ordinary flavour, and these took all the time that he would have to eat
the results in. Coffee he would make with a whole egg, shell and all,
stirred in; it had to be left on the hob for an incomparable time, and
he would start to catch his train with his first cup in his hand; Eileen
would have to run after him and take it away. They were, in fact, rather
like a kitten which knows it has a tail, and will fly round and round
all day with the expectation of catching that desirable appendage.
Sometimes indeed, by sheer perseverance, of which he had a great deal in
a roundabout way, Ralph would achieve something, but, when this
happened, something else, not foreseen by him, had always happened
first, which rendered that accomplishment nugatory and left it expensive
on his hands. Nevertheless they retained their faith that some day they
would get ahead of Providence and come into their own.
In view of not yet having come into their expectations they had waited
to have children; but two had rather unexpectedly been born. The babes
had succumbed, however, one to preparation for betterment too ingenious
to be fulfilled, the other to fulfilment, itself, a special kind of food
having been treated so ingeniously that it had undoubtedly engendered
poison. And they remained childless.
They were about fifty when Ralph received one morning a solicitor's
letter announcing the death of his godmother, Aunt Lispeth. When he read
out the news they looked at their plates a full minute without speaking.
Their expectations had matured. At last they were to come into something
in return for nothing. Aunt Lispeth, who had latterly lived at Ipswich
in a house which he had just not built for her, was an old maid. They
had often discussed what she would leave them--though in no mean or
grasping spirit, for they did not grudge the 'poor old girl' her few
remaining years, however they might feel that she was long past enjoying
herself. The chance would come to them some time, and when it did of
course must be made the best of. Then Eileen said:
"You must go down at once, Ralph!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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