CHAPTER XXXIV

eceandAfrica,andboughtforestsfromthenativesforafewbottlesofgin.“I’vegotit,”hesaidatlast.“It’sperfectlyeasy.Leaveittome.We’llsendherdowntoHowardsEnd.” “Howwillyoudothat?” “Afterherbooks.Tellherthatshemustunpackthemherself.Thenyoucanmeetherthere.” “But,Henry,that’sjustwhatshewon’tletmedo.It’spartofher—whateveritis—nevertoseeme.” “Ofcourseyouwon’ttellheryou’regoing.Whensheisthere,lookingatthecases,you’lljuststrollin.Ifnothingiswrongwithher,somuchthebetter.Butthere’llbethemotorroundthecorner,andwecanrunhertoaspecialistinnotime.” Margaretshookherhead.“It’squiteimpossible.” “Why?” “Itdoesn’tseemimpossibletome,”saidTibby“itissurelyaverytippyplan.” “Itisimpossible,because—”Shelookedatherhusbandsadly.“It’snottheparticularlanguagethatHelenandItalk,ifyouseemymeaning.Itwoulddosplendidlyforotherpeople,whomIdon’tblame.” “ButHelendoesn’ttalk,”saidTibby.“That’sourwholedifficulty.Shewon’ttalkyourparticularlanguage,andonthataccountyouthinkshe’sill.” “No,Henryit’ssweetofyou,butIcouldn’t.” “Isee,”hesaid“youhavescruples.” “Isupposeso.” “Andsoonerthangoagainstthemyouwouldhaveyoursistersuffer.YoucouldhavegotherdowntoSwanagebyaword,butyouhadscruples.Andscruplesareallverywell.Iamasscrupulousasanymanalive,Ihopebutwhenitisacaselikethis,whenthereisaquestionofmadness—” “Idenyit’smadness.” “Yousaidjustnow—” “It’smadnesswhenIsayit,butnotwhenyousayit.” Henryshruggedhisshoulders.“Margaret!Margaret!”hegroaned.“Noeducationcanteachawomanlogic.Now,mydear,mytimeisvaluable.Doyouwantmetohelpyouornot?” “Notinthatway.” “Answermyquestion.Plainquestion,plainanswer.Do—” Charlessurprisedthembyinterrupting.“Pater,wemayaswellkeepHowardsEndoutofit,”hesaid. “Why,Charles?” CharlescouldgivenoreasonbutMargaretfeltasif,overtremendousdistance,asalutationhadpassedbetweenthem. “Thewholehouseisatsixesandsevens,”hesaidcrossly.“Wedon’twantanymoremess.” “Who’s‘we’?”askedhisfather.“Myboy,praywho’s‘we’?” “IamsureIbegyourpardon,”saidCharles.“Iappearalwaystobeintruding.” BynowMargaretwishedshehadnevermentionedhertroubletoherhusband.Retreatwasimpossible.Hewasdeterminedtopushthemattertoasatisfactoryconclusion,andHelenfadedashetalked.Herfair,flyinghairandeagereyescountedfornothing,forshewasill,withoutrights,andanyofherfriendsmighthunther.Sickatheart,Margaretjoinedinthechase.Shewrotehersisteralyingletter,atherhusband’sdictationshesaidthefurniturewasallatHowardsEnd,butcouldbeseenonMondaynextat3P.M.,whenacharwomanwouldbeinattendance.Itwasacoldletter,andthemoreplausibleforthat.Helenwouldthinkshewasoffended.AndonMondaynextsheandHenryweretolunchwithDolly,andthenambushthemselvesinthegarden. Aftertheyhadgone,Mr.Wilcoxsaidtohisson:“Ican’thavethissortofbehaviour,myboy.Margaret’stoosweet-naturedtomind,butImindforher.” Charlesmadenoanswer. “Isanythingwrongwithyou,Charles,thisafternoon?” “No,paterbutyoumaybetakingonabiggerbusinessthanyoureckon.” “How?” “Don’taskme.”