The Death of the Heart - Elizabeth Bowen [110]
We had been so long that Clara said good gracious, she had to hurry, a judge was coming to dinner at her home. So Dickie said she had better buzz straight back, so she did, and he and I walked home. He said, was I sorry I was going away? I said I was (I am) and he turned round and gave a look at the top of my head and said, so were they all. He said I had become quite one of them. That made me ask, did he like Eddie too. He said, of course he's an amusing chap. I said I was so glad he thought Eddie was funny. He said, he is something of a Lothario, isn't he? I said Eddie was not really, and he said, well, he loses his head a bit, if you know what I mean. I said I did not quite, and he said, well to my mind it is largely a matter of character. He said he judged people by their characters. I said was that always a quite good way of judging, as people's characters get so different at times, as it depends so much what happens to them. He said no, I was wrong, that what happened to people depended on their characters. I know Dickie sounds right, but I don't feel he is. By that time we were out on the esplanade and there was a sunset right into our eyes. I said didn't the sea look like glass, and he said yes he supposed it did. I said I did like Clara, and he said oh she's all right but she loses her head. I said then did he mean Clara was like Eddie, and he said he did not. Then we got to Waikiki.
Sunday.
My last Sunday. It's very very fine, hot. The leaves are out on the chestnuts, though not big leaves, and the other trees have a quite frilly look. After church Mrs. Heccomb and I were asked into someone's garden to have a look at the hyacinths. They are just like all sorts of coloured china. In the garden Mrs. Heccomb said to the lady, Next Sunday, alas, we shall not have Portia with us. I thought, next Sunday, I might even see Eddie and yet I still thought, oh I do want to stay here. Now the summer is coming they will do all sorts of things I have not seen them doing yet. In London I do not know what anybody is doing, there are no things I can watch people do. Though things have hurt me since I was left behind here, I would rather stay with the things here than go back to where I do not know what will happen.
On the way back from the hyacinth garden, Mrs. Heccomb said what a great pity it was that I had not been for a row on the canal. She says that is where they row in summer. I said, but don't they row in the sea, and she said no, that is so public, the canal is shadier. She said how would it be if she asked Cecil to row her and me there this afternoon. So we went round by Cecil's house, he was out but his mother said she would certainly ask him to row us.
So this afternoon we did. Cecil rowed, and he showed me how to steer, and Mrs. Heccomb held up a parasol. It was mauve silk, and once or twice when I was not steering I caught weed in my hands. The weed is strong, and it also caught on the oars. So none of us said much while Cecil was rowing, Mrs. Heccomb thought and I looked down in the water or up at the trees. The sun shone almost loudly. A swan came along and Mrs. Heccomb said it would be nesting and might likely be cross, so she folded up her parasol to hit at it, and Cecil said, I had better ship my oars. But the swan did not take any notice of us. Later we passed its nest, with the other one sitting there.
All the others were playing tennis somewhere. When I first got here, Mrs. Heccomb was wearing her fur coat. Now though it is all pale green it is summer. Things change very fast at this time of year, something happens every day. All winter nothing happened at all.
Tonight Mrs. Heccomb is singing in an oratorio. Daphne and Dickie and Clara and Evelyn and Wallace and Charlie and Cecil are all downstairs playing rummy because she is out. But Mrs. Heccomb made me go to bed early, because I caught a headache on the canal.
Monday.
Mrs. Heccomb is tired after the oratorio, and Daphne and Dickie do not like fine Mondays. Now I shall go out and lie on the beach.
Tuesday.
I