2
“I’m glad you came up. I want to ask you what is to be done about Hendie.”
Miriam looked about the boudoir. Mrs. Green had hardly looked at her. She was smiling at her fancy work. But if one did not say something soon she would speak again, going on into things from her point of view. Doctor and medicine. Eve liked it all. She liked Mrs. Green’s clever difficult fancy work and the boudoir smell of Turkish beans and the house and garden and the bazaars and village entertainments and the children’s endless expensive clothes and the excitements and troubles about that fat man. Down here she was in a curious flush of excitement all the time herself....
“I think she wants a rest.”
“I told her so. But resting seems to make her worse. We all thought she was worse after the holidays.”
Miriam’s eyes fell before the sudden glance of Mrs. Green’s blue green eye. She must have seen her private vision of life in the great rich house ... misery, death with no escape. But they had Eve. Eve did not know what was killing her. She liked being tied to people.
“She is very nervous.”
“Yes. I know it’s only nerves. I’ve told her that.”
“But you don’t know what nerves are. They’re not just nothing....”
“You’re not nervous.”
“Don’t you think so?”
“Not in the way Hendie is. You’re a solid little person.”
Miriam laughed and thought of Germany and Newlands and Banbury Park. But this house would be a thousand times worse. There was no one in it who knew anything about anything. That was why when she was not too bad Eve thought it was good for her to be there.
“I think she’s very happy here.”
“I’m glad you think that. But something must be done. She can’t go on with these perpetual headaches and sleeplessness and attacks of weepiness.”
“I think she wants a long rest.”
“What does she do with her holidays? Doesn’t she rest then?”
“Yes, but there are always worries” said Miriam desperately.
“You have had a good deal of worry—how is your father?”
How much do you know about that.... How does it strike you....
“He is all right, I think.”
“He lives with your eldest sister.”
“Yes.”
“That’s very nice for him. I expect the little grandson will be a great interest.”
“Yes.”
“And your youngest sister has a little girl?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like children?”
“I expect you spend a good deal of your time with your sisters.”
“Well—it’s a fearful distance.” Why didn’t you ask me all these things when I was staying with you. There’s no time now....
“Do you like living alone in London?”
“Well—I’m fearfully busy.”
“I expect you are. I think it’s wonderful. But you must be awfully lonely sometimes.”
Miriam fidgeted and wondered how to go.
“Well—come down and see us again. I’m glad I had this chance of talking to you about Hendie.”
“Perhaps she’ll be better in the winter. I think she’s really better in the cold weather.”
“Well—we’ll hope so,” said Mrs. Green getting up. “I can’t think what’s the matter with her. There’s nothing to worry her down here.”
“No” said Miriam emphatically in a worldly tone of departure. “Thank you so much for having me” she said feebly as they passed through the flower-scented hall the scent of the flowers hanging delicately within the stronger odour of the large wood-fire.
“I’m glad you came. We thought it would be nice for both of you.”
“Yes it was very kind of you. I’m sure she wants a complete rest.” Away from us away from you in some new place....
In the open light of the garden Mrs. Green’s eyes were almost invisible points. She ought to do her hair smaller. The fashionable bundle of little sausages did not suit a large head. The eyes looked more sunken and dead than Eve’s with her many headaches. But she was strong—a strong hard thunder-cloud at breakfast. Perhaps very unhappy. But wealthy. Strong, cruel wealth, eating up lives it did not understand. How did Eve manage to read Music and Morals and Olive Schreiner here?