Howards End - E. M. Forster [39]
"Has it, sir?"
"Yes," said Charles, getting rather red; "and whoever's driven it hasn't cleaned it properly, for there's mud on the axle. Take it off."
The man went for the cloths without a word. He was a chauffeur as ugly as sin – not that this did him disservice with Charles, who thought charm in a man rather rot, and had soon got rid of the little Italian beast with whom they had started.
"Charles – " His bride was tripping after him over the hoar-frost, a dainty black column, her little face and elaborate mourning hat forming the capital thereof.
"One minute, I'm busy. Well, Crane, who's been driving it, do you suppose?"
"Don't know, I'm sure, sir. No one's driven it since I've been back, but, of course, there's the fortnight I've been away with the other car in Yorkshire."
The mud came off easily.
"Charles, your father's down. Something's happened. He wants you in the house at once. Oh, Charles!"
"Wait, dear, wait a minute. Who had the key to the garage while you were away, Crane?"
"The gardener, sir."
"Do you mean to tell me that old Penny can drive a motor?"
"No, sir; no one's had the motor out, sir."
"Then how do you account for the mud on the axle?"
"I can't, of course, say for the time I've been in Yorkshire. No more mud now, sir."
Charles was vexed. The man was treating him as a fool, and if his heart had not been so heavy he would have reported him to his father. But it was not a morning for complaints. Ordering the motor to be round after lunch, he joined his wife, who had all the while been pouring out some incoherent story about a letter and a Miss Schlegel.
"Now, Dolly, I can attend to you. Miss Schlegel? What does she want?"
When people wrote a letter Charles always asked what they wanted. Want was to him the only cause of action. And the question in this case was correct, for his wife replied, "She wants Howards End."
"Howards End? Now, Crane, just don't forget to put on the Stepney wheel."
"No, sir."
"Now, mind you don't forget, for I – Come, little woman." When they were out of the chauffeur's sight he put his arm around her waist and pressed her against him. All his affection and half his attention – it was what he granted her throughout their happy married life.
"But you haven't listened, Charles – "
"What's wrong?"
"I keep on telling you – Howards End. Miss Schlegels got it."
"Got what?" asked Charles, unclasping her. "What the dickens are you talking about?"
"Now, Charles, you promised not to say those naughty – "
"Look here, I'm in no mood for foolery. It's no morning for it either."
"I tell you – I keep on telling you – Miss Schlegel – she's got it – your mother's left it to her – and you've all got to move out!"
"HOWARDS END?"
"HOWARDS END!" she screamed, mimicking him, and as she did so Evie came dashing out of the shrubbery.
"Dolly, go back at once! My father's much annoyed with you. Charles" – she hit herself wildly – "come in at once to Father. He's had a letter that's too awful."
Charles began to run, but checked himself, and stepped heavily across the gravel path. There the house was – the nine windows, the unprolific vine. He exclaimed, "Schlegels again!" and as if to complete chaos, Dolly said, "Oh no, the matron of the nursing home has written instead of her."
"Come in, all three of you!" cried his father, no longer inert. "Dolly, why have you disobeyed me?"
"Oh, Mr. Wilcox – "
"I told you not to go out to the garage. I've heard you all shouting in the garden. I won't have it. Come in."
He stood in the porch, transformed, letters in his hand.
"Into the dining-room, every one of you. We can't discuss private matters in the middle of all the servants. Here, Charles, here; read these. See what you make."
Charles took two letters, and read them as he followed the procession. The first was a covering note from the matron. Mrs. Wilcox had desired her, when the funeral should be over, to forward the enclosed. The enclosed – it was from his mother herself. She had written: "To my husband: I should like Miss Schlegel (Margaret) to have Howards End."
"I suppose we're going to have a talk about this?" he remarked, ominously calm.