Part 2 (1/2)
”I see. But suppose you can't tell which is the right thing and which the wrong one?”
”Ah, there you've put your finger on a real difficulty. You just have to think it all over and decide as best you can, and then, if it turns out wrong, you're not so much to blame. Then, your suffering is of the kind that you can't help. No one can do any better than what he thinks is right at the time.... Now get up, dear, I hear people coming.”
”Well, thank you, Aunt Selina. What you have told me helps, an awful lot. Really!”
”I am glad, my dear,” replied Miss Wimbourne, and when people entered the room a second or two later no one suspected the sudden bond of sympathy that had sprung up between the specimens of crabbed age and youth they found there.
”Cecilia, what's going to become of those two boys?” inquired Miss Wimbourne later in the evening, finding herself for the moment alone with her sister-in-law.
”I've been asking myself that question pretty steadily for the last twelve hours,” answered Mrs. James. ”I wish _I_ could take them,” she added, impulsively.
”Hardly, I suppose.” If any of the remarks made in this conversation seem abrupt or inconsequent, it must be remembered that these two ladies understood each other pretty thoroughly without having to polish off or even finish their sentences, or even to make them consecutive.
”Unfortunately,” went on Mrs. James, after a brief pause, ”the whole thing depends entirely upon Hilary.”
”The very last person--”
”Exactly. Yet what can one do?”
”It seems quite clear to me,” said Aunt Selina, choosing her words carefully and slowly, ”that Hilary will inevitably choose the one course which is most to be avoided. Hilary will want them to go on living here alone with him; preserve the _status quo_ as far as possible. What do you think?”
”I am almost sure of it. But....”
”But if any of us have the slightest feeling for those boys ... Until they are both safely away at school, at any rate, and he won't send them away for a year or two yet, at any rate.”
”Harry not for three, I should say.... That is, _I_ shouldn't.”
Silence for a moment, then Aunt Selina:
”Well, can you think of any one that could be got to come here?”
Mrs. James fluttered for a moment, as though preparing for a delicate and difficult advance.
”I wonder,” she said, ”that is, the thought struck me to-day--if you--if _you_ could ever--”
”Hilary and I,” observed Aunt Selina in calm, clear impersonal tones that once for all disposed of the suggestion; ”Hilary and I Do Not Get On. That way, I mean. At a distance--”
The sentence was completed by a gesture that somehow managed to convey an impression of understanding and amity at a distance. Mrs. James'
subdued ”Oh!” of comprehension, or rather of resignation, bid fair for a while to close the interview. But presently Aunt Selina, with the air of one accepting a sword offered with hilt toward her, asked, or rather observed, as though it was not a question at all, but a statement:
”What do you think of Agatha Fraile?”
”Well,” replied Mrs. James with something of a burnt-child air; ”I like her. Though I hardly know her, of course. I should say she would be willing, too. Though of course one can't tell.... They are not well off, I believe.... She is very good, no doubt....”
”Hm,” said Aunt Selina serenely, aware that there was a conversational ditch to be taken, and determined to make her interlocutrix give her a lead. This Aunt Cecilia bravely did with:
”You mean--how much does she know about--?”
”About Hilary, yes.”