And yet of course Coryston would inherit some day. That was taken for granted among them. What were Tory principles worth if they did not some time, at some stage, secure an eldest son, and an orthodox succession?
Corry was still in the position of heir, when he should normally have become owner. It was very trying for him, no doubt. But exceptional women make exceptional circ.u.mstances. And they were all agreed that their mother was an exceptional woman.
But whatever the business, they would hardly get through without a scene, and during the past week there had been a number of mysterious interviews with lawyers going on.... What was it all about? To distract her thoughts she struck up conversation.
"Did you see Enid Glenwilliam, mother, in Palace Yard?"
"I just noticed her," said Lady Coryston, indifferently. "One can"t help it, she dresses so outrageously."
"Oh, mother, she dresses very well! Of course n.o.body else could wear that kind of thing."
Lady Coryston lifted her eyebrows.
"That"s where the ill-breeding comes in--that a young girl should make herself so conspicuous."
"Well, it seems to pay," laughed Marcia. "She has tremendous success.
People on our side--people you"d never think--will do anything to get her for their parties. They say she makes things go. She doesn"t care what she says."
"That I can quite believe! Yes--I saw she was at Shrewsbury House the other day--dining--when the Royalties were there. The daughter of that _man_!"
Lady Coryston"s left foot gave a sharp push to a footstool lying in her path, as though it were Glenwilliam himself.
Marcia laughed.
"And she"s very devoted to him, too. She told some one who told me, that he was so much more interesting than any other man she knew, that she hadn"t the least wish to marry! I suppose you wouldn"t like it if I were to make a friend of her?" The girl"s tone had a certain slight defiance in it.
"Do what you like when I"m gone, my dear," said Lady Coryston, quietly.
Marcia flushed, and would have replied, but for the sudden and distant sound of the hall-door bell. Lady Coryston instantly stopped her pacing and took her seat beside a table on which, as Marcia now noticed, certain large envelopes had been laid. The girl threw herself into a low chair behind her mother, conscious of a distress, a fear, she could not a.n.a.lyze. There was a small fire in the grate, for the May evening was chilly, but on the other side of the room a window was open to the twilight, and in a luminous sky cut by the black boughs of a plane tree, and the roofs of a tall building, Marcia saw a bright star shining. The heavy drawing-room, with its gilt furniture and its electric lights, seemed for a moment blotted out. That patch of sky suggested strange, alien, inexorable things; while all the time the sound of mounting footsteps on the stairs grew nearer.
In they came, her three brothers, laughing and talking. Coryston first, then James, then Arthur. Lady Coryston rose to meet them, and they all kissed their mother. Then Coryston, with his hands on his sides, stood in front of her, examining her face with hard, amused eyes, as much as to say, "Now, then, for the scene. Let"s get it over!" He was the only one of the three men who was not in evening dress. He wore, indeed, a shabby greenish-gray suit, and a flannel shirt. Marcia noticed it with indignation. "It"s not respectful to mother!" she thought, angrily. "It"s all very well to be a Socialist and a Bohemian. But there are decencies!"
In spite, however, of the shabby suit and the flannel shirt, in spite also of the fact that he was short and very slight, while his brothers were both of them over six feet and broadly built men, there could be no doubt that, as soon as he entered, Coryston held the stage. He was one of the mercurial men who exist in order to keep the human tide in movement. Their opinions matter princ.i.p.ally because without them the opinions of other men would not exist. Their function is to provoke. And from the time he was a babe in the nursery Coryston had fulfilled it to perfection.
He himself would have told you he was simply the reaction from his mother.
And indeed, although from the time he had achieved trousers their joint lives had been one scene of combat, they were no sooner in presence of each other than the strange links between them made themselves felt no less than the irreconcilable differences.
Now, indeed, as, after a few bantering remarks to his mother on his recent political escapades--remarks which she took in complete silence--he settled himself in a high chair in front of her to listen to what she had to say, no subtle observer of the scene but must have perceived the likeness--through all contrast--between mother and son. Lady Coryston was tall, large-boned, thin to emaciation, imposing--a Lady Macbeth of the drawing-room. Coryston was small, delicately finished, a whimsical snippet of a man--on wires--never at ease--the piled fair hair overbalancing the face and the small, sarcastic chin. And yet the essential note of both physiognomies, of both aspects, was the same. _Will_--carried to extremes, absorbing and swallowing up the rest of the personality. Lady Coryston had handed on the disease of her own character to her son, and it was in virtue of what she had given him that she had made him her enemy.
Her agitation in his presence, in spite of her proud bearing, was indeed evident, at least to Marcia. Marcia read her; had indeed been compelled to read her mother--the movements of hand and brow, the tricks of expression--from childhood up. And she detected, from various signs of nervousness, that Lady Coryston expected a rough time.
She led the way to it, however, with deliberation. She took no notice of Coryston"s, "Well, mother, what"s up? Somebody to be tried and executed?"
but, waving to him to take a particular chair, she asked the others to sit, and placed herself beside the table which held the sheets of folded foolscap. The ugly electric light from overhead fell full upon the pallid oval of her face, on her lace cap, and shimmering black dress. Only Marcia noticed that the hand which took up the foolscap shook a little. It was an old hand, delicately white, with large finger-joints.
"I can"t pretend to make a jest of what I"m going to say," she said, with a look at Coryston. "I wanted to speak to you all on a matter of business--not very agreeable business, but necessary. I am sure you will hear me out, and believe that I am doing my best, according to my lights, by the family--the estates--and the country."
At the last slowly spoken words Lady Coryston drew herself up. Especially when she said "the country," it was as though she mentioned something peculiarly her own, something attacked which fled to her for protection.
Marcia looked round on her three brothers: Coryston sunk in a big gilt chair, one leg c.o.c.ked over the other, his fingers lightly crossed above his head; James with his open brow, his snub nose, his charming expression; and Arthur, who had coaxed Lady Coryston"s spaniel on to his lap and was pulling his ears. He looked, she thought, bored and only half attentive.
And yet she was tolerably certain that he knew no more than she did what Was going to happen.
"I am quite aware," said Lady Coryston, resuming after a pause, "that in leaving his estates and the bulk of his fortune to myself your dear father did an unusual thing, and one for which many persons have blamed him--"
Coryston"s c.o.c.ked leg descended abruptly to the ground. Marcia turned an anxious eye upon him; but nothing more happened, and the voice speaking went on:
"He did it, as I believe you have all recognized, because he desired that in these difficult times, when everything is being called in question, and all our inst.i.tutions, together with the ideas which support them, are in danger, I should, during my lifetime, continue to support and carry out his ideas--the ideas he and I had held in common--and should remain the guardian of all those customs and traditions on his estates which he had inherited--and in which he believed--"
Coryston suddenly sat up, shook down his coat vehemently, and putting his elbows on his knees, propped his face on them, the better to observe his mother. James was fingering his watch-chain, with downcast eyes, the slightest smile on his gently twitching mouth; Arthur was measuring one ear of the spaniel against the other.
"Two years," said Lady Coryston, "have now pa.s.sed since your father"s death. I have done my best with my trust, though of course I realize that I cannot have satisfied _all_ my children." She paused a moment. "I have not wasted any of your father"s money in personal luxury--that none of you can say. The old establishment, the old ways, have been kept up--nothing more. And I have certainly _wished_"--she laid a heavy emphasis on the word--"to act for the good of all of you. You, James, have your own fortune, but I think you know that if you had wanted money at any time, for any reasonable purpose, you had only to ask for it. Marcia also has her own money; but when it comes to her marriage, I desire nothing better than to provide for her amply. And now, as to Coryston--"
She turned to him, facing him magnificently, though not, as Marcia was certain, without trepidation. Coryston flung back his head with a laugh.
"Ah, now we come to it!" he said. "The rest was all "but leather and prunella.""
James murmured, "Corry--old man?" Marcia flushed angrily.
"Coryston also knows very well," said Lady Coryston, coldly, "that everything he could possibly have claimed--"
"Short of the estates--which were my right," put in Coryston, quietly, with an amused look.
His mother went on without noticing the interruption:
"--would have been his--either now or in due time--if he would only have made certain concessions--"
"Sold my soul and held my tongue?--quite right!" said Coryston. "I have scores of your letters, my dear mother, to that effect."
Lady Coryston slightly raised her voice, and for the first time it betrayed emotion.
"If he would, in simple decent respect to his father"s memory and consideration of his mother"s feelings, have refrained from attacking his father"s convictions--"
"What!--you think he still has them--in the upper regions?"
Coryston flung an audacious hand toward the ceiling. Lady Coryston grew pale. Marcia looked fiercely at her brother, and, coming to her mother"s side, she took her hand.
"Your brothers and sister, Coryston, will not allow you, I think, to insult your father"s memory!" The voice audibly shook.
Coryston sprang up impetuously and came to stand over his mother, his hands on his sides.
"Now look here, mother. Let"s come to business. You"ve been plotting something more against me, and I want to know what it is. Have you been dishing me altogether?--cutting me finally out of the estates? Is that what you mean? Let"s have it!"
Lady Coryston"s face stiffened anew into a gray obstinacy.
"I prefer, Coryston, to tell my story in my own words and in my own way--"
"Yes--but please _tell_ it!" said Coryston, sharply. "Is it fair to keep us on tenter-hooks? What is that paper, for instance? Extracts, I guess, from your will--which concern me--and the rest of them"--he waved his hand toward the other three. "For G.o.d"s sake let"s have them, and get done with it."
"I will read them, if you will sit down, Coryston."
With a whimsical shake of the head Coryston returned to his chair. Lady Coryston took up the folded paper.