PART TWO DECEMBER 23RD
Tressilian went to answer the doorbell. It had been an unusually aggressive peal, and now, before
he could make his slow way across the hall, it pealed 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 a
slouch hat. He opened the door. As he had thought—a cheap, flashy stranger—nasty pattern of suit
he was wearing—loud! Some impudent 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 arrogant jaw, the high-bridged
nose, the rollicking eye. Yes, they had all been there three years ago. More subdued then. . . .
He said with a gasp
Mr. Harry
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—a
good solid mass of red brick, unimaginative but solid.
Just the same ugly old mansion,” he remarked. “Still standing, though, that’s the main thing.
How’s my father, Tressilian
He’s somewhat of an invalid, sir. Keeps his room, and can’t get about much. But he’s
wonderfully well, considering.
The old sinner
Harry Lee came inside, let Tressilian remove his scarf and take the somewhat theatrical 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 jolt, my turning up! Alfred and I
never 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 stiffened back expressed protest. Harry
clapped him on the shoulder.
Lead on, old son,” he said. “The fatted calf 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 he
went.
All the old exhibits in their place, I see,” he remarked. “I don’t believe anything has changed
since 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 was
seated on one of the windowsills. His eyes roamed incredulously over the black hair and the
creamy 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’s
brother.
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 six
wives
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 this
mausoleum.
This—maus—please
This museum of stuffed dummies! I always thought this house was lousy! Now I see it again
I 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 carpets
everywhere—and there are lots of ornaments. Everything is very good quality and very, very
rich
You’re right there,” said Harry, grinning. He looked at her with amusement. “You know, I
can’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 glance
and 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 frightful 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 girl
whose people came over with the Conqueror.
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? Scattered 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 give
a damn for sentiment. Don’t remember his caring much for his family, either. He must have
changed
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 a
halfpenny 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 stentorian laughter—it sounded uncontrolled and brutal in the confined space of
the room. Pilar drew in her breath with a gasp. Lydia flinched a little.
Then, at a movement behind him, Harry broke off his laugh and turned sharply. He had not
heard anyone coming in, but Alfred was standing there quietly. He was looking at Harry with an
odd 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 English
do 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 that
was habitual with him. It expressed belligerence.
Yes,” he said. “I’m glad I have come”—he paused to bring out the word with greater
significance—“home. . . .
