Luce.
âIn case he is not, it may be as well to avoid risk in future,â said Fulbert.
âYes, Father, I would not put it more strongly than that,â said Luce.
âI think I would,â said Eleanor.
âMother, do thaw,â said Luce. âYour sons are not a pair of criminals.â
âThey are penniless boys, who are doing no good to themselves.â
Regan looked at her grandsons almost with compunction, as if it were a natural ground for resentment, that other people should have more than they had.
âYes, I suppose that is an accepted handicap,â said Luce, in a musing tone. âTo be penniless. And yet I would not have people modify their actions too much because of it. I do not think I would.â
âThere is no harm in young menâs being well-behaved to an old one,â said Fulbert.
âNo, Father. But is it a fair accusation? What exactly is the boyâs misdeed? I mean essentially. Not at the moment.â
âThe fact of their existence,â said Fulbert. âThe sins of the fathers are visited upon the children.â
Luce gave a series of slow, little laughs, keeping her eyes from her mother.
âTheir grandfather wants what is best for them,â said Regan.
âGraham, Grandma has dropped her handkerchief,â said Luce, without a break in her tone, and hardly changing the direction of her eyes. âAre we to expect Grandpa to take the same attitude towards the other boys?â
âThe younger ones often remain the younger ones,â said Eleanor.
âThat sounds a cryptic remark, my dear,â said Fulbert, âbut I recognize the truth it contains.â
âAre not the schoolroom children coming down today?â said Luce.
âI have just sent word that they need not come,â said Eleanor. âMissing their grandfather would only lead to questions.â
âTheir yoke is easy and their burden light,â said Graham.
âMother, I will try again with Graham,â said Daniel. âIt cannot be that I shall always speak in vain.â
âIt is a fact that you do so at the moment, my boy,â said Fulbert, in mingled enjoyment and apprehension.
âMother dear, relax,â said Luce. âIt is not good for you to remain in that wrought-up state.â
âCome, come, my dear, things are not so bad,â said Fulbert.
âI cannot bear the ignorant quoting of sacred words.â
âWe see that you canât, and so the lads will remember it.â
âThat should not be their reason for avoiding it.â
âIt should be one of them. And they know the others.â
âFather, is Grandpa by himself?â said Luce.
âI daresay he is. Indeed he must be.â
âDonât you want to go to him, Father?â said Luce, looking at Fulbert with mild amusement.
âI have never heard that the sins of the children should bevisited upon the fathers. But I canât leave the old man to simmer on the hob, when he is in danger of boiling over.â
âGrandpa is not a kettle, Father,â said Luce, in a quiet tone.
Regan laughed, and Fulbert ran round the table and gave her a kiss, and then did the same to his wife and daughter, and seemed about to run from the room, but did not do so.
âI wonder if we shall realize that Grandpa is human, before â while we are all young about him,â said Luce.
âBefore he becomes more than human,â said Graham.
âYes, before that, boys,â said Luce, in an unflinching tone.
âIt will be wasted when Grandpa understands all,â said Graham.
Regan rose and rustled from the room in some personal preoccupation. Eleanor dropped her eyes and remained still. Fulbertâs eyes flashed with rallying apprehension round the table. The silence held until it reached the stage at which it is impossible to break.
âGraham, I do not remember that I forbade you to speak,â said