Chapter 4 Section 3

Alfred Lee and his wife Lydia sat discussing their Christmas plans in the splendid drawing room of Goston House.Alfred was a tall, middle-aged man with a kind face and soft brown eyes.When he spoke, his voice was very soft, and his enunciation was very clear.The head was tucked into the shoulders, showing an unusual dullness.Lydia, his wife, was a feisty, thin and quick greyhound-like woman.She is very thin, but graceful in every move. Her careless and haggard face is not beautiful, but there is an extraordinary temperament.Her voice is also very charming.Alfred said: "Father insisted on doing it! There's no way it can be done."

Restraining a burst of impatience, Lypha said, "Do you always have to give in to him?" "He's getting old, my dear—" "Oh, I know—I know!" "He wants to be able to do whatever he wants." Lydia said calmly: "Of course, since he can always be satisfied, but when the time comes, Alfred, you should fight back." "What do you mean, Lydia?" He stared at her with such obvious dismay and consternation that for a moment she bit her lip, as if hesitating whether to continue. Alfred Lee repeated: "What do you mean, Lydia?"

Shrugging her thin, graceful shoulders, she spoke, choosing the right words carefully: "Your father had—tyrant—inclinations—" "He's old." "Will be older, and more and more tyrannical as a result. When will there be a head? He has completely taken control of our lives. We can't have our own life plans at all! Once we have a plan, it always ends up Disappointed." Alfred said: "Father wants to be considered first. He was very good to us, don't forget." "Oh, good for us!" "very good." Alfred's tone was a little harsh.

Lydia said calmly, "You mean money?" "Yes, his own needs are very simple. But he has never been stingy with us in money. You can spend what you want to buy clothes or decorate the house, and he doesn't say a word when he pays the bill. Just He just gave us a new car last week." "Your father was very generous when it came to money. I admit it," Lydia said. "But in return he wanted us to be like slaves." "slave?" "That's the exact word I used. You are his slave, Alfred. If we plan to go out and your father suddenly wants us not to go, you will cancel your arrangements and stay without a word! If He wanted us to leave on a whim, and we left ... We didn't have a life of our own — we couldn't make our own decisions."

Her husband said distressedly: "I beg you don't say that, Lydia. It's ungrateful, my father has done so much for us..." She swallowed back the rebuttal that came to her lips, shrugged her thin and elegant shoulders again, and Alfred said, "You know, Lydia, the old man likes you very much." His wife answered clearly: "I don't like him at all." "Lydia, I'm so sorry to hear you say that. It's so heartless." "Perhaps. But there are times when you can't help but tell the truth." "If father guesses..." "Your father knows very well that I don't like him! It amuses him, I think."

"Really? Lydia, I'm sure you're wrong. He used to tell me how polite you were to him." "Of course I'm always polite. And I always will be. I just want you to know what I really feel. I don't like your father, Alfred. I think he's a vicious and tyrannical man. The old man. He trampled on you wantonly and abused your love for him. You should have risen up and resisted." Alfred said sternly, "That's enough, Lydia, please stop talking." She sighed. "I'm sorry. Maybe I'm wrong...Let's talk about the Christmas arrangements. Do you think your brother David will actually come?"

"Why not?" She shook her head suspiciously. "David's—queer. Don't forget, he hasn't been in this house in years. He's so devoted to your mother—he seems to have a special affection for this place." "David always pissed my father off," Alfred said, "with his music and his unrealistic way of life. Dad was maybe a little too hard on him sometimes. But I think David and Hilda Still coming. It's Christmas, you know." "Peace and friendship," Lydia said, curling her small mouth mockingly. "I doubt very much that George and Magdalen are coming. They say they might come tomorrow. I'm afraid Bo Magdalen will find it very boring."

Alfred said with a slight irritation: "I can't imagine why my brother George should marry a girl twenty years his junior! George has always been a fool!" "He's been very successful professionally," Lydia said. "His constituents love him. I'm sure Magdalen has worked very hard for him politically." Alfred said slowly: "I don't think I like her very much. She's very pretty--but sometimes I think she's like those beautiful pearls--they have a rosy flush and a rather smooth The look of—" He shook his head. "But they have nothing to show?" said Lydia. "How funny you should say that, Alfred!"

"What's so funny?" She replied, "Because—usually—you're such a nice guy. You almost never say anything bad about anyone. I get on you sometimes because you're not enough—oh, what should I do Said? Not suspicious enough--it's hardly a human being in this world!" Her husband laughed. "I always feel that the world you mentioned is just something you came up with." Lydia said sharply: "No! Evil is not just a figment of man's imagination. Evil exists, and you don't seem to be aware of the evil in the world. But I do, and I can feel it. I've always felt it. It's—in this house—" She bit her lip and looked away.

Alfred said, "Lydia—" But she stopped him with a quick gesture, looking over his shoulder and behind him.Alfred turned his head away. A dark-skinned, polite man with hypocrisy stood there humbly. Lydia said bluntly, "What's the matter, Hawberry?" Horberry's voice was low, little more than a humble grunt. "It's Mr. Li, ma'am. He asked me to tell you that there are two more guests coming for Christmas. Can you prepare two more rooms for them?" Lydia said, "Two more guests?" Horberry replied calmly, "Yes. Ma'am, a gentleman and a young lady."

Alfred asked in surprise: "A young lady?" "That's what Mr. Lee said, sir." Lydia said quickly, "I'm going up to him—" Holbury took a small step forward, it was only a slight movement, but it made Lydia's swift movement stop involuntarily. "I'm sorry, ma'am, Mr. Li is taking a lunch break. He specifically told him not to be disturbed." "I see," said Alfred. "Of course we won't bother him." "Thank you very much, sir." Holbury stepped back. Lydia said indignantly, "I hate this man so much. He creeps about the house like a cat. You never hear him coming or going." "I don't like him very much either. But he is loyal to his duty. It is not easy to find a good male nurse these days. Besides, father likes him, which is the most important thing." "Yes, as you say, this is the most important thing. Alfred, what is the matter with this young lady, and which young lady?" Her husband shook his head. "I can't think of one. I can't think of a possible one at all." They exchanged glances, and then Lydia spoke first, her expressive mouth twitching suddenly, "Do you know what I'm thinking, Alfred?" "what?" "I think your father's been bored lately. I think he's planning a little Christmas entertainment for himself." "In this way, two strangers are invited to a family gathering?" "Oh, I don't know what the exact details are - but I think your father is going to - have fun." "I hope he gets some pleasure out of it," said Alfred solemnly. "Poor old man, after all his past adventures, he's a cripple." Lydia swallowed, "After his old—adventurous life." Her brief pause before the adjective gives it an ambiguous but special meaning.Alfred seemed to be aware of this.He blushed and looked very unhappy, and she suddenly raised her voice: "How he has a son like you, I can't imagine! You two are like opposite poles. And he fascinates you ——you just worship him blindly!" Alfred said distressedly, "Aren't you going too far, Lydia? It should be said that this is a normal thing. A son loves his father. Otherwise, it would be abnormal." Lydia said: "Most of the family is - not normal in this matter! Oh let's stop arguing! I apologize. I know I hurt your feelings. Trust me Al Fred, I really didn't mean to. I greatly admire your—your—loyalty. Loyalty is a rather rare virtue these days. Let's put it this way, shall we? Let me be jealous. Since women They are supposed to be jealous of their mother-in-laws—so why, not their father-in-laws?" He stretched out his arms to hug her gently. "You can't control your mouth, Lydia. You have no reason to be jealous." She quickly gave him an apologetic kiss, stroking his earlobe tenderly. "I know. Also, Alfred, I don't think I should be jealous of your mother. How I wish I knew her." "She's a poor wretch," he said. His wife watched him with interest. "Is that what she came across to you...a poor thing...that's interesting." He said absent-mindedly: "I remember that she was almost always sick...crying a lot..." He shook his head, "She wasn't angry." She stared at him and whispered, "That's weird..." But when he shot her a questioning glance, she shook her head quickly and changed the subject. "Since we don't want to know who our mysterious guest is, I'd better go out and finish the things in my garden first." "It's cold out, my dear. It's bitter." "I'll be wrapped up and warm." She leaves the room.Alfred.Li stood motionless for a while, frowning slightly.Then he walked to the large window at the end of the room, which looked out onto a wide deck that joined the house.In a minute or two he saw Lydia appear there, carrying a flat-bottomed basket and wearing a heavy coat.She put down the basket and began to work in a square stone trough slightly raised from the ground. Her husband watched for a while.Finally he came out of the room, got himself a coat and scarf, and went out on to the deck by the side door.As he walked, he passed through other stone troughs arranged in miniature landscapes, all made by Lydia's deft hands. A scene representing the desert, with flat yellow sand, a small clump of green palm trees made of stained tin cans, a caravan of camels, and an Arab or two.Several primitive mud houses are made of clay.The other was Italian, with terraces and orderly gardens of flowers made of dyed sealing-wax.There is also a view of the Arctic, with icebergs made of green glass and a small group of penguins.The next one is a Japanese garden with beautiful small bonsai, mirrors to represent water, and small bridges made of clay. He came to the end and stood where she was working.She spread the blue paper on the floor and pressed glass on it.Next to it is a pile of stones.At this moment she was pouring rough pebbles out of a small bag.And arrange them to look like a beach.Among the stones are some small cacti. Lydia was talking to herself in a low voice: "Yes, that's what it looks like—exactly as I thought it would be." Alfred said, "What's this latest work?" She was taken aback because she didn't hear him coming. "This? Oh, this is the Dead Sea, Alfred, do you like it?" He said: "It's pretty wild, isn't it? Shouldn't there be a little more greenery here?" She shook her head. "That's how I imagined the Dead Sea to be. It's called the Dead Sea, you understand?" "It's not as good-looking as the others." "It wasn't meant to be particularly pretty." Footsteps sounded on the terrace.An elderly butler, gray-haired and somewhat stooped, was coming towards them. "Mrs. George Lee is calling, ma'am. She asked if it would be convenient for her and Mr. George to arrive at five-twenty tomorrow?" "Okay, tell her it's perfectly fine." "Thank you, ma'am." The butler hurried away.Lydia watched him go with a very soft expression on her face. "Dear old Tracylian. How trustworthy he is! I can't imagine what we would do without him." Alfred agrees. "He's kind of an old-school guy, been here for almost forty years. He gave us his life." Lydia nodded. "Yes, he is like those loyal old servants in the novels. I believe that if necessary, in order to protect a member of the family, he will be uncharacteristically, and he will not hesitate to disgrace others." Alfred said: "I'm sure he will... yes, I do." Lydia put away the last pebble from the beach. "Here," she said, "it's all ready." "Ready for what?" Alfred looked confused. She laughed. "Christmas, fool! For this sweet family Christmas we're having."