A God and His Gifts by Ivy Compton-Burnett Read Free Book Online Page B

carries, for the harm it does.”
    â€œPlay game,” said Reuben, as if matters had left their course.
    â€œYes, let us blow the cobwebs away,” said Sir Michael.
    â€œCobwebs are light things,” said Salomon, as though the word was not in place.
    â€œAnd some things are not,” said Ada. “Out of the mouth of babes! What would my sons say, if it was twenty years hence?”
    â€œI know what to say now,” said Salomon. “Father ought to love you, and not Aunt Emmeline.”
    â€œAnd I do love her,” said Hereward. “And I love Aunt Emmeline too. And I love you and your brothers, and your aunt and your grandparents and others. So many people are dear to me, that I don’t always judge between them.”
    â€œI think you will have to now. Mothers can’t be quite the same. And you did judge in a way.”
    â€œDo you want to join in the game?” said Sir Michael, as if recognising evidence to the contrary.
    â€œI would rather read. The game isn’t a real one. It is only meant to hide something.”
    â€œOh, we are all younger than he is,” said Hereward. “Come, my three generations. We will leave our elder to himself.”
    â€œI want to hold Salomon’s hand,” said Reuben.
    Salomon put down his book and went to his side.
    â€œâ€˜Here we come gathering nuts in May, nuts
in May, nuts in May.
    Here we come gathering nuts in May, on a
cold and frosty morning’.”
    Sir Michael rendered the words with abandon, and paused for Alfred to take him up on the other side.
    â€œWhom will you have for your nuts in May?”
    â€œWe will have Ada for nuts in May—”
    â€œWhom will you send to fetch her away—?”
    â€œWe will send Hereward to fetch her away,
on a cold and frosty morning.”
    Hereward and Ada came into the centre to engage in the contest. Hereward was the victor and drew his wife to his own side. She fell against him and broke into tears, and her second son observed them and was disposed to add his own.
    Her eldest gave them a glance.
    â€œI knew it was not a game. It was the opposite of one.”
    â€œWell was it a success?” said Alfred. “I am not a judge.”
    â€œIt was a success, Father,” said Ada. “It has done its work. It has shown us things as they have to be, as we must see they are. We will leave it there.”
    â€œWe will,” said a quiet voice, as Penelope moved forward. “I think this scene is at an end. To continue it would avail us nothing. Emmeline will go home with her father, and will not come again. If the sisters say goodbye here and now, it will be said.”
    Emmeline suffered Ada’s long embrace and Hereward’s openly affectionate one, made little response to either, and followed her aunt.
    â€œPlay game,” said Reuben, in a tone without much hope.
    â€œNo, a tale,” said Merton. “Father always knows a new one.”
    â€œNot a new one,” said Reuben, with a wail.
    â€œI can tell you an old one,” said Salomon. “Father can tell us one out of his head.”
    Hereward gathered his sons about him, taking Reuben on his knee, and threw himself into a narration that held them still and silent, and moved them to many human emotions, indeed to most of them.
    â€œAgain,” said Merton, when it ended, keeping his eyes on his father’s face.
    â€œNo, that should be enough, sir,” said a voice from the door, where the nurse had stood with a dubious expression. “They will take some time to forget it.”
    â€œIs it only worthy of oblivion?”
    â€œWell, that is really the best thing, sir,” said Nurse in a candid tone. “It might prey on their minds.”
    â€œAgain,” said Merton, moving his feet rapidly.
    â€œNo, come and tell it to me,” said Nurse. “I have only heard part of it.”
    â€œYes,” said Merton after a pause, a smile creeping