Sister of the Housemaster (15 page)

“
But you have never had to do without anything in your life,
”
insisted Sylvia.
“
Until the sad business of your father, of course.
”
(The sad business of Paula
’
s father was that he had lost practically all
his
money in a disastrously unwise investment.)
“
And you
’
ll have next to nothing with this Peter.
”

“
I shall have Peter,
”
said Paula proudly.

“
Oh, I know he
’
s marvellous,
”
agreed Pamela quickly.
“
He has everything
—
looks, talent, charm
—
everything but money and position,
”

“
If he has so much talent and charm,
”
said Paula,
“
perhaps it won
’
t be long before the money and position come along. In any case, he has a. job and we have a flat, and I think we are lucky; and anybody would really t
hi
nk you were trying to put me off,
”

Ingrid looked at her quickly. Paula was being very cheerful and very spry, but Ingrid thought that this talk was hurtful to her all the same. She was not surprised that Paula decided not to stay long, and soon made her excuses and left the tea-party. Nor was she surprised that Pamela and

Sylvia immediately bega
n
to discuss their departed guest
“
What madness
,”
said Sylvia.

“
Disastrous,
”
agreed Pamela.

“
A young man with no background. Just because he is so good-looking
...
And Paula has always been so extravagant. Ah well, she will learn
.
”

“
That love and poverty don
’
t go very well together
,”
said Pamela.

“
Infatuation, I should call it,
”
said Sylvia.
“
How long, I wonder, will it last?
”

“
I wonder,
”
echoed Pamela.

Ingrid stood up to go to the kitchen for more hot water. Her anger got the better of her discretion.

“
Not many people
’
s marriages would last,
”
s
he said,
“
if the wishes of their kind friends could have effect.
”

There was an electric silence. Sylvia recovered herself first
“
My dear Ingrid,
”
she said,
“
there is no need to be rude.
”

“I
would rather be rude than be unkind
,” sa
id Ingrid.
“
She was very happy and very much in
love
,
delighted to have a home to go to, and undaunted by the thought of doing without some things. And you tried to dash her happiness and make her doubt.
”

“
M
y dear child, you don
’
t know what you are talking about. We know Paula, you don
’
t
...
May we have some more tea?
”

‘
I’m
just going for some hot water,
”
said Ingrid stiffly, and turned to go to the kitchen. As she
p
assed Patrick, she found
his
look full on her. There was a strange expression on his face, which Ingrid could not read
—
a curious and thoughtful expression, w
hi
ch seemed to be trying to sum
her up. I suppose, she thought defiantly, he is thinking that I am often rude. Well, I can
’
t help that, I can
’
t agree that it is a good thing to wipe the look of happiness from somebody
’
s lace. Why shouldn
’
t this Paula make a success of marriage if she has love and youth and willingness to make it work? Why should they always think that nothing will be a success without money? I have no money, but I consider myself more fortunate than either of them. I have a job that I love
—
and how I wish that I could get back to it
—
and youth and all life in front of me. Oh, they are material, and hard, and have lost the gift of unselfishness. In her disappointment, she lumped Patrick with them, with Sylvia and Pamela, although he had not said a word in the discussion.

When she returned to the living-room with the hot water, a new talk had been started on non-controversial matters. Ingrid thought that Arnold looked a little troubled, and reproa
che
d herself for not holding her peace. She had no way of knowing that both the men were on her side, that Arnold often deplored
his
wife
’
s uncharitableness, and that Patrick was applauding her in
his
mind, delighted that she had said what was in her heart to say.

Perhaps, Patrick was thinking, I misjudged her. Perhaps it was not dislike or unfriendliness that kept her from telling me about herself. Perhaps it really was that she had no opportunity that seemed suitable. If she had another opportunity, she might avail herself of it.

Pamela had to leave. She was dining with friends that night, with her family, and must not keep anybody waiting. Patrick went with her to her
c
ar.
Sylvia looked at Ingrid with cool dislike, but did not choose to bring up a subject once closed.

That evening, after supper, Arnold insisted that Ingrid should rest, while he and Patrick cleared everything away. Ingrid did not feel inclined to sit opposite Sylvia at the fireside, being pointedly ignored, and feeling the weight of her sister-in
-
law
’
s displeasure. She said that she would walk
outside
a little and went to fetch her coat.

“
Where is Ingrid?
”
asked Arnold on his return.

“
She went for a walk,
”
replied Sylvia.
“
Perhaps it will have a cooling effect. She is such a hot-head.
”

T
h
e men did not reply, but settled themselves
i
n their chairs.

“
Pleasant to have guests,
”
said Arnold,
“
but pleasanter still when they have gone.
”

Sylvia was about to speak sharply to
hi
m, but Patrick said lazily:

“
As long as you look upon me as family and
n
ot a guest, I agree with you entirely.
”

“
Family, of course,
”
said Arnold with conviction.

They talked pleasantly while the hands of the clock went slowly round, and Ingrid did not return. At last, Patrick said:

“
Sylvia
’
s hothouse atmosphere is making me sleepy. I
think
I shall follow Ingrid
’
s example and
go out for some air.
”

As Sylvia had noticed Patrick
’
s apparent indifference to Ingrid lately, and had never, in any case, connected them with each other, she raised no objection.

“
Put on a coat,
”
she advised,
“
and don
’
t be too long. You have a very early start in the morning.
”

“
A short walk round the quadrangle,
”
he said. He found Ingrid, as he had expected to find her, in the quadrangle. She was seated on a low Atone wall, her hands in the sleeves of her coat, motionless in the pale light of the moon.

“
May I join you?
”
he asked.

“
Certainly,
”
she replied, cool, formal as he.

“
What
a beautiful night,
”
he commented
.

“
Yes, wonderful.
”

“
Will you smoke?
”

“
No, thank you.
”

“
Mind if I do?
”

“
Not at all.
”

“
Thank you.
”

He lit his cigarette and smoked in silence. He did not need to wonder if she felt the magic peace and silence of this quadrangle, for she seemed to be steeped in it, and all he wondered was whether he happened to be an intruder into it. The tall spire of the Cathedral soared black against the silver-grey of the night sky, and the irregular shapes of the school Houses, battlemented, gabled, or plain, were dark masses round them, no longer familiar and comfortable with many lighted, yellow windows, but deserted, waiting for the life that would soon flow once more through their echoing corridors and lofty rooms.

“
D
o
you mind if I talk?
”
asked Patric
k.

“
Not at all,
”
said Ingrid.

“
I wanted to say,
”
he said slowly, choosing his words,
“
that I see that you and Sylvia do not always think in the same way about things. In fact, that you very often
think
differently. I know that Sylvia is not always easy to deal with
—
and of course, just now, she needs more patience from us than normally; and, in these circumstances, it is even kinder of you to stay here and look after her. I hope you realize that I do appreciate it I know that you already realize how grateful Arnold, as her husband, is. Please remember that I, as her brother, also am gratefu
l.
”

“
Thank you,
”
said Ingrid. 

“
There must be any number of things that you have to do, want to do, away from here,
”
he went
on.

She did not answer.

“
We have kept you a long time from such
thing
s
.
”

“
Perhaps it will not be much longer, as Sylvia is improving so consistently.
”

“
And I think you will be glad to go,
”
he said.

Now, he thought, she has a chance to tell me if she wishes. It would be quite easy for her, in the tranqui
l
lity of this peaceful night, to say: Why yes, I have a job I shall be glad to get back to. Why doesn
’
t she say it?

Ingrid was tongue-tied. She too, realized that here was an opportunity to talk to him about her work, that he was, in fact, asking her what she was going to do; but she no longer had an inclination to tell him. She did not like people who blew now hot, now cold. She liked them to be consistent. It was no good for Patrick to think he could charm her into friendliness when he was alone with her, and treat her with the utmost coldness before others. Perhaps (the thought occurred to her newly), he thought that Pamela would be jealous if he showed a liking for any other woman, but there must foe a happy medium between his coldness and his warmth. She did not like to be taken up and dropped; did not like to be in favor or out of it. She liked to know where she was with her friends.

So all the answer she made to him was:

“
When the time comes, I think Sylvia will be glad to see me go.
”

He sighed sharply. A few seconds later, he rose.

“
Come
,
”
he said.
“
It is getting cold here. We had better go in. There will be frost tonight.
”

She rose to go in with him.

Ve
r
y well, he thought. Very well. She shall have her privacy. I resolved if before. This time I mean it. There are many things about her I admire, many things to like; but I cannot account for this antipathy, and I cannot get over it. She shall go her own way, with Laurence
Pinder
, if he is to be the one, without any interference from me.