The Education of Eric Lane
and Melton turnpike, followed by three Irish miles of unaided forest track. Half of it lies under water for six months of the year; but in the summer a rutted ride proj
rrant geese make good their eleventh-century claim to free pasturage. At one end of the down-soft clearing, a Methodist chapel, two shops and five cottages constitute the village of Lashmar; at the other lies Lashmar Mill-House, slumbering half-hidden by beech trees to the unchanging murmur of the Bort. Th
through the forest. He was tired and uncommunicative, though his journey from Waterloo had been uneventful; once inside the carriage and tucked warmly into a corner, Barbara had closed her eyes, sighed and droppehat he was trying to render his return agreeably dramatic. Lady Lane assisted the conspiracy by inviting their few neighbours to meet him; Sybil was awaiting
on leave yester
I haven't seen him for
by the work and distractions of London. When the car stopped at the door of the Mill-House, he looked with affection at its squat, sleepy extent, punctu
Eric!" s
other," he answered, jumping o
Latin to help the boys with their home-work and had trained their characters in an austere school of aggressive Puritanism. If she were a little intolerant, at least she reared her children to a lofty sense of honour, a cold chastity of life and speech and a fierce refusal to compromise where truth or personal reputation was concerned. Thanks to her, three boys and one girl were now able t
e said, giving his arm a gentle
nged," said Er
them, a furtive, dark rectangle where they hurried through their meals. Eric had begged for years to have the back wall removed from the hall to make an adequate dining-room, but his mother had grown midd
the light. "Tell me what you've been doing all t
en doing a lot of work, meeting a lot
n the pockets of a short tweed skirt, staring idly at her own small feet in their brown stockings and thic
e other night," she interjected, in a pause,
making me later," Eric answered
and observed an expression of mixed curiosity
" said Sybil. "And Lady Barbara Neave. Are
th the Crawleighs to-day," he added without filling in the intervening encounters. "Lady Crawlei
ith them all at once!" Sybil comm
irl," Eric ans
ike what people ma
iled to
replied. Sybil was smiling mysteriously and exasperatingly t
and an ill-smelling corn-cob drooping from beneath his unassertive grey moustache. In an arm-chair before the fire Geoff was contentedly dozing with the bog-mud steam
een sent to hunt you off to dress, father
ith a wintry smile. The boy in the arm-chair turned on to hi
ined Sir Francis. "The Grand Fleet doesn'
much as usual,"
s usual here," said his father,
and the presence of a wife as he would have accepted a new house and strange house-keeper; children had been born; after the publication of his Smaller Anglo-Saxon Dictionary the friend of a friend had recommended him, through a friend's friend, for a knighthood, and he had bestirred himself with wide-eyed, childish surprise for the investiture and a congratulatory dinner at the Athen?um, retur
d not at once accommodate himself to the le
Geoff!"
e suddenly active and projected himself across the room, tu
t, he could not at once accommodate himself to the simplicity of the Mill-House. "Pity you never turned t
ersistent but fruitless campaign against the s
ense. And we seem to struggle o
ggles as much as possible
he war's on," Sir Francis pointed out,
e was a school-boy, carefully protected from pampering. Sporadic attempts were made, whenever he launched an offensive against the domestic economy of the house; but the ma
d of emptying taps and a voice
f!" Eric cried, banging on the do
was surrendered to him. No man could have a hot bath and dress in five minutes;
ater was