For Love Alone by Christina Stead Page B

showed them to me. We nearly blew a rib when we saw them.”
    They all became serious. “Why eyes?” puzzled Aunt Bea. “A big eye, with lashes, in blue,” Tina explained.
    â€œI’ve seen them things,” said Esmay, “quite a few times. Maybe it means something. Mr Vetter’s friends said it was a masonic symbol.”
    The girls came rushing back with the limerick and started whispering it, with side glances at the Andrew Hawkins girls, “Oh, we simply exploded.”
    â€œNow you speak of it,” said Bea thoughtfully, “I heard of it a long time ago. Now what could it mean ?”
    â€œPerhaps it is Egyptian, it is the eye of Ra rising,” burst out Teresa, then blushed. “It might be an old thing.”
    â€œBut why would the Egyptians have hieroglyphs on their po’s?” asked Aunt Bea.
    â€œTo see with at night,” Tina said, and yelled with laughter.
    â€œVenus can see at night without eyes,” said Teresa. At this strange remark, they all looked at her and fell silent; they even looked a little sulky or underhand. Teresa felt herself turn red slowly from soles to hair-roots. Aunt Bea came round to them, all bonhomie. “Teresa, dear, you oughtn’t to say things like that, a young girl like you, but of course we know, dear, that is just thoughtlessness. Now, you girls break it up, mingle with the others. What ever will Aunt Eliza think if we stand around in scrums? Now you two girls,” she continued, bustling Teresa and Kitty off, “come and speak to your Aunt Eliza and Uncle Don, I don’t believe you’ve congratulated them yet, and they’ll feel deeply hurt if you don’t. They’re so fond of you, now come along, and you look so pretty, I’m sure Aunt Eliza appreciates it—”
    In the natural intermittings of the concupiscent fever which had them all, she needed some arid activity. But they did not reach the circle of froufrou and decency in which the parents of the young couple stood, for the bridesmaid came rippling in, her face bloated with heat and importance, stately, as the groups flowed back before her, and she reached the bride’s parents, saying: “She’s coming now.”
    â€œShe’s coming now, the bride’s coming now, the happy pair is coming now, here they come!”
    The guests crushed together and then like grains through a hopper began to stream and blend their flows, they turned, swarmed and reknotted their groups, pushed back, pressed forward; nearer the door vaguely moved back and those near the table confusedly bent towards it. Someone went to the musicians and the girls pushed forward with avid expressions. Here she was, with her bridegroom, standing a moment at the door, she a little pyramid of satin, with a small oval face, looking at them, as she paused as if they were all strangers, he in a dark suit, the veil over his arm, already disturbed by a husband’s worries, looking friendly. She made her way to the table, followed by him, forcing herself to speak amiably and call them all by their names. Andrew Hawkins’s girls, who hung back, presently found themselves at the foot of one of the tables, opposite them Aunt Bea.
    â€œDo you see where Annette is?” asked Aunt Bea. “Malfi insisted upon having Anne beside her, because you know they were childhood playmates and Malfi has a loving little heart, bless her, whatever her quick temper may lead her to do,” and she went on, “Don’t think you’re left out in the cold, because you’re here. I’m here too, among the poor relations, but I’m lucky to be near my two fondest nieces, aren’t I? I always look on the bright side, because there always is a bright side; and when I look up there and see my girlie sitting there, so pretty in her blue—do you notice how lovely Anne’s hair is to-day? It’s the electricity in the air, I suppose—I