Father and son walked in silence. They were fond of each other; they liked being together; Mr Whately was very proud of his son's achievements; but their affection was never expressed in words. After a while they began to talk of indifferent things, guessing at each other's thoughts: a relationship of intuitions. They passed along the High Street and, turning behind the shops, walked down a long street of small red-brick villas with stucco fronts.
"Don't you think we ought to go in and see the Curtises?" Mr Whately asked.
"I don't know. I hadn't meant to. I thought...."
"I think you ought to, you know, your first day; they'd be rather offended if you didn't. April asked me when you were coming back."
And so Roland was bound to abandon his virtuous resolution.
It was not a particularly jolly evening before Ralph arrived. Afterwards it was a good deal worse.
In the old days, when father and son had paid an evening visit, Roland had run straight up to the nursery and enjoyed himself, but now he had to sit in the drawing-room, which was a very different matter. He did not like Mrs Curtis: he never had liked her, but she had not troubled him in the days when she had been a mere voice below the banisters. Now he had to sit in the small drawing-room, with its shut windows, and hear her voice cleave through the clammy atmosphere in languid, pathetic cadences; a sentimental voice, and under the sentiment a hard, cold cruelty. Her person was out of keeping with her voice; it should have been plump and comfortable-looking; instead it was tall, thin, angular, all over points, like a hat-rack in a restaurant: a terrible bedfellow. And she talked, heavens! how she talked. It was usually about her children.
"Dear Arthur, he's getting on so well at school. Do you know what his headmaster said about him in his report?"
"Oh, but, mother, please," Arthur would protest.
"No, dear, be quiet: I know Mr Whately would like to hear. The headmaster said, Mr Whately...." Then it was her daughter's turn. "And April too, Mr Whately, she's getting on so well with her drawing lessons. Mr Hamilton was only saying to me yesterday...."