The Sundial Read Free

Richard,” she said. “This is not healthy for you. I know that Lionel loved you better than anyone in the world.”
    â€œThat’s not proper,” Mr. Halloran said. “Lionel has a wife and child, now, and his father must no longer come first. Orianna, you must speak to Lionel. Tell him that I will not have it. His first, his only duty is to the good woman he married, and his sweet child. Tell Lionel . . .” He stopped uncertainly. “
Is
it Lionel who died?” he asked after a minute.
    Mrs. Halloran moved around to the back of the wheel chair and permitted herself to close her eyes tiredly. Lifting her hand with deliberation, she put it down softly onto her husband’s shoulder, and said, “His funeral went off very well.”
    â€œDo you remember,” the old man said, “we rang the bells over the carriage house when he was born?”
    _____
    Mrs. Halloran set her wine glass down very quietly, looked from Essex to Miss Ogilvie and said, “Aunt Fanny will be down for dessert?”
    â€œAdding the final touch of jubilation to a day of perfect happiness,” Essex said.
    Mrs. Halloran looked at him for a minute. “At such a remark,” she said finally, “Lionel would have found it necessary to remind you that you were not here to be ironic, but to paint murals in the breakfast room.”
    â€œOrianna
dear
,” said Essex with a little false laugh, “I had not suspected you of fallibility; the one painting murals in the breakfast room was the
last
young man;
I
am the young man who is supposed to be cataloguing the library.”
    â€œLionel wouldn’t have known,” Miss Ogilvie said, and turned pink.
    â€œBut he would have suspected,” Mrs. Halloran said agreeably, and then, “Aunt Fanny is at the door; I hear her little cough. Essex, go and let her in, or she will never bring herself to turn the doorknob.”
    Essex opened the door with a flourish; “Good evening, Aunt Fanny,” he said. “I hope this sad day has agreed with you?”
    â€œNo one needs to worry over me, thank you. Good evening, Orianna, Miss Ogilvie. Please don’t bother, really; you know perfectly well Aunt Fanny is not one to worry over. Orianna, I shall be glad to stand.”
    â€œEssex,” said Mrs. Halloran, “set a chair for Aunt Fanny.”
    â€œI’m sure the young man would rather not, Orianna. I am accustomed to taking care of myself, as
you
have surely discovered.”
    â€œA glass of wine for Aunt Fanny, Essex.”
    â€œI take wine only with my equals, Orianna. My brother Richard—”
    â€œIs resting. He has had his dinner, Aunt Fanny, and his medicine, and I promise you that nothing will prevent your seeing him later in the evening. Aunt Fanny, sit down at once.”
    â€œI was not brought up to take orders, Orianna, but I suppose you are mistress here now.”
    â€œIndeed I am. Essex.” Mrs. Halloran turned easily in her chair and leaned her head back comfortably. “I want to hear how you wasted your youth. Only the scandalous parts.”
    â€œThe path gets straighter and narrower all the time,” Essex said. “The years press in. The path becomes a knife edge and I creep along, holding on even to that, the years closing in on either side and overhead.”
    â€œThat’s not very scandalous,” Mrs. Halloran said.
    â€œI am afraid,” Aunt Fanny said, “that this young man did not have what we used to call ‘advantages’. Not everyone, Orianna, was fortunate enough to grow up in luxury and plenty. As of course
you
know perfectly well.”
    â€œThe statistics scratch at your eyes,” Essex said. “When I was twenty, and could not see time at all, the chances of my dying of heart disease were one in a hundred and twelve. When I was twenty-five and deluded for the first time by a misguided passion, the chances of my dying of cancer