CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Henry was a religious man. He believed in the words that were spoken to him every Sunday at church. And, because of this, he also believed that there was something a little wrong with sex, even with sex with his wife. This is the part of him that Margaret hoped so much to change. For her, it was important for passion to exist in their relationship. Without it, things would be quite empty and boring.

However, no matter how hard she tried, he would not change, because he did not take notice of such things. In fact, he hardly noticed anyone else's behavior or feelings when he talked with them. When she pointed this out to him, he simply dismissed the idea by saying it was simply the way he was.

And on this particular morning, he was more unable to notice things than ever.

"Good morning, Henry! Guess whom Helen's just got a letter from ... Mr Bast! He's decided to leave the insurance company, after all."

"Really ... ? It's such a good company. Anyway, I, too, have received a letter and I need to talk with you about it," he answered, not at all interested in Mr Bast.

"What?" Margaret said with her eyes wide open, "A good company? But you said ... "

"The man at Howards End needs to break his contract early. He wants to rent the house to someone himself, but I think it's a bad idea."

"Wait, please. Mr Bast has quit his job and gone to a bank, because we suggested he do that, because of your advice. He was poor to begin with and now he's making less money than before."

"Which bank?"

"Dempster."

"Ah! Well, he's fine, then. Completely safe. Now, what about Howards End? You really should see it. Very pretty in its own little way. We'll go and have lunch with Charles soon and afterward have a look at the old house. How's Wednesday?"

"Well ... I'm supposed to stay here until ... "

"Good! I'll speak with your Aunt about your early departure."

But then Helen approached them both and, once again, spoke of Mr Bast. Margaret explained to her that Dempster was just as safe, but this did not satisfy Helen.

"He's making even less money now! My goodness, look at what we've done!" Helen cried.

"Oh well. That's the way life is," Henry said without feeling. "There will always be the rich and the poor. Why feel sorry for them?"

"But this is your fault!"

"Mine? Hardly. Nor is it your fault, so you needn't feel so bad about it. You can't save everyone."

Helen was extremely angry now, but before she could say anything more, Mr Wilcox had gone to look for Mrs Munt. She turned to her sister, instead.

"I hate men like that, who think that God will somehow eventually make life better for the Mr Basts of this world. They don't care at all about those people! You're crazy to marry such a person!" Then she ran into the house, leaving Margaret alone to look out upon the quiet countryside.

She knew what kind of man Henry was, and it did not bother her. She really was in love this time.

Later that day, after things had settled down with everyone, including Aunt Munt, who had become terribly upset at the news that her oldest niece would be leaving her home early to return to London, Margaret again had a talk with her sister.

"Please, you have to stop acting this way with me," she said.

"Oh ... fine then, marry that man. You'll be okay, I'm sure, because you're stronger and smarter than most people. I respect you more than ever, but you can't expect me to like him." She paused for a moment and then turned the conversation toward her own love life, "I don't think that I can ever get married, because I can't seem to allow myself to get into a serious romance with anyone. I imagine that I'll always run away as soon as they want to get serious."

"Well, you really never know. I just hope that you don't behave badly toward Henry."

"Don't worry. I won't. I know it'd make you very unhappy."

Margaret was happy that they could come to an understanding. It became clear to her now just how strong her relationship was with Helen. They would always be there for one another no matter what. Knowing this helped her to have a comfortable journey back to London that evening.

The next day, she went to Henry's West African Rubber Company. Upon her arrival, she ran into Charles who was alone in Henry's office, apparently waiting for his father. He greeted her politely, but coldly, as well.

"My wife expects you today for both lunch and tea. I hope that you find it pleasant. That man who was staying at Howards End has left it in a terrible condition. We are quite unhappy with him."

"Yes, indeed, we are," said Henry, as he entered the office from another doorway. "Leaving so suddenly without telling us ahead of time! I've just sent him an angry letter. He'll be responsible for taking care of the house for the next three years, as stated in our contract. Well, let's be going, shall we?"

They left immediately and, after a very fast ride in the motorcar, they soon arrived at Charles' home in Hilton. Dolly had made a fair meal and they ate everything up rather quickly. Then, while the two men smoked, the two women played with Charles' children. Margaret found that she was rather uncomfortable around babies, but she did not at all mind the two-year-old child.

Then it was time to go to Howards End. Within minutes, they arrived. It was pouring down rain now, and when she and Henry went for the front door, he realized that he had forgotten the key.

"You just wait here and I'll be back with the key," he said leaving her no choice.

After he drove away, she looked around the strangely familiar countryside. It was just as Helen had described it. Pushing a little bit on the front door she found that it was open, after all. She went inside and found that the house was a terrible mess. It looked as though it had not been cleaned for months. But through all of the dirt and disorder she could see that the house was very beautiful, as was the garden around the back, full of flowers and fruits.

As she walked around, she began to think about how wonderful this little area of land was, how much more wonderful than a hundred miles of land. At once, she became aware of the stupidity of London's desire to grow bigger and bigger. What was all that land compared to this little piece of heaven?

Then the doors that hid the stairway suddenly opened in front of her and an old woman came walking down from the second floor.

"Huh, I thought you were Ruth Wilcox ... only for a moment, though. You have a similar way of walking that she had," the old woman said to Margaret and then went out the front door into the rain.

(end of section)