Hmmm...trying to be clever. Not sure whether it works...?
"Robert, he's not a chauffeur any more, he's your son-in-law and the father of your grandchild."
She had made the same point numerous times over the last few days. Her voice was beginning to lose its calm indulgence:
"Whatever you say, whatever you think of them, they're still my parents, Tom."
"It just don't sit comfortably with me - attacking the English capitalists and landlords in the paper, then sitting down to dinner with them."
"I'm sure Papa doesn't think of himself as a capitalist. Perhaps it would be better to understand him before attacking him."
"Does your father understand? Does he understand that it's people like him that have caused Ireland's problems."
"Have you read what the man's been writing? Apparently I represent the very structures he seeks to tear down."
"Oh I don't know, Robert - perhaps reform is better from the inside."
"Aha! So the chau...our Mr Branson is a Trojan Horse then."
"If you like."
"But I can hardly see us making polite conversation after dinner, especially with Matthew still in London."
" Just come straight through after dinner then. And it's probably best to avoid politics."
"So what else do we talk about?"
"Darling, you don't need to talk to him. Just be polite."
"Does he have anything suitable to wear? I don't suppose there's much call for white tie on the campaign-"
"Yes."
He stared at her, about to ask what other arrangements had been made without his knowledge, finally deciding he didn't want to know the details:
"Now we've sorted out your clothes for tonight, and it will just be my parents and sisters, so it shouldn't be too intimidating..."
"I thought the poor man will find dinner intimidating enough without the confrontation with your mother as well."
"...They don't intimidate me, Sybil. I'm not afraid of standing up for what's right."
"I hardly think he's the type to be intimidated, Cora. On the contrary, I have a feeling he'll delight in putting us all in our places..."
They were approaching the house. She quickly ended the tirade before the car stopped on the driveway.
"They are your family now-"
"He is family now-"
"You will be civil won't you darling-?"
"You will welcome him, won't you darling-?"
"For my sake."
"For Syblil's sake."
After a such a heartfelt plea, there is only one answer he can give:
"Of course I will."
His wife rewards him with a grateful smile. He steps out to face the coming trial, shaking the proffered hand and saying the right things with insincere warmth, knowing the man before him holds him in contempt.
Family indeed.