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Updated: June 3, 2025
"And do be guided by these dear children!" Edwin caught Maggie's eye, and held it grimly. "And you, my pet," said Auntie Hamps, turning to Clara, who with Albert was now at the door. "You must be getting back to your babies! It's a wonder how you manage to get away! But you're a wonderful arranger! ... Only don't overdo it. Don't overdo it!"
The seriousness which he had felt on the day of leaving school revisited him. He looked back across the seven years of his life in the world, and condemned them unsparingly. He blamed no one but Edwin. He had forgiven his father for having thwarted his supreme ambition; long ago he had forgiven his father; though, curiously, he had never quite forgiven Mrs Hamps for her share in the catastrophe.
He wept loudly and without restraint for a few moments, and then suddenly ceased, and endeavoured to speak, and wept anew, agitating the watch in the direction of Edwin. "Take it, Edwin," said Mrs Hamps. "Perhaps he wants it put away," she added, as Edwin obeyed. Darius shook his head furiously. "I want him " Sobs choked him. "I know what he wants," said Auntie Hamps.
Darius too had taken his Saturday afternoon for a leisurely visit to the house, and somehow he must have encountered Mrs Hamps, and brought her with him to view. Without giving himself time to dissipate his courage in reflection, he walked to the landing, and called down the stairs, "Hello, Auntie!" Why should his tone have been self-conscious, forced? He was engaged in no crime.
Auntie Hamps entreated. "Don't talk about parcels!" And yet they knew that if they had not talked about a parcel the ageing lady would have been seriously wounded. "All I want is your love. You children are all I have now.
If he had held out... If he had not been a baby! ... But it was too late. The incident was now closed. Mrs Hamps was kind, but unusually firm in her tone; which reached a sort of benevolent severity. "Your father had such high hopes of you. Has I should say. He couldn't imagine what on earth possessed you to write such a letter. And I'm sure I can't. I hope you're sorry.
On the Saturday afternoon of the week following the Jubilee, Edwin and Mrs Hamps were sunning themselves in the garden, when Janet's face and shoulders appeared suddenly at the other side of the wall. At the sight of Mrs Hamps she seemed startled and intimidated, and she bowed somewhat more ceremoniously than usual. "Good afternoon!"
"Because Albert's just heard " She looked at Albert. Edwin was thunderstruck. Was the tale of his father's indisposition spread all over the Five Towns? He had thought that the arrival of Clara and her husband must be due to Auntie Hamps having called at their house on her way up to Bleakridge.
"She's not like you about him, that's sure!" Mrs Hamps admitted. And she went on, in a tone that was only superficially casual, "I wonder the mother doesn't come down to him!" Not `his' mother `the' mother. Odd, the effect of that trifle! Mrs Hamps was a great artist in phrasing. "Oh!" said Edwin. "It's not serious enough for that." "Well, I'm not so sure," Auntie Hamps gravely replied.
With a professional nurse in it, each woman sincerely felt that the house was no longer itself, that it had become the house of the enemy. Darius lay supine before them, physically and spiritually abased, accepting, like a victim who is too weak even to be ashamed, the cooings and strokings and prayers and optimistic mendacities of Auntie Hamps, and the tearful tendernesses of Clara.
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