“Well, Jonathan,” said Josephine, entering her brother’s study, “it is a new experience to me to be despatched on errands; but I am too much against becoming set in any one character, to be disturbed by it. The truth is, though I would not say it to anyone; the truth is, Jonathan, that I have got over Simon’s death, and find myself anchorless and rudderless. Well, we must not be restive under the hand of time. It may have further changes for the future.”
“For those of us who have a future,” said Jonathan, who was rummaging in his desk in a purposeless manner. “I am glad you are over your trouble; I would not ask to get over mine. My miss of Felix will be my life.”
“You are busy very early,” said Josephine, looking at her brother, who seemed to be restless and uncontrolled.
“Yes, you find me preparing for my last journey. Naked we come into the world; naked we go out of it. I am not planning to go with more than I came. I do not feel I can carry my treasures in my hands; I have not quite so much in me of the ordinary man. I am preparing for my last two flittings at the same time. It is the last thing I have to do for my friend.”
“You have not come to the end of things with the end of one chapter. We must not set ourselves against the advance of our lives.”205
“That has to stop some time, or go in the wrong direction. I have no part in the future. You have come to talk of what has nothing to do with your brother.”
“I have come with a message from Gabriel. He insists on giving up that allowance. You know he found out it came from you. It has been generous of you, Jonathan; I have never known how you spared it; and you cannot spare it in the future. He is right to save you the move in the matter. Shall I tell him that you make a virtue of necessity?”
Jonathan stared at his sister, with his hands still, and suddenly threw himself back in a fit of laughter.
“My dear Josephine, I never gave Gabriel an allowance! I give people nothing. I only take from them. I thought you knew that.”
“Why did you say you did, then?” said Josephine in a bewildered tone.
“I did not say so. He insisted on it. The poor boy wanted to have something from his father; and I wanted, wretched old man, that he should have it. I have not been able to give much to him; it seemed I could give him this; and what was the meaning of it from no one, the good of it from nowhere? The giver would never have made herself known, made himself known—he, she, it—what a silly thing secrets are! They make us solve them somehow. Well, I gave my solution of this.” Jonathan went into further laughter, this time it seemed as a cover for his feelings.
“It was an extraordinary thing to do.”
“Why was it extraordinary? It served a purpose for two people.”
“Did you mean it for a sort of joke?”
“No, it was not a joke; it was a temptation. Why was it a joke to give my son an illusion, that his father had done something for him, one little thing in all his life? You don’t understand the pathos of never being able to give.”206
“Well, what are we to do now? You know who the giver is? It is a woman, did you say?”
“No, I did not; I say nothing,” almost shouted her brother. “I do not speak the truth, so of what use to tell you? Of what use to speak at all? You would not be any wiser. When I told Gabriel, he was not any wiser, was he?”
“I am afraid he was not. But what are we to tell him now? He must know that the money does not come from you, as he insists on returning it.”
“You would not like me to have it, as it comes in?” said Jonathan, with an openly crafty expression. “To tell him to send it back to me? Was it fair to take me by surprise? To behave as if you did not know me?”
“Come, pull yourself together. Tell me what you wish me to say.”
“Oh, say that the money comes from you. Say that I began to give it and stopped, and that you continued it. That sounds true to life and character. Or say that you always gave it, and did not like to seem to give so much. That saves my face, and ends my concern with the matter.”
“We must say something. We can hardly admit either the truth or the mystery. Gabriel might talk about it to Felix and his other friends.”
“Well, say that then. Have the credit for yourself, and understand how I felt in trying to get it.”
“It is a funny person I have for a brother, to be sure. What are you doing, making that mess and muddle? Are you stirring up your papers or sorting them?”
“Stirring them up, stirring them up!” cried Jonathan, sweeping the pile together, and causing some to flutter to the ground. “Stirring them up for the bonfire! The past may have what is its own. Let my dead things go before me.”207
“You are not in a mood to make a decision. So we may as well give your account for the moment,” said Josephine, picking up a paper and toying with it, her eyes down. “One story is as good as another, when neither can be true. This is a familiar writing, Miss Rosetti’s, from a long time ago. A hand does not change any more than a face; or it changes like a face, becomes older and remains the same. Gabriel will have no need to speak of this, Jonathan. I will explain our joint thought of him, and he will be grateful.”
“I shall have his gratitude after all, shall I? We shall both have it, you more out of proportion than I.” Jonathan spoke in a harsh manner, glancing at the paper.
“Miss Rosetti might have been my partner by now,” continued Josephine in the same conversational tone; “but she had some reason against it; some question of money, I suppose. I may offer to give her a partnership; why should we go through life doing nothing for our friends? This note has no beginning or end.” Jonathan moved his hand towards it, but withdrew it and gazed at the ground. “The writing is clearer than her writing now. The words stand out apart. ‘Gabriel is safe for life, and I will no longer see him as mine. That is best for all of us. This is my very last word. Maria’—Maria! Maria Rosetti! What is this Jonathan? Had Miss Rosetti anything to do with Gabriel when he was young? Did she know him then? Tell me it all.”
“Of course she knew him then. She is my old friend, as you know. She had some thoughts of adopting him, and changed her mind.”
“Did she ever adopt him? This sounds as if he had belonged to her. Tell me the truth.” Jonathan was sitting with his shoulders hunched, his eyes looking straight before him, his body still. “He was only a few months old when I took him; and she came to me soon afterwards. Is this what it seems to be?”208
“I know nothing; I say nothing. As you know my words mean nothing, why ask me?” Jonathan plunged his hands about on his desk, drumming his feet on the ground.
“Your wife never existed?”
“You have never believed she did exist. To pose as knowing less than you do, is not the way to get to know everything.”
“You pretended to be a widower for Gabriel’s sake?”
“And for my own sake, and your sake, and the sake of your girls’ school. You did not want me to do anything else, did you? If you had an alternative, why did you not offer it?”
“I see you could do nothing else,” said Josephine, in a quiet, charged tone. “But you could do something else than put Maria Rosetti into my house; to watch me in my life with Gabriel; to spy on my dealings with him; to satisfy herself that he was safe; while I, your sister, went on my way, unwarned, watched, in danger. You could have done something other than this, Jonathan.”
“No, I could not, to serve my double-purpose. It was the only thing that could serve it. Why should I not put them both in your house for you to look after?” Jonathan laughed and drew with a pencil on his desk. “You have served yourself and Gabriel and her and me. Surely it was a good thing that you should serve us? And if you had made her your partner, it would have been a good finish up. It is a pity that you did not see your way to it, before her position changed, before she changed her mind.”
“Oh, that is it!” cried Josephine. “I see it all. Miss Rosetti gave the money to Gabriel! She saw the chance at long last of doing something for his future. And I think it was time. If you want a finish up, this does very well.”
“I am glad it satisfies you; I should have preferred the other myself. It would have been better for her, and through her better for me; and Gabriel would have got as much from you in the 209end.” Jonathan’s voice fell away again into laughter. “Well, you know all my story now. I can be at ease in your house. If I want a word with Maria, I shan’t have to hide it.” He moved his fingers as though he were playing the piano, and moved his lips as if in song.
“Tell me about your earlier life with her.”
“No, I will not,” said Jonathan, shutting his lips. “When have you asked me about my life with Gabriel’s mother? I was a widower to you, wasn’t I? It is not worth while to change my habits now. I will prepare myself for the long silence.”
“Why did you not marry her? I suppose Gabriel is really your son?”
“Oh, know it all, know it all,” said Jonathan, banging down his hands. “Gabriel is Maria’s son and mine. She did not want to marry me. She wanted to support herself; and I did not want to support her. I put her in your school to work for herself, and as you have said—it seemed to me a natural thing—to watch over her son. She has not watched over him. She saw he was safe, as you say, or she saw nothing. If she did not look, she would not see. I don’t know why she came to his help over his marriage. When I asked her for money, she did not often give it to me.”
“She has lived in my house, as Gabriel’s mother, deceiving me, letting me give her my trust, treat her as my friend—”
“She has never lived in your house as Gabriel’s mother. You have never treated her as a friend. She has worked in your school and earned your trust.”
“I must see her,” said Josephine, drawing herself up. “I must tell her simply, that there are some things on which I cannot turn my eyes.”
“Yes, tell her that simply. Turn her out and keep her son. I don’t mind what you do. She has not cared for Gabriel; we have agreed 210never to speak of him; I could not bear her words of my son. She can have my money to live on, and I will live on you; I don’t mind living on a woman.” Jonathan moved his hands and feet together, adding the pedals to his performance.
“What are we to say about the allowance? Gabriel can never know the truth.”
“Keep to the account we settled on. Take something else from his mother.”
“I have borne that from her, which no woman should bear from another,” said Josephine, in slow, recitative tones. “I do not speak of her having a child; I would not speak of her in that matter, except as another woman should speak.” Jonathan raised his eyes, with a movement of snapping his fingers. “I have my own understanding. I could sympathise with her there.”
“Well, sympathise then; because I could not; she has repelled my sympathy all along the line. Well, who comes here?” Jonathan turned to the door with his pipe set jauntily between his teeth. “So, Felix, it has come on me at last! It has come out at the end. We need never think to escape the end, of life or anything else. This is an end indeed.” He made a motion towards the paper, and Felix took it up and turned to Josephine.
“You have had an experience that comes to very few,” he said.
“Yes—yes, I have. I have to do my best with it. It is a revelation to me, something new. Well, I must try to do my best.” Josephine suddenly spoke to her brother.
“So Felix has always known the truth?”
“Of course he has known. We could not have lived on the terms we have, with our tongues tied on our memories,” said Jonathan, with simple testiness. “He has not known what we were talking of before, what you know now.” His voice grew loud and hard. 211“I mean about the boy’s money! But he may know. Another thing between us won’t make much difference.”
Josephine laid her hand on her brother’s shoulder.
“He will not want to know. He will leave it between the brother and sister. He knows that that relation goes back to the beginning; that it is the longest, if not the deepest. He will leave its own silences.” She paused and turned to Felix with an uncertain smile. “I find myself in a difficult position, in a hard place. I cannot at the moment see my way.”
“I could see mine in your position, the position of knowing something against someone who knew nothing against me. I should enjoy showing a quiet freedom from superiority. That has no point when you are really free from it. I have a great respect for you.”
“I must do my best. It is a real experience. I must remember that it is real for someone else. Yes, there must have been much reality. There may be temptations to which I would not yield. I trust I shall not betray any littleness, any inclination to the use of power.”
“I trust not: it would kill my respect.”
“Well, my brother, I will leave you for to-day. The times of our separations will soon be of the past.”
“Until the long separation,” said Jonathan in a deep tone, giving his sister his hand without raising his eyes.
“Until death do you part,” said Felix. “Those words remind me of something to do with myself. May I come and see you later in the day, Mrs. Napier? People are so much easier to deal with, when their own lives are disturbed. We have to watch for the time and take advantage of it.”
Josephine stood as if arrested for a moment, and then rather blindly gave him her hand and left the house.212
“Your influence over my sister is good, Felix,” said Jonathan, speaking on the instant.
“But it does not seem to have had much effect on you. What is this about Gabriel’s money? I don’t claim not to be curious: I beg you to tell me.”
“Maria gives it,” said Jonathan in a nonchalant tone, his lips twitching. “I knew I was safe. If she had heard that it came from me, she would not have betrayed me, or been surprised. But it is a good thing that you are leaving me, Felix; you want a fitter companion.”
“We all come round to my father’s views in the end. What will Gabriel say when he knows?”
“He is to think that Josephine gives it; that I came to her rescue over her giving too much,” said Jonathan, his smile broadening. “We can make quite a useful world out of our imagination. I don’t know why falsehood does not do as well as truth.”
“It often does better; that is why it is used instead.” Felix broke off, and the two friends went into laughter. “I always wondered how you got the money. I like to think I have been the intimate of a bad man.”
“Well, you have a future of innocence before you. It is not for me to disparage any kind of future; I have none.”
“I wonder if I can be innocent without becoming ordinary. I see you think it is impossible.”
“You are bound to become more ordinary. Your father wins in the end. I must not grudge him his victory.”
“Indeed you must. I do want to feel that I leave empty hearts behind.”
“Well, we will make the most of our last days. I will not cloud your looking forward with my looking back.”
“How do you know I have been looking forward? I thought I had concealed it.”213
Felix locked his arm in Jonathan’s and danced across the room. The old man fell out in a moment, stiff and breathless.
“Ah, there is a parable! I have gone far enough at your side. I can go no further.”