News of the Engagement
Two days after his proposal to Agnes, Philip has come to spend Christmas with his mother and to tell her about
his engagement. He feels excited and a little nervous. To his amazement, he notices that his mother is also
more excited than usual. Is that because she already knows about his engagement? Or is there another reason?
My mother never came to meet me at Bursley station when I arrived in the Five Towns from London.
She always had other things to do; she was ¡°preparing¡± for me. So I had the little journey from Knype
to Bursley, and then the walk up Trafalgar Road, all by myself. And there was enough time to consider how
I should break to my mother the tremendous news I had for her. I had been considering that question since
I got into the train at Euston, where I had said good-bye to Agnes; but in the atmosphere of the Five Towns
it seemed more difficult, though, of course, it wasn¡¯t difficult, really.
You see, I wrote to my mother regularly every week, telling her most of my doings. She knew all my friends by name;
I am sure she formed in her mind notions of what sort of people they were. Thus I had often mentioned Agnes and her
family in my letters. But you can¡¯t write even to your mother and say: ¡°I think I am beginning to fall in love
with Agnes,¡± ¡°I think Agnes likes me,¡± ¡°I love her,¡± ¡°I feel certain she loves me too,¡± ¡°I shall propose
to her some day.¡± You can¡¯t do that. At least I couldn¡¯t. Therefore it had happened that on the 20th of December
I had proposed to Agnes and she agreed to marry me, and my mother had no suspicion that my happiness was so near.
And on the 22nd of December I came to spend Christmas with my mother.
I was the only son of a widow; I was all that my mother had. And I had gone and engaged myself to a girl
she had never seen, and I had not told her anything about it. She would certainly be very much surprised,
and she might be a little hurt¡ªjust at first. Anyhow, the situation was very delicate.
I walked up the white front steps of my mother¡¯s little house, just opposite where the electric cars stop,
but before I could put my hand on the bell, my little mother, in her black silk and her gold brooch opened to me,
having doubtless watched me down the road from the window, as usual, and she said, as usual, kissing me,
¡°Well, Philip! How are you?¡±
And I said,
¡°Oh! I¡¯m all right, mother. How are you?¡±
I noticed at once that she was more excited than my arrival usually made her. There were tears in her smiling eyes,
and she was as nervous as a young girl. And indeed she looked remarkably young for a woman of forty-five, with
twenty-five years of widowhood and a short but stormy married life behind her.
The thought flashed across my mind: ¡°By some means or other she has some information about my engagement. But how?¡±
But I said nothing. I too, was rather nervous.
¡°I¡¯ll tell her at supper,¡± I decided and went upstairs.
At the moment there was a ring at the door. She ran to the door, instead of letting the servant go. It was a porter with my bag.
Just as I was coming downstairs again there was another ring at the door. And my mother appeared out of the kitchen,
but I was before her, and with a laugh I insisted on opening the front door myself this time. A young woman stood on the step.
¡°Please, Mrs. Dawson wants to know if Mrs. Durance can kindly lend her half-a-dozen knives and forks?¡±
¡°Eh, with pleasure,¡± said my mother, behind me. ¡°Just wait a minute, Lucy. Come inside.¡±
I followed my mother into the drawing-room, where she took some silver out of the cabinet, wrapped
it in tissue paper, and then went out and gave it to the servant, saying: ¡°There! And the compliments
of the season to your mistress, Lucy.¡±
After that my mother disappeared into the kitchen. And I wandered about, feeling happily excited,
examining the drawing-room, in which nothing was changed except the picture postcards on the mantelpiece.
Then I wandered into the dining-room, a small room at the back of the house, and here a great surprise awaited me.
Supper was set for three!
¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°Here¡¯s a nice state of affairs! Supper for three, and she hasn¡¯t said a word!¡±
My mother was so clever in social matters, and especially in the planning of delicious surprises, that I believed her
capable even of miracles. In some way or other she must have discovered the state of my desires towards Agnes. She and
Agnes had been plotting together by letters, or maybe by telegraph to surprise me. Though Agnes had told me that she
could not possibly come to Bursley for Christmas, she was probably here, and my mother had concealed her somewhere in
the house, or was expecting her any minute. That explained the nervousness and the rushes of my mother to the door.
I went out of the dining-room, determined not to let my mother know that I had secretly examined the supper-table.
And as I was crossing the corridor to the drawing-room there was a third ring at the door, and a third time my mother
rushed out of the kitchen.
¡°By Jove!¡± I thought. ¡°Suppose it¡¯s Agnes. What a scene!¡±
And trembling with expectation I opened the door.
It was Mr. Nixon.
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