them.â
âVery morbid,â murmured Bernard.
Benjamin had lately retired from a government office, which had required his daily presence, and had moved nearer to his sisters, who desired his support. His sons had adopted the same occupation, a fact which caused Esmond to suffer, and Benjamin to smile to himself, and sometimes to suffer also, as he recalled his sonsâ earlier hopes. Bernard worked with ambition and success, and Esmond in contempt for a task beneath him, and resentment that a conviction of ability did not command a price. The brothers lived together in rooms in London, always wishing that they were apart, but held from the change by Bernardâs lack of initiative, and Esmondâs leaning to the cheaper course. They took their holidays in brief and frequent spells, in order not to break their life at home. Esmondâs dislike of this life was extreme, and his fatherâs dislike of his part in it appeared to be on the same scale; but he did not dare to break away, and Benjamin contrived without word or look that he should not dare. It seemed that Benjamin must prefer his presence, and he had a feeling, both conventional and natural, for having his family about him.
âIt may not be all giving on our side,â said Claribel.âWe shall impose our own wills without knowing it. No one with any force of character avoids that.â
âIt would not do to go through life alone,â said Jenney, mentioning the disadvantage that struck her as the worst.
âI suppose we all do that,â said Reuben.
âOh, in that sense,â said Esmond, irritably. âThat does not need saying.â
âBut I was proud to say it,â said his brother.
âYou have a nice room on this floor, Reuben, underneath mine,â said Jenney.
A relief spread over Reubenâs face.
âCome upstairs and see the house,â said Bernard, rising and offering his arm.
The brothers mounted the staircase, Bernard giving his support without seeming to know that he did so. Reuben no longer needed it, but would not repudiate his brotherâs thought, or the effort of rising from his chair, which he did not underestimate; and found that the longer he followed this line, the more bound he was to it. Jenney welcomed protection for him, feeling simply that he was a creature dependent on it; Benjamin saw the matter as it was; Anna saw its surface; and Esmond was not concerned with it.
âIt is a good thing those two are such good friends,â said Anna. âIt would make a problem, if Bernard were sensitive about Reuben, or anything like that.â
Jenneyâs face showed her view of this idea, and Benjaminâs betrayed that his was the same. His reaction and Jenneyâs often resembled each other.
âI donât think we feel embarrassed by people belonging to ourselves,â said Claribel. âOur relations form the natural background for the creatures that we are.â
âAre you going to the other house to-morrow, Father?â said Anna, making no pretence of attending.
âTo-night, my daughter. Your aunt will be expecting me. She must not do so in vain.â
Benjaminâs voice accorded with his words. His feeling for his sisters was the strongest in his life, rooted in itsbackground and beginning. Their qualities appeared to him essential and natural; their troubles roused his pity, and helplessness in them found him a protector; their ease with him appealed to him more than any other experience. They did not know the man who was known to his children.
âThere will be trouble and expense for us there,â said Anna.
âWhy should there be expense?â said Benjamin. âYour aunts have their own incomes.â
âWe can hardly breathe without paying for it,â said Esmond. âWe cannot so much as eat and drink like the beasts of the field.â
âThey have few other advantages,â said his father. âYou