Read Online Encounters: stories by Elizabeth Bowen, Robarts - University of Toronto - Free Book Online Page B
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move came—all my life I seem to have been tied up, fastened on to things and people. Why, even the way the furniture was arranged at No. 17 held me so that I couldn't get away. The way the chairs went in the sitting-room.
And mother. Then, when I stayed behind to see the vans off; when I saw them taking down the overmantels, and your books went out, and the round table, and the sofa, I felt quite suddenly ' I'm free.' I said to myself, ' If Richard asks me
again ' But I thought he must be tired
of asking me. I said, ' If only he asks me again I can get away before this new house fastens on to me.'"
With her stoop, her untidiness, her vagueness and confusion, her irritating streaks of mysticism, he wondered: Could any man find her desirable?
He remembered Richard Evans, thin and jerky and vaguely displeasing to his orderly mind; with his terrible spasms of eloquence and his straggly moustache. He had come in often when they were at No. 17 and sat for hours in the lamplight, with his shadow gesticulating behind him on the wall.
"Nobody needs me,"she was saying."Nobody wants me, really, except him. I see it now, and I've got to"
"What about me? Don't I count? Don't I need you? What about all these years;
the housekeeping?"His voice rose to a wail,"and what the devil am I to do about the move?"
"Of course I'll see you through the move. Really, Herbert"
"I've been a good brother to you. We've got along very well; we've had a happy little home together all these years, haven't we, and now poor mother's gone"
His eloquence choked him. He was stabbed by the conviction that she should be saying all this to him. Instead she stood there, muHshly, hanging down her head.
"You're too old to marry,"he shouted;"it's—it's ridiculous!"
"Richard doesn't think so."
"You don't seem to realise you're leaving me alone with this great house on my hands, this great barn of a house; me a lonely man, with just that one silly old woman. I suppose Janet '11 go off and get married next! Nobody's too old to marry nowadays, it seems."
"No,"she said with placid conviction "You'll marry, of course."
"Marry—me?"
She turned to look at him, pink, self-confident, idiotically pretty.
"But of course. That's what I've been
feeling. While I was here Men are so
conservative! But this is no sort of life for you really, Herbert; you want a wife, a pretty, cheery wife. And children"
"Children!"
"Oh, don't shout, Herbert. Yes, you don't want the family to die out, do you, after you've made such a name for it, done such fine big things?"
He felt that two springs were broken in the sofa, and pressed the cushions carefully with his hand to discover the extent of further damage.
"Damn it all,"he said querulously,"I can't get used to another woman at my time of life!''
"Herbert, you've got no imagination."Her tone was amused, dispassionate. She was suddenly superior, radiant and aloof; his no longer, another man's possession.
Her speech chimed in with his thoughts.
"Every man's got to have one woman!"
Taking one of the candles, she turned and left the room.
He sat there almost in the darkness; putting one hand up he fidgeted with his tie. Sleeking down his hair he smiled to find it crisp, unthinned and healthy.
Slowly and cumbrously the machinery of his imagination creaked into movement.
He saw the drawing-room suffused with rosy light. Chairs and sofas were bright with the sheen of flowered chintzes, hung about with crisp and fluted frills. Over by the fire was the dark triangle of a grand piano; the top was open and a woman, with bright crimpy hair, sat before it, playing and singing."A pretty, cheery wife."There was a crimson carpet, soft like moss, and a tall palm shadowed up towards the ceiling. Muffled by the carpet he heard the patter of quick feet. The little girl wore a blue sash trailing down behind her, and there was a little boy in a black velvet suit. They could do very well without Cicely's escritoire.
LUNCH
AFTER
And mother. Then, when I stayed behind to see the vans off; when I saw them taking down the overmantels, and your books went out, and the round table, and the sofa, I felt quite suddenly ' I'm free.' I said to myself, ' If Richard asks me
again ' But I thought he must be tired
of asking me. I said, ' If only he asks me again I can get away before this new house fastens on to me.'"
With her stoop, her untidiness, her vagueness and confusion, her irritating streaks of mysticism, he wondered: Could any man find her desirable?
He remembered Richard Evans, thin and jerky and vaguely displeasing to his orderly mind; with his terrible spasms of eloquence and his straggly moustache. He had come in often when they were at No. 17 and sat for hours in the lamplight, with his shadow gesticulating behind him on the wall.
"Nobody needs me,"she was saying."Nobody wants me, really, except him. I see it now, and I've got to"
"What about me? Don't I count? Don't I need you? What about all these years;
the housekeeping?"His voice rose to a wail,"and what the devil am I to do about the move?"
"Of course I'll see you through the move. Really, Herbert"
"I've been a good brother to you. We've got along very well; we've had a happy little home together all these years, haven't we, and now poor mother's gone"
His eloquence choked him. He was stabbed by the conviction that she should be saying all this to him. Instead she stood there, muHshly, hanging down her head.
"You're too old to marry,"he shouted;"it's—it's ridiculous!"
"Richard doesn't think so."
"You don't seem to realise you're leaving me alone with this great house on my hands, this great barn of a house; me a lonely man, with just that one silly old woman. I suppose Janet '11 go off and get married next! Nobody's too old to marry nowadays, it seems."
"No,"she said with placid conviction "You'll marry, of course."
"Marry—me?"
She turned to look at him, pink, self-confident, idiotically pretty.
"But of course. That's what I've been
feeling. While I was here Men are so
conservative! But this is no sort of life for you really, Herbert; you want a wife, a pretty, cheery wife. And children"
"Children!"
"Oh, don't shout, Herbert. Yes, you don't want the family to die out, do you, after you've made such a name for it, done such fine big things?"
He felt that two springs were broken in the sofa, and pressed the cushions carefully with his hand to discover the extent of further damage.
"Damn it all,"he said querulously,"I can't get used to another woman at my time of life!''
"Herbert, you've got no imagination."Her tone was amused, dispassionate. She was suddenly superior, radiant and aloof; his no longer, another man's possession.
Her speech chimed in with his thoughts.
"Every man's got to have one woman!"
Taking one of the candles, she turned and left the room.
He sat there almost in the darkness; putting one hand up he fidgeted with his tie. Sleeking down his hair he smiled to find it crisp, unthinned and healthy.
Slowly and cumbrously the machinery of his imagination creaked into movement.
He saw the drawing-room suffused with rosy light. Chairs and sofas were bright with the sheen of flowered chintzes, hung about with crisp and fluted frills. Over by the fire was the dark triangle of a grand piano; the top was open and a woman, with bright crimpy hair, sat before it, playing and singing."A pretty, cheery wife."There was a crimson carpet, soft like moss, and a tall palm shadowed up towards the ceiling. Muffled by the carpet he heard the patter of quick feet. The little girl wore a blue sash trailing down behind her, and there was a little boy in a black velvet suit. They could do very well without Cicely's escritoire.
LUNCH
AFTER
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