The Heat of the Day by Elizabeth Bowen Page B

me to believe that chap is an Irishman! So what was he up to there, I should like to know?" "I don't think he said." "Up to some kind of hanky-panky, I should not wonder." "Apparently Cousin Francis knew all about him." "It was characteristic of Frankie," said Colonel Pole, "not to spot hanky-panky when he saw it. Up to a point he'd listen to any story; he was as innocent as a babe unborn. At the same time, he'd got a memory like a sieve--he had no doubt completely forgotten he ever met this fellow." "I don't think he can have," said Stella mildly. "They met by appointment in London only the other day." "What, not _this__ time?" said Colonel Pole, changing colour. "That is what Mr. Harrison told me. The day before Cousin Francis came down here." "Now that I just don't believe! Appointment? Meeting in London? Why, not a soul knew Frankie was in this country. _You'd__ heard nothing?--I thought not: no more had Maud and I. And, from what I've made out this morning, all the rest here today were just as much in the dark. To tell you the truth, it's been that that's hit me as hard as anything--Frankie's coming over to England and never letting me know! He and I, you know--or perhaps you don't--no, how should you?--grew up as boys together; one time, we were like brothers. Blood is thicker than water, whatever else they invent. You set store by your memories when you get to my age." Colonel Pole, already looking unhappy, paused, frowned, and further lowered his voice. "One or two things lately have made me ask myself whether this drawn-out wretched business about poor Nettie could have unsettled Frankie in any sort of way. Then came this Irish muddle, to top the lot--there was no braver country when I was young. Not that it does to think of the old times. Once you hand over the reins to a pack of rebels--! But there, again, you had Frankie--obstinate as a mule. You had to allow for the fact that his roots were there: he got to be as touchy as--well, I should not care to say! For instance, last Christmas, writing my yearly letter, I couldn't resist a dig; it may have been wrong of me. I wrote, 'You must be proud, these days, of your precious country!' Whereupon, will you believe me, he fired a letter back fairly blowing my head off--this and that and the other, in a pretty nearly nationalistic strain. Even Maud said, 'Why, Frankie's losing his sense of humour.' I am bound to say that, beyond agreeing with Maud, I did not make much of that at the time. It is only now--I mean, it is only since--_You__ don't imagine I could have hurt him, do you? He and I have been sparring since we were so high. Still, there it stands: he came over to England this time, after all these years, without one word to me. However... What about more coffee?" "No, thank you very much." "What you probably need, like me, is a decent lunch. Morning like this takes it out of one, makes one think. P'raps I see things out of proportion? No, whatever you say, that was _not__ like Frankie.--There's another thing I should very much like to know--what's to become of the place?" Stella raised her eyes. "It's been left to my son." "Indeed? Is that so...?" Colonel Pole digested this slowly. "All the more pity," he said, "if that's the way Frankie saw things, that that boy of yours could not be here today." Cogitation appeared in his blue eyes; he eyed the heir's mother with unaffected concern. "A white elephant. What will the boy do?" "As he knows nothing yet, I have no idea." "The last sort of thing that _his__ generation wants. Myself, I was never happier than in the old days there; I can see that place today, every stick and stone. But we've got to face it: all that's a thing of the past. It's bitter to me, all right, to think of Mount Morris going. At the same time," said Colonel Pole, sternly raising his voice and squaring his shoulders, "I advise you to advise the boy to get rid of it--sell outright, before he ties himself up. At his age, one has got to move with the