Mother and Son by Ivy Compton-Burnett Read Free Book Online

yourself the trouble,” said Miss Greatheart, in a tone that vibrated with concern. “And then sit down and help yourself. There is no need for you to have your breakfast cold, because I am so careless of such things. I believe I could live on a desert island and eat grain and be content.”
    Miss Burke, who did not share the belief, and might not have cooked the breakfast if she had, rang the bell and came to the table, and Miss Greatheart followed her.
    â€œWell, Plautus,” she said, “so you are full of wisdom. Full of great thoughts on everything. You would not deign to say good-morning to us. We are beneath your notice.”
    Plautus walked smoothly to the fire and sat down and regarded it.
    â€œNo, he will not say good-morning to us, Hester,” said Miss Greatheart, as her friend appeared. “He will sit and enjoy his reflections and ignore you and me.”
    Plautus turned his attention to a feather that stirred on the floor.
    â€œHe is a beautiful cat,” said Miss Burke, willing to take her part.
    â€œSo you do not care for cats, dear,” said Miss Greatheart, turning to her in swift understanding.
    â€œI like to look at them,” said Miss Burke, uncertain what her words might imply.
    â€œOh, Plautus, what does she say?” said Miss Wolsey.
    â€œI said I liked to look at him,” said Miss Burke, not meeting her eyes.
    â€œWell, how could you not? Surely that goes without saying.”
    Miss Burke was silent, as silence could serve to this extent.
    â€œSo she forgets your wisdom and wit, Plautus,” said Miss Greatheart, leaning towards the latter without gaining his eye.
    â€œI do not see how a cat can have wit,” said Miss Burke, who was accustomed to hold her own, and found it the best policy.
    â€œOh, he has made several bright remarks to me this morning,” said Miss Wolsey. “He came into my room in quite a facetious spirit. I could hardly keep up with him.”
    â€œFavouritism!” said Miss Greatheart, shaking her head. “He did not come into mine. He has given no proof that he recognises me this morning.”
    â€œWhy do you call him ‘Plautus’?” said Miss Burke, encouraged by this simple statement of truth.
    â€œOh, because he
is
Plautus,” said Miss Wolsey. “Because the essence of Plautus is in him. How could he be called anything else?”
    â€œWho was Plautus in real life?”
    â€œWho could he have been but the person to give this Plautus his name?”
    â€œHe was a Latin writer,” said Miss Greatheart, as Miss Burke left a second question unanswered. “I think he wrote plays; not very good ones.”
    â€œWhy did you call the cat after him?”
    â€œWell, he has not written any good plays either,” said Miss Wolsey, holding out her hand to Plautus, who came and considered it, as if in the hope of some offering.
    â€œYou think we are a silly trio, don’t you dear?” said Miss Greatheart.
    Miss Burke took a moment to determine the third member of the group.
    â€œYou would not expect me to call Plautus silly?”
    â€œWell, I think you have led us to expect it. Howyou despise us all, and how we shall admire you for it! We look up to people who look down on us. It is hard to see how we could avoid it, though I think Plautus does.”
    Emma Greatheart gave the impression that everything about her was moulded on a generous scale, and that she did not dispute it or wish it otherwise. Her large, curved frame, full, grey eyes, lofty, aquiline features and undisguised marks of sixty years contributed to the effect, and her flowing garments accorded with the air of amplitude. Her large, fine hands looked as if they might be capable, if their owner willed it, but as if she did not do so.
    Hester Wolsey was eleven years younger and looked spare beside her, though above the average size. She had dark, solid features and a general aspect of handsomeness that