“Neither could I. Things are never as bad as we expect. This one is not.”
“You mean the legacy means more to you, than the woman who was your virtual mother?”
“The legacy is all I can have. And all I can have of her, And it binds me closer to her. You can see it does.”
“But you would let it ensure the thing she meant it to prevent?”
“It must be one of life’s inconsistencies. Or perhaps it was one of hers. She would have been above mere consistency. I remember that she was.”
“Hugo, would it not be better to appear to be serious today?”
“I am really serious. I don’t dare to seem to be. I am so afraid of you.”
“I would rather have a plain word than all this evasive irony, if that is what it is.”
“I hope it is that. I meant it to be. A plain word is a dreadful thing.”
“You will take the legacy, and do what it in effect forbids?”
“I said it was dreadful,” said Hugo.
“Then there is no more to be said.”
“That is a relief, Ninian.”
“Your mother must have known it might work out like this, Ninian,” said Teresa.
“She added the message to ensure that it did not.”
“Hugo was to have the money in any case,” said Egbert.
“Money! She felt there were other things. It made her think too well of other people.”
“She did not do that,” said Teresa with a smile.
“In this case we must feel she did.”
“So there was someone who thought better of me than I deserved,” said Hugo. “It is a thing I did not expect to say.”
“It is not the one I would choose at this moment,” said Ninian.
“Well, that is fortunate, as you could not say it. She thought the same of you as you deserved.”
“My dear mother! There was nothing false between us. As there now is between you and her.”
“And between you and me, Ninian. And if you are not careful, there will cease to be.”
Ninian turned to his daughter and spoke as if in sudden recollection.
“I have been wondering whether to put a memorial tablet to your grandmother in the church. Do you feel she would wish it?”
“She did not think of it. I hardly see what it would do for her.”
“It would not do anything for you? You do not feel her life should be commemorated? You would not have felt it?”
“We should put up so many memorials, if we considered our personal feelings. People are usually commemorated for some public service.”
“And the years of personal service do not count?”
“Only to us. It was to us that it was given.”
“It is we who should place the memorial.”
“Well, so it is, Father. And it could do no harm.”
“That is hardly a ground for the time and trouble and cost.”
“Well, that is what I thought.”
“Would you always have thought it? Would you always have been dry and logical and without larger impulse? Is it the new interest in legacies and kindred things? Has there come to be nothing else?”
“Those are in our minds at the moment. You are glad of your own share.”
“Not for my own sake. But let her be glad of them for hers, if they are her concern now,” said Ninian, as he turned away. “Let her leave the deeper things. Perhaps they have been too deep. We may not have known her.”
“She can hear no more,” said Teresa. “No one else would have heard so much. It does harm and will leave a memory.”
“If you are equal to it, Egbert,” said Ninian, turning to his son, “we might go and review the new position. I would not suggest it today, but this talk has taken our minds from their natural course, and made it hardly fitting to return to it.”
“We have had enough of it all,” said his wife. “We will go out of doors and forget it. Your feelings need a rest, and not only yours.”
Ninian laid his hand on Egbert’s shoulder, paused for the women to precede him, glanced at his daughter as she waited for Hugo, and went from the house.
“Lavinia, what can be done? Shall we always be in his power? Will he always have it all?”
“Yes, always most of it. We could never cast him off.”
“I will say the truth. I think I could. He does all he can to help us. We will live at a distance from him.”
“No, I must be near him. I can’t help my feeling. I have tried to lose it and I have lost a part. But something remains and holds me to him. To give it up would tear up the roots of my life.”
“I have never believed in God. I believe in him now. We have known he is a father. And I see that he is yours. There are the anger, jealousy, vaingloriousness, vengefulness, love, compassion, infinite power. The matter is in no doubt.”
“If simplicity is our object, here is our scene,” said Ninian in a cold tone, as they approached the garden assigned to the children. “Let us see what is taking place.”
Leah was holding a tombstone in position, while Hengist piled up some earth to keep it secure. Agnes lay on the grass at hand, writing with a preoccupied expression.
“What are you doing?” said Ninian. “Where did you get the stone?”
“From the back of the churchyard,” said his son. “We are putting up a monument to Grandma. It is quite proper, as the tombstone is a real one. The words are worn away, and Agnes is writing some more.”
“It will be a sacred spot. People have more honour when they are dead,” said Leah, who perhaps gave her own support to the theory.
“It will be sacred to me,” said Ninian, turning to retrace his steps to the house. — “Now how our minds work on similar lines, when they are bound by affection and sympathy! The idea of my mother’s passing without visible remembrance was unnatural to them, as it was to me. They are at a stage when the first true instincts have not been blunted.”
“And are you still at the stage?” said Hugo.
“Yes, as regards my mother. I hope I shall always be. I wonder you do not feel more of a son to her.”
“I do feel one. She has given me reason.”
“I was not thinking of the legacy.”
“Neither was Hugo,” said Lavinia.
“Well I was. I do like to dwell on it. It improves me so much. Something of bitterness seems to melt away.”
“It is a strange thing,” said Ninian, almost with a smile. “But we do not accept change. It sometimes goes too deep. I almost found myself saying I must go to my mother.”
“Suppose you had quite said it?” said Hugo. “What should we have done?”
“You do not know?” said Ninian. “Lavinia would once have known.”
“It is true that I do not know now, Father.”
“I know,” said Teresa. “We should have waited for you to realise your mistake. And that would have been in a moment.”
“I could never have done any more,” said Lavinia.
“I should have been at a loss,” said Hugo. “But I don’t see how anyone could have known.”
“It would have been clear to me,” said Ninian.
“You are trying to be subtle. And I almost think you are succeeding.”
“You do not emulate me? You are open and simple in your outlook on your life.”
“Not more than the rest of us,” said Lavinia.
“Come, you have not found that,” said Ninian. “Have you forgotten your grandmother?”
“No, I remember her, and everything about her. It is you who are beginning to forget.”
“Why do you want to be estranged from me, my child? In order to marry against my will without compunction?”
“We shall both do that,” said Hugo. “And quite without it. And you are taking your own way to the estrangement.”
“And a sure one,” said Teresa.
“There is no way,” said Ninian.
“I hardly think there is,” said Lavinia, almost wearily. “If there was, it would have been found by now.”