Men and Wives by Ivy Compton-Burnett Read Free Book Online Page A

you like Matthew or Buttermere to carve for you?” said Harriet.
    â€œNo, I shouldn’t like Matthew or Buttermere to carve for me. And neither would any of you like it. It has been tried before, hasn’t it? Matthew hacks the joint as if he were cutting a quarry in a cliff, and Buttermere gives little, lady’s slices that are cold before they are seen, whether it it is the kind of meat to be cut thin or not, and takes a time about it that would see us all into our graves. And I ama fine carver!” The speaker withdrew for a moment from his task, and continued with his mouth opening wide. “I can carve any kind of joint as a gentleman should carve it. And it isn’t everybody’s job, I can tell you.”
    â€œWell, well, my dear, get on,” said his wife.
    â€œGet on! I have finished,” said Godfrey grimly, laying down his implements and giving an adjusting touch to his own plate.
    â€œA result worthy of a life-work,” said Jermyn.
    â€œLife-work! Yes, well, that may be what it all is,” said his father. “Why, I was quite offended for a moment. I declare that I was. Well, how did you get on with your old ladies, Gregory?”
    â€œWe had a long talk,” said Gregory in a serious tone.
    â€œWhat did you talk about, darling?” said Harriet.
    â€œYes, that is what beats me,” said Godfrey, taking something from a handed dish. “It passes my understanding.”
    â€œWe talked about you,” said Gregory to his mother. “And about Spong and his wife. Agatha had just had her letter from him. She wrote her answer, and gave it to me to post. Kate was rather out of form in her talk to-day.”
    â€œAgatha! Kate!” said his father. “Well, I declare. Agatha, Kate! Do you call them that to their faces, may I ask?”
    â€œOnly Kate,” said Gregory. “But I think of the others by their Christian names. Kate is a good deal younger than you are, Father.”
    â€œWell, that may be,” said Godfrey. “But she put off her pinafore some time before you did.”
    â€œTwenty-six years,” said Gregory in a satisfied tone.
    â€œTwenty-six years!” said his father. “Agatha and Kate!”
    â€œWhat have you said in your letter to Spong?” said Gregory to Harriet. “It is so subtle to write things that have no meaning.”
    â€œThey were not without meaning to me, my dear. I said simply that my thoughts were with him in his trouble,as they were. There is no need to be subtle in saying the simple truth.”
    â€œAh, it is your mother you take after in your knack with a pen, Jermyn,” said Godfrey.
    â€œPoor Mother is hoist with her own petard indeed,” said Jermyn.
    â€œI have always known that, my son,” said Harriet. “There is nothing unnatural in your resembling one of your parents. I am only anxious that you should direct your talents towards a certain result.”
    â€œThe higher the thing, the less certain the result must be,” said Jermyn.
    â€œYes, there is something in that, Harriet,” said Godfrey, looking up with a serious face from peeling some fruit.
    â€œPerhaps you put your aims too high,” said Harriet. “The years may slip away with nothing done.”
    â€œâ€˜This high man, with a great thing to pursue,
Dies ere he knows it,’”
    quoted Gregory.
    â€œHe may die in simple ignorance that he has done nothing,” said Harriet.
    â€œAh, so he may,” said Godfrey, dropping his fruit and recovering it.
    â€œThere is something to be said for doing that,” said Griselda.
    â€œWe most of us do it,” said Jermyn, looking out of the window.
    â€œWell, Jermyn, and have you been out with your notebook to-day?” said his father, cordially proceeding with the subject.
    â€œNot to-day. I have been with Griselda to luncheon with the Hardistys. But Mellicent and I had a talk that bore on my