliza threw her eyes over it.
“Well, so there it is. You have cut away your future. You have chosen subjection and dependence, as if you were fitted for them. And you are not fitted for them, Hermia. You do not know yourself. You have not the qualities needed for such a life. You will live unhappily and uselessly, a trial to yourself and others, until it ends.”
“It may be so; perhaps it must be. But it makes no difference. And the matter is only to do with myself. It bears on no one else’s future.”
“That is true of few things, and not of this,” said Eliza, going to the door. “Well, I have said and done all I can. I will weary myself no more.”
“Is the letter to go by post?” said Angus, to cover the pause. “Or shall I take it to the house?”
“By post,” said Hermia. “It will attract less notice. The episode is at an end. I wish it had not happened. It gives me nothing, and shows my future as it is. It shows it even to me. It is not just what Mater said.”
“But there tends to be something in her words that remains,” said Madeline. “It is a thing we notice about them.”
“It is,” said Angus. “She notices it herself. I wonder she dares to speak.”
“She does dare,” said Hermia. “I am the last to dispute it.”
“There is danger in courage. Cowardice is a power for good. We hardly know what it prevents.”
“We know what it should have prevented. That is enough.”
“If we are thinking of Mater,” said Madeline. “Does her courage show a certain quality? She is not ashamed of thoughts and feelings that other people would disguise.”
“But why is she not ashamed of them?” said Hermia. “Other people would see the reasons.”
“They may get into the way of hiding themselves. And we see she hardly ever does.”
“We do. We can’t shut our eyes to it. So we are to congratulate her on it. We can hardly congratulate ourselves.”
“No, I don’t feel you see her quite justly, Hermia.”
“Well, how does she show herself to me? And in what light does she see me?”
“Her view of you may partly result from yours of her.”
“No, it is the other way round. Her view of me dates from before she saw me. She did not want step-children, and I was the elder and the more to Father. He was to care only for her and her children. And it has almost come to pass. He is not the father to us he should have been.”
“He has had his personal fulfilment. We should bear that in mind.”
“Our minds are hardly the place for it. We have our own feelings to suffer.”
“Yes, it is true,” said her father’s voice, “and true of us all. My feelings have been what Madeline says. Yours are what we know. And Mater’s are what I fear they must be. She advised you for the best as she saw it. Her life has been what it has. And we leave it there. But there is a word for me to say, my dear. Let things be as easy as they may. Old age has come late to me, but it must be at hand. Let me leave peace behind me as the outcome of my days. I once thought to depend on you for more. I thought too far ahead. Life must have its way with us. I see the mistake was mine.”
“I think you can depend on me, Father,” said Madeline. “I know what you mean and I will do my best. And Hermia will not set herself against me. It is a thing she has never done.”
“My trustworthy daughters!” said Sir Robert, putting his arms about them, and remaining as he was with his eyes on the door as Eliza appeared within it. “The future is safe in your hands. I look forward with a quiet mind.”
“Why, what is it?” said Eliza with her eyes on them. “What is it all supposed to be? Are you acting some sort of scene?”
“Yes, we are,” said her husband, drawing her towards him, and including her in the embrace. “A scene that foreshadows the future, and eases my way towards it.”
“Well, we are living in the present now. That will be enough for us. And a scene hardly represents anything when it is on this meagre scale. It leaves out too many of us. It tends to provoke a smile.” Eliza proved the tendency and turned aside. “We will go to the library, Robert. You must learn not to indulge in scenes. I shall be afraid to leave you. You talk of trustworthy people. I wish I could do the same.”
She left the room with her husband. The elder daughters also left, and her own two children were alone.
“Suppose the scene had not left us out?” said Roberta. “What would you have done?”
“Comforted myself with awkwardness. I almost did so while I watched it. And it seemed to last so long.”
“Yes, every minute seemed an hour. So that is a thing that can really happen. And it must have seemed more to Mater. She could not have managed her emotions in the time. Did you see her face?”
“I did not dare to look at it. My own must have been enough. Father is at an age he should not be. That is the trouble underneath our lives. He has been wise to draw a veil over it. I hope he will not yield to the habit of lifting it. It would not add to his days.”
“If only something could add to them! We only know of one method. That of making every minute seem an hour. And that is hardly a good one.”
“Well, my dear ones,” said Eliza, on the threshold. “So you are sunk in earnest talk. You must try to forget that scene. There was no reason at all to have it. Your sisters should have known better, two mature women as they are. It was absurd for them to be grouped with your father as if they were the foremost figures in his life. As if he saw them in that way! We will put it out of our thoughts. And now this offer of Hermia’s and her refusal of it. Can anything be done? Have you any influence with her? I have not sent her answer to the post. The decision is still in abeyance. I cannot have it made certain. It would be a wrong thing to do.”
“It would not. It would be a right thing. It is the only thing,” said Angus. “The answer must go to the post as Hermia thinks it has gone. Give it to me and she need not know of its setback. You might be a figure in history, corrupted by power. It is what you are, except that you are not in history.”
“It is a pity I am not. It is where I ought to be. I should do a great deal of good. I daresay you will come to realise it. Whose are the voices in the hall? Not your father’s and Hermia’s and Madeline’s?”
But these were what they were, and Angus’s voice joined them. And after a minute Eliza’s did the same.
“What are you all doing here? What is all the talk about?”
“We are doing nothing. We happened to meet,” said Hermia. “The talk is about the letter in Angus’s hand. The letter that should be in the post.”
“Well, it will soon be there. And it is not where it should be. It should not be anywhere, as you know. I tried to give the matter a chance, and it is taken from my hands. It will be regretted but I can’t help it. I have done my best.”
“Her best and her worst,” said Sir Robert, putting his hand on her shoulder. “It was never in her hands, except in the sense it should not have been. The matter has ended and has never had any meaning. She tried to give it what was not there. Even she could not manage it.”
He guided his wife across the hall, and the door of the library closed.
“So there it is,” said Hermia. “She can do no wrong. In her own eyes, or in his, or even in Madeline’s. The normal rules don’t apply to her. She is somehow outside them, It is a wonder she is not worse than she is.”
“Well, that is what I think sometimes,” said Madeline. “Though there could be a kinder way of putting it. We might not do as well in her place.”