PART TWO

DECEMBER 23RD

Tressilian went to answer the doorbell. It had been an unusually aggressive peal¹, and now, beforehe could make his slow way across the hall, it pealed² out again.

Tressilian flushed. An ill-mannered, impatient way of ringing the bell at a gentleman’s house!

If it was a fresh lot of those carol singers he’d give them a piece of his mind.

Through the frosted glass of the upper half of the door he saw a silhouette—a big man in aslouch hat. He opened the door. As he had thought—a cheap, flashy stranger—nasty pattern of suithe was wearing—loud! Some impudent³ begging fellow!

“Blessed if it isn’t Tressilian,” said the stranger. “How are you, Tressilian?”

Tressilian stared—took a deep breath—stared again. That bold arrogant⁴ jaw⁵, the high-bridgednose, the rollicking eye. Yes, they had all been there three years ago. More subdued⁶ then. .?.?.

He said with a gasp⁷:

“Mr. Harry⁸!”

Harry Lee laughed.

“Looks as though I’d given you quite a shock. Why? I’m expected, aren’t I?”

“Yes, indeed, sir. Certainly, sir.”

“Then why the surprise act?” Harry stepped back a foot or two and looked up at the house—agood solid mass of red brick, unimaginative but solid.

“Just the same ugly old mansion,” he remarked. “Still standing⁹, though, that’s the main thing.

How’s my father, Tressilian?”

“He’s somewhat of an invalid¹⁰, sir. Keeps his room, and can’t get about much. But he’swonderfully well, considering.”

“The old sinner!”

Harry Lee came inside, let Tressilian remove his scarf and take the somewhat theatrical¹¹ hat.

“How’s my dear brother Alfred, Tressilian?”

“He’s very well, sir.”

Harry grinned.

“Looking forward to seeing me? Eh?”

“I expect so, sir.”

“I don’t! Quite the contrary. I bet it’s given him a nasty jolt¹², my turning up! Alfred and Inever did get on. Ever read your Bible, Tressilian?”

“Why, yes, sir, sometimes, sir.”

“Remember the tale of the prodigal’s return? The good brother didn’t like it, remember?

Didn’t like it at all! Good old stay-at-home Alfred doesn’t like it either, I bet.”

Tressilian remained silent looking down his nose. His stiffened¹³ back expressed protest. Harryclapped him on the shoulder.

“Lead on, old son,” he said. “The fatted calf¹⁴ awaits me! Lead me right to it.”

Tressilian murmured:

“If you will come this way into the drawing room, sir. I am not quite sure where everyone is.?.?. They were unable to send to meet you, sir, not knowing the time of your arrival.”

Harry nodded. He followed Tressilian along the hall, turning his head to look about him as hewent.

“All the old exhibits in their place, I see,” he remarked. “I don’t believe anything has changedsince I went away twenty years ago.”

He followed Tressilian into the drawing room. The old man murmured:

“I will see if I can find Mr. or Mrs. Alfred,” and hurried out.

Harry Lee had marched into the room and had then stopped, staring at the figure who wasseated on one of the windowsills. His eyes roamed incredulously over the black hair and thecreamy exotic pallor.

“Good Lord!” he said. “Are you my father’s seventh and most beautiful wife?”

Pilar slipped down and came towards him.

“I am Pilar Estravados,” she announced. “And you must be my Uncle Harry, my mother’sbrother.”

Harry said, staring:

“So that’s who you are! Jenny’s daughter.”

Pilar said: “Why did you ask me if I was your father’s seventh wife? Has he really had sixwives?”

Harry laughed.

“No, I believe he’s only had one official one. Well—Pil—what’s your name?”

“Pilar, yes.”

“Well, Pilar, it really gives me quite a turn to see something like you blooming in thismausoleum.”

“This—maus—please?”

“This museum of stuffed dummies¹⁵! I always thought this house was lousy! Now I see it againI think it’s lousier than ever!”

Pilar said in a shocked voice:

“Oh, no, it is very handsome here! The furniture is good and the carpets—thick carpetseverywhere—and there are lots of ornaments¹⁶. Everything is very good quality and very, veryrich!”

“You’re right there,” said Harry, grinning. He looked at her with amusement. “You know, Ican’t help getting a kick out of seeing you in the midst—”

He broke off as Lydia came rapidly into the room.

She came straight to him.

“How d’you do, Harry? I’m Lydia—Alfred’s wife.”

“How de do, Lydia.” He shook hands, examining her intelligent mobile face in a swift glanceand approving mentally of the way she walked—very few women moved well.

Lydia in her turn took quick stock of him.

She thought: “He looks a frightful¹⁷ tough—attractive though. I wouldn’t trust him an inch.

.?.?.”

She said smiling:

“How does it look after all these years? Quite different, or very much the same?”

“Pretty much the same.” He looked round him. “This room’s been done over.”

“Oh, many times.”

He said:

“I meant by you. You’ve made it—different.”

“Yes, I expect so. .?.?.”

He grinned at her, a sudden impish grin that reminded her with a start of the old man upstairs.

“It’s got more class about it now! I remember hearing that old Alfred had married a girlwhose people came over with the Conqueror¹⁸.”

Lydia smiled. She said:

“I believe they did. But they’ve rather run to seed since those days.”

Harry said:

“How’s old Alfred? Just the same blessed old stick-in-the-mud as ever?”

“I’ve no idea whether you will find him changed or not.”

“How are the others? Scattered¹⁹ all over England?”

“No—they’re all here for Christmas, you know.”

Harry’s eyes opened.

“Regular Christmas family reunion? What’s the matter with the old man? He used not to givea damn for sentiment. Don’t remember his caring much for his family, either. He must havechanged!”

“Perhaps.” Lydia’s voice was dry.

Pilar was staring, her big eyes wide and interested.

Harry said:

“How’s old George? Still the same skinflint? How he used to howl if he had to part with ahalfpenny of his pocket money!”

Lydia said:

“George is in Parliament. He’s member for Westeringham.”

“What? Popeye in Parliament? Lord, that’s good.”

Harry threw back his head and laughed.

It was rich stentorian²⁰ laughter—it sounded uncontrolled and brutal²¹ in the confined space ofthe room. Pilar drew in her breath with a gasp. Lydia flinched²² a little.

Then, at a movement behind him, Harry broke off his laugh and turned sharply. He had notheard anyone coming in, but Alfred was standing there quietly. He was looking at Harry with anodd expression on his face.

Harry stood a minute, then a slow smile crept to his lips. He advanced a step.

“Why,” he said, “it’s Alfred!”

Alfred nodded.

“Hallo, Harry,” he said.

They stood staring at each other. Lydia caught her breath. She thought:

“How absurd! Like two dogs—looking at each other. .?.?.”

Pilar’s gaze widened even further. She thought to herself:

“How silly they look standing there .?.?. Why do they not embrace? No, of course the Englishdo not do that. But they might say something. Why do they just look?”

Harry said at last:

“Well, well. Feels funny to be here again!”

“I expect so—yes. A good many years since you—got out.”

Harry threw up his head. He drew his finger along the line of his jaw. It was a gesture thatwas habitual²³ with him. It expressed belligerence²⁴.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m glad I have come”—he paused to bring out the word with greatersignificance—“home. .?.?.”

 

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