He sat down at the table and smiled at his children, and Lavinia took the place at his side and put her hand in his, another accepted custom.
He was followed by his adopted brother, a tall, slender man a little younger than himself, with a narrow, uneven face, pale hair and hands and eyes, and an ease of manner and movement that was almost grace. Hugo Middleton, as he was called, had been adopted by Ninian’s father in infancy, on the ground that he was the orphan son of a friend, and had grown up under his name and eventually taken it. Rumour and question had long since been rife and died away. Selina had known no more than this, and had accepted what could not be helped. A largeness in her nature had prevented her from visiting her own doubts on the boy, and their relation had grown almost to that of mother and son. He had been left a competence by her husband, and spent his life in the house. Her second or, as it seemed, third son, and the nearest to her heart, lived abroad and was thought of only by herself.
“Is the table the place for toys, Hengist?” she said in her deepest tones. “What is it you have to hide?”
Her grandson showed a pistol, and in proof of his openness fired it towards her.
She started, suffered the reaction, rose and snatched the pistol and flung it into the waste paper basket.
“Why did you do that, Hengist?” said Ninian.
“Grandma doesn’t like it to be hidden.”
“Take it out of the basket,” said Leah. “It is hidden there.”
“You will not, while I am over you,” said Selina.
“That will be until you die,” said Leah. “So the basket can’t be cleared until then.”
“Do you think that is funny, Leah?”
“I thought it was,” said Hengist, smiling.
“I asked Leah what she thought.”
“I didn’t think it was as funny as it seems to be,” said Leah, looking round.
“The pistol will be kept in the schoolroom,” said Ninian. “It is here for the last time.”
“May we talk now, Grandma?” said Agnes.
“You can ask your father. He is here now to direct you.”
“You know what your grandmother wished,” said Ninian.
“It is because Agnes knew, that she asked,” said Hengist.
“Are you leaving that on your plate, Leah?” said Selina.
“Yes. Only an animal could eat it.”
“And she couldn’t leave it anywhere else,” said Hengist.
“So that is how you see yourselves. As a pair of wits.”
“Only other people can see us. And Leah doesn’t mind having human food.”
“She will have what I give her,” said Selina, choosing what would cause no trouble, and seeming not to consider it.
“Grandma’s heart is where it ought to be,” said Agnes, in an audible undertone.
“You curry favour,” said Hengist. “And that means you don’t really have it.”
“You may reach the same end by a different path,” said Ninian.
“I like his path better,” said Leah.
“They are all Grandma’s little boys and girls,” said Selina, with a sudden benevolence that caused no surprise.
“Lavinia and Egbert are not little,” said Leah.
“Perhaps they are to Grandma,” said Agnes.
“Father thinks Lavinia is equal to himself,” said Hengist.
“Age makes no difference in some cases,” said his sister.
“It should have in ours,” said Ninian. “I know it has made too little. I often feel I am to blame.”
“I have never felt it, Father. And no one else is concerned.”
“You must finish your luncheon,” said Selina. “Miss Starkie will be coming back.”
“So she will,” said Egbert. “I used to see it as the basis of life. I regret the days when I was under her.”
“I wonder what began the being under people,” said Leah.
“Examine into your own heart, and you will know,” said her father.
“I would rather go to school than learn at home,” said Agnes.
“Well, nothing more will be spent on you,” said Selina. “You cost enough.”
“Only her food and clothes and her share of Miss Starkie,” said Hengist.
“Children do not think about such things.”
“They think about everything.”
“Well, they never talk about them.”
“You know they do,” said Leah. “You hear them.”
“Hengist and Leah,” said Selina, in a deep, sudden tone, “you will accept what I say. You will not differ from me or voice thoughts of your own. When I have spoken, I have spoken. And you must know it.”
“I envy you,” said Hugo. “When I have spoken, I hardly like to know it myself. It always seems so unnecessary.”
“I fear I am late, Mrs. Middleton,” said Miss Starkie, who had hesitated on the threshold during Selina’s speech. “I should say that I know I am. My landlady was behind the time. But I see that you are still at the table.”
Miss Starkie returned to her lodgings for her meals, thereby escaping Selina’s eye, and allowing the latter some household economies unsuitable for her own. Ninian’s income was derived from the estate, and had lessened in the manner of its kind. It seemed to return to its source, taking his energy with it; and his mother kept a hand on the household expense, not suspecting how little it counted in the main stream.
“Well, what is the subject?” said Miss Starkie, ignoring the conclusion of it.
“There have been more than one,” said Hengist.
“Well, may I thrust myself in on the last?” said Miss Starkie, speaking as if her words were humorous.
They might have been so in this case, as Hengist and Leah began to laugh.
“What is the jest?” said Miss Starkie, turning her bright, brown eyes from one to another. She was a short, brisk woman of forty-five, with a full, ruddy face, unrelated features, clothes that were never remembered, though they varied with every occasion, and a general aspect almost improbably true to type.
“There is none,” said Selina, her voice implying that this was to be the case.
“Were you planning to play some trick on me?” said Miss Starkie, modifying Selina’s expression with this light on her experience.
“No, we weren’t talking about you,” said Leah.
“Then in what way am I involved, that I cannot know the subject?”
“You might not have been so much involved,” said Hengist, smiling.
“Miss Starkie is not concerned with your chatter,” said Selina. “You need not trouble her with it.”
“Oh, I am not curious, Mrs. Middleton,” said Miss Starkie, her voice betraying that she had no need to be. “Children’s talk means less than nothing, as you say.”
“She didn’t say it,” said Leah. “And it couldn’t mean less than that.”
“She feels she had better not be curious,” said Hengist.
“And why should she feel that?” said Selina. “Tell us the reason.”
“She might feel her living was at stake,” said Hengist, as if a question should stand its answer.
“Well, that might be a tiresome threat,” said Miss Starkie.
“I don’t think she is really so unconcerned,” whispered Leah.
“Why should she be anything else?” said Selina.
“Well, if Agnes went to school, a governess might cost too much.”
“As necessities have a way of doing,” said Miss Starkie, lightly.
“And you might teach the others yourself, to save expense.”
“Well, there is an idea,” said Miss Starkie. “It would be a novel arrangement. I have been successful in my efforts. You have your own ideas and express them.”
“It is not my idea,” said Leah. “In old books a mother or grandmother do sometimes teach the girls.”
“Does teach,” said Miss Starkie, smiling at Selina. “So you have reached the stage of reading books and remembering them. That is encouraging for me.”