Read Online Men and Wives by Ivy Compton-Burnett - Free Book Online Page A

Father,” said Matthew, while Jermyn’s glance at his sister resulted in a tremble of hysterical sound, and Dominic’s half-smile told of a sympathy with her natural preoccupations, that would normally have resulted in a whole one.
    â€œWell, now, Spong,” said Godfrey, “and what will you be doing in these next months? I mean, how will you be managing in your spare time? You won’t misunderstand an old friend’s concern?”
    â€œSir Godfrey, I shall have my work. There is much in it happily that tends to the benefit of others, and so to the steadying of my own spirits. As for spare time, I must do my best to avoid it.” He had the stoicism to smile.
    â€œYou are of a good heart and a good courage, Spong,” said Geoffrey, content, as often, with an approach to scriptural phrase.
    â€œDo you find that your research work continues to hold your interest, Matthew?” said Dominic, sinking himself in another.
    â€œYes, I do completely,” said Matthew.
    â€œYou find it satisfying?” said Dominic, aware of Harriet’s feeling, and ranged on the side of power.
    â€œYes,” said Matthew. “It is like your work, and tends to the benefit of others; I should say to their ultimate benefit.”
    â€œPerhaps rather ultimate, Lady Haslam,” said Dominic with an arch smile at Harriet, his general subdued condition not extending to his intercourse with the young.
    â€œThe risk of achieving nothing may be involved in the effort to achieve something,” said Harriet.
    â€œYes,” said Dominic, his smile becoming tender.
    â€œWell put, my dear, “said Godfrey, with a note of surprise.
    â€œDo you find that you slip into the minds of your clients when you are dealing with them, or that you hate them?” Gregory asked him with gentle interest.
    â€œI certainly do not find that I hate them, Gregory. Of course my work brings me into contact at times with the sordid side of humanity. But there is much to compensate, much beauty of character, much heroic effort, much sacrifice of self. All things come together in the life I have chosen.”
    â€œIsn’t it very dreadful to see sacrifice of self?” said Griselda.
    â€œMiss Griselda, sometimes very beautiful.”
    â€œIt seems rather ruthless to be a satisfied spectator,” said Jermyn.
    â€œWell, Jermyn, and are you still wrapped up in your poetry?” said Dominic, reminded of Jermyn’s tendencies by his own high words, and visiting his speech in his choice of phrase.
    â€œYes, wrapped up in it, absorbed in it, utterly engrossed in it to the exclusion of all juster claims.”
    â€œOh, well, Jermyn, moderation in all things,” said Dominic. “But it must be very beautiful, Jermyn, to go wandering about on the moors, notebook in hand, and jot down any little poetic thoughts”—Dominic made a waving movement with his hand— “that come to the mind with the beauty of everything around. To go roaming hither and thither, with nothing to do but let the fancies crowd through one’s brain. If the real business of life had not claimed me, if I had not been vowed upon a somewhat sterner altar, I should have been happy to take my share in the more graceful side of life.”
    â€œOriginal verse must make more demand than professional work,” said Matthew, who did not cope with the problem of Dominic.
    â€œMatthew means writing poetry seriously like a real poet,” said Griselda.
    â€œMiss Griselda, I was not speaking of writing poetry seriously like a real poet. I am not confusing myself with Tennyson,” said Dominic, ending with mild laughter.
    â€œOh well, but Jermyn thinks of himself in that way. That is Jermyn’s spirit,” said Godfrey, not estimating his rashness. “He doesn’t put himself down as some amateur poet, wandering about jotting things down, not Jermyn. He is to be one of those who are looked up to