The Present and the Past by Ivy Compton-Burnett

They don’t seem to mind a low standard.’
    â€˜It is important to rinse every cup with hot water,’ said Elton, doing as he said.
    â€˜You will find my casual methods a change,’ said Catherine. ‘I hope you will not mind them.’
    â€˜Ursula will not. I shall mind them very much. But wild horses would not drag it from me. Though I hardly think wild horses do as much to drag things from people as is thought.’
    Catherine gave her quick, deep laugh.
    â€˜I could never give anything more attention than I felt it deserved,’ she said.
    â€˜But food deserves all attention. And tea is an Englishwoman’s favourite meal. And her standard is mine.’
    â€˜And is it also Ursula’s?’
    â€˜I strive to make it so,’ said the latter, ‘and I am proud if I succeed. I am a person with my own pathos. But I hope no one knows that.’
    â€˜I wonder if I am,’ said Elton. ‘Or is my pathos so much my own that it does not count?’
    â€˜What does it consist of?’ said Catherine.
    â€˜Of asking so little of life. Of feeling that is all I deserve. Of being afraid to publish what I write, for fear people should read it. Of being glad that I cannot afford to marry, in case I should do so.’
    â€˜You would not have to marry because you could afford to.’
    â€˜People do seem to have to,’ said Elton.
    â€˜Would you like to marry, Ursula?’
    â€˜No, but I wish people believed it. I don’t like to have any pathos but my own.’
    â€˜Why do you not want to?’
    â€˜I could not give a house those unmistakable signs of a woman’s presence. I do not even recognize them.’
    â€˜I hardly think I gave my house those signs.’
    â€˜Then perhaps Cassius had his own pathos. And I see it must have been his own. I don’t wonder you could not bear it.’
    â€˜There were things I could not bear,’ said Catherine, in a just audible tone.
    â€˜I could not bear anything. I shut my eyes to that side of life.’
    â€˜What do you know about life?’ said her sister.
    â€˜Everyone knows all about it. It is impossible to help it, though it is best not to put it into words.’
    â€˜Tell me what you know.’
    â€˜Let me do it,’ said Elton. ‘It is not short and will not soon be gone. It is longer than anyone can realize. And it is very brave to end it. To say it is cowardly is absurd. It is only said by people who would not dare to do it.’
    â€˜Some people dare to face life,’ said Catherine.
    â€˜Most people do,’ said Ursula. ‘We are talking of facing death.’
    â€˜I never feel disapproval,’ said Elton. ‘It is a feeling foreign to my nature. I hardly need to know all to forgive all. Considering the pleasure of knowing, that is only fair. I can hardly bear to know it; I forgive so much. I think people do such understandable things.’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Ursula; ‘I am often ashamed of understanding them.’
    â€˜I hope I understand,’ said Catherine, looking straight before her. ‘I hope I had sympathy. I hope I did not give it only to myself. I wonder if I knew my husband’s nature. I wonder if I recognized its signs.’
    â€˜Signs are not things we can be expected to study,’ said her brother.
    â€˜I wonder if I measured our difference. I was of another character. I did not look for thrust or insult. I never retaliated, but I forget none. The load of memory became too great. He did not know what I carried with me. His burden was light.’
    â€˜We sometimes see the boys in the distance. They are growing up.’
    â€˜Yes, I have missed their childhood. I have faced it every day, given each its own loss.’
    â€˜I have said an insensitive thing, and I did not think I could. It is terrible to know oneself. I hope I shall never get to know the whole.’
    â€˜Do they know I am here?’ said