A Dance To The Music Of Time Part 17

'I was once able to do Geoffrey Sleaford a good turn in South Africa,' said the General. 'He was A.D.C. to the Divisional Commander, and a more bone-headed fellow I never came across. Sleaford-or Fines, as he was then-had landed in a mess over some mislaid papers. I got him out of it. He is a stupid fellow, but always grateful. Made a point of trying out our poodle dogs at his shoots. Then Bertha knew Alice Sleaford as a girl. Went to the same dancing cla.s.s. Bertha never much cared for her. Still, they get on all right now. Long and the short of it is that we stop at Dogdene from time to time. Uncomfortable place nowadays. Those parterres are very fine, of course. Alice Sleaford takes an interest in the garden. Wonderful fruit in the hot-houses. Then there is the Veronese. Geoffrey Sleaford has been advised to have it cleaned, but won't hear of it. Young fellow called Smethyck told him. Smethyck saw our Van Troost and said it was certainly genuine. Nice things at Dogdene, some of them, but I could name half a dozen houses in England I'd rather stop at.'

None of this seemed to be getting us much further so far as Widmerpool was concerned. I waited for development. General Conyers did not intend to be hurried. I suspected that he might regard this narrative he was unfolding in so leisurely a manner as the last good story of his life; one that he did not propose to squander in the telling. That was reasonable enough.

'I was not best pleased,' he said, 'when Bertha told me we had been asked to Dogdene at the same time as Mildred and her young man. I know the Sleafords don't have many people to stop. All the same it would have been quite easy to have invited some of their veterans. Even had us there by ourselves. Just like Alice Sleaford to arrange something like that. Hasn't much tact. All the same, I thought it would be a chance to get to know something about Widmerpool. After all, he was going to be my brother-in-law. Got to put up with your relations. Far better know the form from the beginning.'

'I've been seeing Widmerpool on and off for ages,' I said, hoping to encourage the General's flow of comment. 'I really know him quite well.'

'You do?'

'Yes.'

'Now, look here,' he said. 'Have you ever noticed at all how Widmerpool gets on with women?'

'He never seemed to find them at all easy to deal with. I was surprised that he should be prepared to take on someone like Mrs. Hayc.o.c.k.'

We had plunged into an intimacy of discussion that I had never supposed possible with an older man of the General's sort.

'You were?'

'Yes.'

'So was I,' he said. 'So was I. Very surprised. And I did not take long to see that they were getting on each other's nerves when they arrived at Dogdene. She was being very crisp with him. Very crisp. Nothing much in that, of course. Engaged couples bound to have their differences. Now I know Mildred pretty well by this time, and, although I did not much take to Widmerpool when I first met him, I thought she might do worse at her age. What?'

'So I should imagine.'

'Not every man would want to take her on. Couple of step-children into the bargain.'

'No.'

'All the same Widmerpool seemed to me rather a trying fellow. Half the time he was being obsequious, behaving as if he was applying for the job as footman, the other half, he was telling Geoffrey Sleaford and myself how to run our own affairs. It was then I began to mark down his psychological type. I had brought the book with me.'

'How did he get on with Lord Sleaford?'

'Pretty well,' said the General. 'Pretty well. Better than you might think. You know, Widmerpool talks sense about business matters. No doubt of it. Made some suggestions about developing the home farm at Dogdene which were quite shrewd. It was with Mildred there was some awkwardness. Mildred is not a woman to hang about with. If he wanted to marry her, he ought to have got down to matters and have done it. No good delaying in things of that sort.'

'He has been having jaundice.'

'I knew he'd been ill. He made several references to the fact. Seemed rather too fond of talking about his health. Another sign of his type. Anyway, his illness was beside the point. The fact was, Mildred did not think he was paying her enough attention. That was plain as a pikestaff. Mildred is a woman who expects a good deal of fuss to be made over her. I could see he was in for trouble,'

'What form did it take?'

'First of all, as I told you, she was a bit short with him. Then she fairly told him off to his face. That was on Sat.u.r.day afternoon. Thought there was going to be a real row between them. Alice Sleaford never noticed a thing. In the evening they seemed to have made it up. In fact, after dinner, they were more like an engaged couple than I'd ever seen 'em. Now, look here, where would you put his type? Psychologically, I mean.'

'Rather hard to say in a word-I know him so well-'

'It seems to me,' said the General, 'that he is a typical intuitive extrovert-cla.s.sical case, almost. Cold-blooded. Keen on a thing for a moment, but never satisfied. Wants to get on to something else. Don't really know about these things, but Widmerpool seems to fit into the cla.s.sification. That's the category in which I'd place him, just as if a recruit turns up with a good knowledge of carpentry and you draft him into the Sappers. You are going to say you are a hard-bitten Freudian, and won't hear of Jung and his ideas. Very well, I'll open another field of fire.'

'But-'

'You haven't heard the rest of the story yet. I came down to breakfast early on Sunday morning. I thought I'd have a stroll in the garden, and have another look at those hothouses. What do you think I found? Widmerpool in the hall, making preparations to leave the house. Some story about a telephone call, and being summoned back to London. Fellow looked like death. Shaking like a jelly and the colour of wax. Told me he'd slept very badly. Hardly closed his eyes. I'm quite prepared to believe that. Alice Sleaford won't use the best bedrooms for some reason. Never know where you are going to be put.'

'And did he go back to London?'

'Drove off, there and then, under my eyes. Whole house had been turned upside down to get him away at that hour on Sunday morning. Left a message for the host and hostess to say how sorry he was, neither of them having come down yet. Never saw a man more disgruntled than the Sleafords' chauffeur.'

'But what had happened? Had there really been a telephone call? I don't understand.'

'There had been some telephoning that morning, but the butler said it had been Widmerpool putting the call through. Only heard the true story that afternoon from Mildred when we were walking together in the Dutch garden. She didn't make any bones about it. Widmerpool had been in her room the night before. Things hadn't gone at all well. Made up her mind he wasn't going to be any use as a husband. Mildred can be pretty outspoken when she is cross.'

The General said these things in a manner entirely free from any of those implied comments which might be thought inseparable from such a chronicle of events. That is to say he was neither shocked, facetious, nor caustic. It was evident that the situation interested, rather than surprised him. He was complete master of himself in allowing no trace of ribaldry or ill nature to colour his narrative. For my own part, I felt a twinge of compa.s.sion for Widmerpool in his disaster, even though I was unable to rise to the General's heights of scientific detachment. I had known Widmerpool too long.

'Mildred told me in so many words. Doesn't care what she says, Mildred. That's what young people are like nowadays. Of course, I don't expect Mildred appears young to you, but I always think of her as a young woman.'

I did not know what comment to make. However, General Conyers did not require comment. He wished to elaborate his own conception of what had happened.

'Widmerpool's trouble is not as uncommon as you might think,' he said. 'I've known several cases. Last fellows in the world you'd suppose. I don't expect the name Peploe-Gordon means anything to you?'

'No.'

'Dead now. Had a heart attack in the Lebanon. I remember it happened in the same week Queen Draga was murdered in Belgrade. At Sandhurst with me. Splendid rider. First-cla.s.s shot. Led an expedition into Tibet. Married one of the prettiest girls I've ever seen. Used to see her out with the Quorn. He had the same trouble. Marriage annulled. Wife married again and had a string of children. This is the point I want to make. I saw Peploe-Gordon about eighteen months later at the yearling sales at Newmarket with another d.a.m.ned pretty girl on his arm. Do you know, he looked as pleased as Punch. Didn't give a d.a.m.n. Still, you don't know what neuroses weren't at work under the surface. That is what you have got to remember. Looking back in the light of what I have been reading, I can see the fellow had a touch of exaggerated narcissism. Is that Widmerpool's trouble?'

'It wouldn't surprise me. As I said before, I've only dipped into these things.'

'I don't set up as an expert myself. Last thing in the world I'd pretend to do. But look here, something I want to ask-do you know anything of Widmerpool's mother?'

'I've met her.'

'What is she like?'

I felt as usual some difficulty in answering directly the General's enquiry, put in his most pragmatical manner.

'Rather a trying woman, I thought.'

'Domineering?'

'In her way.'

'Father?'

'Dead.'

'What did he do?'

'Manufactured artificial manure, I believe.'

'Did he ...' said the General. 'Did he ...'

There was a pause while he thought over this information. It was undeniable that he had been setting the pace. I felt that I must look to my psycho-a.n.a.lytical laurels, if I was not to be left far behind.

'Do you think it was fear of castration?' I asked.

The General shook his head slowly.

'Possibly, possibly,' he said. 'Got to be cautious about that. You see this is how I should approach the business, with the greatest humility-with the greatest humility. Widmerpool strikes me as giving himself away all the time by his-well, to quote the text-book-purely objective orientation. If you are familiar with tactics, you know you can be up against just that sort of fellow in a battle. Always trying to get a move on, and bring off something definite. Quite right too, in a battle. But in ordinary life a fellow like that may be doing himself no good so far as his own subjective emotions are concerned. No good at all. Quite the reverse. Always leads to trouble. No use denying subjective emotions. Just as well to face the fact. All of us got a lot of egoism and infantilism to work off. I'd be the last to deny it. I can see now that was some of Peploe-Gordon's trouble, when I look back.'

'I'm sure Widmerpool thought a lot about this particular matter. Indeed, I know he did. He spoke to me about it quite soon after he became engaged to Mrs. Hayc.o.c.k.'

'Probably thought about it a great deal too much. Doesn't do to think about anything like that too much. Need a bit of relaxation from time to time. Everlastingly talks about his work too. Hasn't he any hobbies?'

'He used to knock golf b.a.l.l.s into a net at Barnes. But he told me he had given that up.'

'Pity, pity. Not surprised, though,' said the General, 'Nothing disturbs feeling so much as thinking. I'm only repeating what the book says, but I didn't spend thirty odd years in the army without discovering that for myself. Got to have a plan, of course, but no use knotting yourself up in it too tight. Must have an instinct about the man on the other side-and the people on your own side too. What was it Foch said? War not an exact science, but a terrible and pa.s.sionate drama? Something like that. Fact is, marriage is rather like that too.'

'But surely that was what Widmerpool was trying to make it? To some extent he seems to have succeeded. What happened sounded terrible and dramatic enough in its own way.'

'I'll have to think about that,' said the General. 'I see what you mean. I'll have to think about that.'

All the same, although I had raised this objection, I agreed with what he said. Marriage was a subject upon which it was hard to obtain accurate information. Its secrets, naturally, are those most jealously guarded; never more deeply concealed than when apparently most profusely exhibited in public. However true that might be, one could still be sure that even those marriages which seem outwardly dull enough are, at one time or another, full of the characteristics of which he spoke. Was it possible to guess, for example, what lay behind the curtain of his own experience? As I had never before conceived of exchanging such a conversation with General Conyers, I thought this an opportunity to enquire about a matter that had always played some part in my imagination since mentioned years earlier by Uncle Giles. The moment particularly recommended itself, because the General rarely spoke either of the practice or theory of war. Th. transient reference he had just made to Foch now caused the question I wanted to ask to sound less inept.

'Talking of the army,' I said. 'What did it feel like when you were in the charge?'

'In where?'

'The charge-after French's cavalry brigades crossed the Modder River.'

The General looked perplexed for a moment. Then his expression altered. He grasped the substance of my enquiry.

'Ah, yes,' he said. 'When the whole cavalry division charged. Unusual operation. Doubted the wisdom of it at the time. However, it came off all right. Extraordinary that you should have known about it. That was the occasion you mean? Of course, of course. What was it like? Just have to think for a moment. Long time ago, you know. Have to collect my thoughts. Well, I think I can tell you exactly. The fact was there had been some difficulty in mounting me, as I wasn't officially attached to the formation. Can't remember why not at this length of time. Some technicality. Ride rather heavy, you know. As far as I can remember, I had the greatest difficulty in getting my pony out of a trot. I'm sure that was what happened. Later on in the day, I shot a Boer in the s.h.i.+n. But why do you ask?'

'I don't know. I've always wanted to ask, for some reason. Infantilism, perhaps. A primordial image.'

The General agreed, cordially.

'You are an introvert, of course,' he said.

'I think undoubtedly.'

'Introverted intuitive type, do you think? I shouldn't wonder.'

'Possibly.'

'Anyway,' said the General, 'keep an eye on not over-compensating. I've been glad to tell that story about Widmerpool to someone who can appreciate the circ.u.mstances. Haven't made up my own mind about it yet. I've got a slow reactive rapidity. No doubt about that. Just as well to recognise your own limitations. Can't help wondering about the inhibiting action of the incest barrier though-among other things.'

He moved his leg once more, at the same time s.h.i.+fting the weight of his body, as he pondered this riddle. The angle of his knee and ankle emphasised the beauty of his patent leather boots.

'Well, I mustn't keep you up here away from the others any longer,' he said. 'Lots of people you ought to be meeting. You are going to be a very lucky young man, I am sure. What do you want for a wedding present?'

The change in his voice announced that our fantasy life together was over. We had returned to the world of everyday things. Perhaps it would be truer to say that our real life together was over, and we returned to the world of fantasy. Who can say? We went down the stairs once more, the General leading. Chips Lovell was talking to Miss Weedon, perhaps tiring of her company, because he slipped away at once when I came up to them, making for the drink-tray. Miss Weedon gave her glacial smile and congratulated me. We began to talk. Before we had progressed very far, Molly Jeavons, whose absence from the room I had not previously noticed, came hurriedly towards us.

'Oh, Tuffy, dear,' she said. 'Do go down and see what is happening in the bas.e.m.e.nt. A policeman has just arrived to interview Smith about a postal-order. I don't think he can have come to arrest him, but it would be saintly of you if you could clear it all up.'

Miss Weedon did not look very anxious to investigate this intrusion, but she went off obediently.

'Smith really is a dreadful nuisance,' said Molly. 'I don't mind him drinking more than he should, because he carries it pretty well, but I don't like some of the people who come to see him. I hope he hasn't got into trouble with one of them.'

Jeavons joined us.

'What's the matter now?' he asked.

'A policeman has come to see Smith.'

'Is Smith off to the Scrubs?'

'Don't be silly,' she said; and to me: 'What on earth were you talking to General Conyers about? I thought you were going to spend the rest of the evening together in my little room. I suppose you have heard your friend Mr. Widmerpool's engagement is off. Just as well, I should think. Mildred really goes too far. I've asked him tonight. 1 thought it might cheer him up.'

'You have?'

'You speak as if you didn't want to meet him. Have you both had a row? Here he is, in any case.'

After so recently hearing an account of his departure from Dogdene, I almost expected Widmerpool to display, morally, if not physically, the dishevelled state described by the General. On the contrary, as he pushed his way through the people in the room, I thought I had never seen him look more pleased with himself. His spectacles glistened. Wearing a short black coat and striped trousers, his manner suggested that he was unaware that such a thing as failure could exist: certainly not for himself. He came up to me at once.

'The door was open and I walked in,' he said. 'I think that is what Lady Molly likes. Various people were talking to a policeman in the hall. I hope nothing has gone wrong.'

'Selling tickets for the police sports, I expect.'

'I expect so,' he said. 'Curious how our situations have been reversed. You are getting married, while Mildred and I decided in the end it would be better not. We talked things over quietly, and came to the same conclusion. I think it was all for the best. She has returned to France. She prefers to live there. That was one of the bones of contention. Then, of course, there was also the disparity in age. Between you and me, I was not anxious to take on those two sons of hers. They sound an unsatisfactory couple.'

Miss Weedon now returned from her scrutiny of Smith and the policeman. With her accustomed efficiency, she appeared to have mastered the essential points of this entanglement. She spoke severely, as if she were once more a governess reporting unsatisfactory behaviour on the part of her charges.

'Smith had his name given as a reference,' she said. 'Some man he knows has been arrested. A small embezzlement. Smith is very upset about it. In tears, as a matter of fact.'

'Oh, bless the man,' said Molly. 'Why did I ever say I would take him on again, when Erridge left England? I swore he should never again enter the house after he broke the Dresden coffee-pot. Do go and see, Teddy.'

'The bloke must have been hard up for a reference, if he had to give Smith's name,' said Jeavons, thoughtfully.

He moved off without undue haste, accompanied by Miss Weedon, whose demeanour was grave. Jeavons's face implied no hope of setting right any moral mishap of Smith's.

'My mother agrees that my decision is for the best,' said Widmerpool.

'She does?'

'She liked Mildred. Thoroughly approved of her from the family point of view, for example,' said Widmerpool. 'At the same time there are sides of Mildred she felt doubtful about. My mother never attempted to hide that from me. You know, Nicholas, it is wise to take good advice about such a thing as marriage. I hope you have done so yourself. I have thought about the subject a good deal, and you are always welcome to my views.'

end.