CHAPTER XI

veheardyouallshoutinginthegarden.Iwon’thaveit.Comein.” Hestoodintheporch,transformed,lettersinhishand. “Intothedining-room,everyoneofyou.Wecan’tdiscussprivatemattersinthemiddleofalltheservants.Here,Charles,herereadthese.Seewhatyoumake.” Charlestooktwoletters,andreadthemashefollowedtheprocession.Thefirstwasacoveringnotefromthematron.Mrs.Wilcoxhaddesiredher,whenthefuneralshouldbeover,toforwardtheenclosed.Theenclosed—itwasfromhismotherherself.Shehadwritten:“Tomyhusband:IshouldlikeMissSchlegel(Margaret)tohaveHowardsEnd.” “Isupposewe’regoingtohaveatalkaboutthis?”heremarked,ominouslycalm. “Certainly.IwascomingouttoyouwhenDolly—” “Well,let’ssitdown.” “Come,Evie,don’twastetime,sit—down.” Insilencetheydrewuptothebreakfast-table.Theeventsofyesterday—indeed,ofthismorningsuddenlyrecededintoapastsoremotethattheyseemedscarcelytohavelivedinit.Heavybreathingswereheard.Theywerecalmingthemselves.Charles,tosteadythemfurther,readtheenclosureoutloud:“Anoteinmymother’shandwriting,inanenvelopeaddressedtomyfather,sealed.Inside:‘IshouldlikeMissSchlegel(Margaret)tohaveHowardsEnd.’Nodate,nosignature.Forwardedthroughthematronofthatnursinghome.Now,thequestionis—” Dollyinterruptedhim.“ButIsaythatnoteisn’tlegal.Housesoughttobedonebyalawyer,Charles,surely.” Herhusbandworkedhisjawseverely.Littlelumpsappearedinfrontofeitherear—asymptomthatshehadnotyetlearnttorespect,andsheaskedwhethershemightseethenote.Charleslookedathisfatherforpermission,whosaidabstractedly,“Giveither.”Sheseizedit,andatonceexclaimed:“Why,it’sonlyinpencil!Isaidso.Pencilnevercounts.” “Weknowthatitisnotlegallybinding,Dolly,”saidMr.Wilcox,speakingfromoutofhisfortress.“Weareawareofthat.Legally,Ishouldbejustifiedintearingitupandthrowingitintothefire.Ofcourse,mydear,weconsideryouasoneofthefamily,butitwillbebetterifyoudonotinterferewithwhatyoudonotunderstand.” Charles,vexedbothwithhisfatherandhiswife,thenrepeated:“Thequestionis—”Hehadclearedaspaceofthebreakfast-tablefromplatesandknives,sothathecoulddrawpatternsonthetablecloth.“ThequestioniswhetherMissSchlegel,duringthefortnightwewereallaway,whethersheunduly—”Hestopped. “Idon’tthinkthat,”saidhisfather,whosenaturewasnoblerthanhisson’s. “Don’tthinkwhat?” “Thatshewouldhave—thatitisacaseofundueinfluence.No,tomymindthequestionisthe—theinvalid’sconditionatthetimeshewrote.” “Mydearfather,consultanexpertifyoulike,butIdon’tadmititismymother’swriting.” “Why,youjustsaiditwas!”criedDolly. “NevermindifIdid,”heblazedout“andholdyourtongue.” Thepoorlittlewifecolouredatthis,and,drawingherhandkerchieffromherpocket,shedafewtears.Noonenoticedher.Eviewasscowlinglikeanangryboy.Thetwomenweregraduallyassumingthemannerofthecommittee-room.Theywerebothattheirbestwhenservingoncommittees.Theydidnotmakethemistakeofhandlinghumanaffairsinthebulk,butdisposedofthemitembyitem,sharply.Caligraphywastheitembeforethemnow,andonittheyturnedtheirwell-trainedbrains.Charles,afteralittledemur,acceptedthewritingasgenuine,andtheypassedontothenextpoint.Itisthebest—perhapstheonly—wayofdodgingemotion.Theyweretheaveragehumanarticle,andhadtheyconsideredthenoteasawholeitwouldhavedriventhemmiserableormad.Considereditembyitem,theemotionalcontentwasminimised,andallwentforwardsmoothly.Theclockticked,thecoalsblazedhigher,andcontendedwiththewhiteradiancethatpouredinthroughthewindows.Unnoticed,thesunoccupiedhissky,andtheshadowsofthetreestems,extraordinarilysolid,fellliketrenchesofpurpleacrossthefrostedlawn.Itwasagloriouswintermorning.Evie’sfoxterrier,whohadpassedforwhite,wasonlyadirtygreydognow,sointensewasthepuritythatsurroundedhim.Hewasdiscredited,buttheblackbirdsthathewaschasingglowedwithArabiandarkness,foralltheconventionalcolouringoflifehadbeenaltered.Inside,theclockstrucktenwitharichandconfidentnote.Otherclocksconfirmedit,andthediscussionmovedtowardsitsclose. Tofollowitisunnecessary.Itisratheramomentwhenthecommentatorshouldstepforward.OughttheWilcoxestohaveofferedtheirhometoMargaret?Ithinknot.Theappealwastooflimsy.Itwasnotlegalithadbeenwritteninillness,andunderthespellofasuddenfriendshipitwascontrarytothedeadwoman’sintentionsinthepast,contrarytoherverynature,sofarasthatnaturewasunderstoodbythem.TothemHowardsEndwasahouse:theycouldnotknowthattoherithadbeenaspirit,forwhichshesoughtaspiritualheir.And—pushingonestepfartherinthesemists—maytheynothavedecidedevenbetterthantheysupposed?Isitcrediblethatthepossessionsofthespiritcanbebequeathedatall?Hasthesouloffspring?Awych-elmtree,av