CHAPTER ELEVEN

The funeral ended. After all the carriages of the wealthy had gone, the poor people remained around the grave to talk about the newly dead individual. It was exciting for them when a rich person died. It was a big event that always seemed to help them appreciate life again. Some of them said that they had known Mrs Wilcox was going to die soon, because she had a strange look about her, recently. Others said that it was the city that killed her.

Once the gravediggers finished their work and placed the flowers on top of the filled-in hole, the last remaining townspeople left the cemetery, still talking about the dead. Once everyone had gone, a wood-cutter who had been working near the funeral site came over to the grave and, noticing the hundreds of flowers, said to himself: "People shouldn't give such colorful flowers at funerals." And he picked one of them up, placed it in his pocket, and headed for home.

Mr Wilcox was terribly sad. He could not stop thinking about his wife and how wonderful she had been. He remembered how simple and honest she was. She was not aware of the bad things that exist in the world, and, had she become aware, she probably would not have been able to understand them. She never changed over all the years he had known her. They had lived happily together without fighting even once.

One thing, however, that did upset him, was the way she kept her illness a secret from him. He felt that it was unfair for her to have died so suddenly and without explanation or warning.

He wanted to cry, but if you were to look at him, you would never be able to know it. His appearance was handsome and manly. No sign of inner weakness could be easily found there. When Evie entered his room carrying letters that had just arrived, he hid his eyes from her by going to the window and looking out at the fields.

"Here is the mail, father. Do you need anything? I'd be happy to get it for you?"

"No, I don't need anything. Thank you," he answered.

Downstairs, the young Wilcoxes, Charles, his wife, and Evie sat at the dining table and talked.

"He hasn't eaten anything," Evie said, obviously worried.

"Oh, stop. He'll eat after he finishes reading the letters," Charles said, not believing his own words. "I'm terribly angry about that wood-cutter yesterday. It was so rude of him to work and make all of that noise during mother's funeral. I'm going to complain to his boss."

"Yes, you should."

This was the way that the Wilcoxes talked with one another. They did not like to show much emotion, although, they certainly were very sad to have lost their mother. Their sadness was even deeper than their father's, because wives can eventually be replaced, while mothers never can.

Charles decided to return to London and get back to work. He would leave his father alone with Evie at Howards End to think about his dead wife in peace. When he went to get his car, he discovered that it had been driven, for there was a little dirt on it. He demanded that the driver immediately clean it off and tell him who had been driving his car. The dirt came off very easily, but the driver did not know who had taken the car out. They argued over this for a few minutes, and during this time, Mrs Charles tried to get her husband's attention to tell him that his father had come downstairs and wanted to talk to him about a letter he had just received from someone named Schlegel.

"It seems that your mother has given Howards End to this woman, Margaret Schlegel! Your family will all have to move!" she explained.

"What?" Charles asked, surprised and confused by the news.

"Charles!" Mr Wilcox yelled from the front door of the house, "Come in here, please. We have something important to discuss."

When Charles re-entered the home, his father handed him a letter and asked that he read it. It was from a London nursing home. Attached to it was a note written by Mrs Wilcox. He read it aloud:

Dear husband, it is my wish to give Howards End to Margaret Schlegel.

"That's not at all legal!" shouted Charles' wife. "She would have needed a lawyer to make it legal."

"We're aware of that, Dolly. Thank you," Mr Wilcox responded. "Please, stay out of this conversation and let us handle things."

"Do you think this Margaret Schlegel might have tried to trick our mother into giving her Howards End while we were away?" asked Charles.

"No. I don't think that happened at all," answered Mr Wilcox. "I'm more concerned about my wife's condition when she wrote this letter. Was she clear at the time?"

The two men then discussed the problem in a business-like way, without any emotion, for this was the way that the Wilcoxes handled things. They felt that passion was useless and even dangerous to a person. This is why they could not understand Mrs Wilcox's letter. They did not really know what Howards End meant to her. She wanted to give it to another person who might be passionate about it, as well. Naturally, they did not want to just give away their home to a stranger, but it was hard for them to completely ignore the last wish of someone they all loved so much. They thought the letter was cruel and uncaring. So much so that it made Mrs Wilcox a little less precious to them.

"Miss Schlegel's a terrible person!" cried Dolly.

"No, I'm certain that she had no idea that Mrs Wilcox would leave her Howards End. She has been a bit troublesome over the past few days, but I trust her."

"Why did she have to come to the funeral, and why did she bring such colorful flowers?" asked Evie.

"She was a friend of your mother's. She had good reason to be there. As for the flowers, maybe it's a German tradition to bring colorful flowers to a funeral. I don't know."

"Well I don't like Germans, especially her kind," said Charles, "By the way, father, I want you to speak with your driver. I'm sure he took my car out for a drive."

"Did he damage it?" asked Mr Wilcox.

"No."

"Then I'll say nothing to him."

Truly, Margaret knew nothing about Mrs Wilcox's letter. In fact, she would not find out about it until years later. No, at the moment, she was only aware of the wonderful relationship that had developed so quickly between herself and Mrs Wilcox.

Over the past week, she had spent quite a lot of time with the Wilcox family. She found that they were quite different from her and her friends and family. They did not possess the same qualities that she had, but, at the same time, she did not have their qualities either. They were people who lived in the outside world and made things happen. They were hard and cold, but effective. Such people were equally as necessary in this world as she was, she thought. Helen disagreed, but Margaret's mind could not be changed. She wanted to help them and even felt that they could help her, as well.

Margaret, Helen, and Tibby sat in their living room talking about recent events. Helen, who had just returned from her travels in Germany, reported that another man had asked her to marry him, but, of course, she refused him. Tibby talked excitedly about his plans to go to Oxford University this year. And Margaret, who was still full of the Wilcox family, informed them that she had received a letter from them asking if Mrs Wilcox had promised to give her something. She wrote them back, telling them no promises had been made, and a week later, Mr Wilcox sent a beautiful necklace of Mrs Wilcox's along with a letter saying that he hoped that the two families would keep in touch.

(end of section)