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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12908-0.txt b/12908-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5260ee9 --- /dev/null +++ b/12908-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10765 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12908 *** + +MISSING + +by + +MRS. HUMPHRY WARD + +Author of "Robert Elsmere," "Lady Rose's Daughter," +"The Mating of Lydia," etc. + +Frontispiece in Colour by C. Allan Gilbert + + + + + + +[Illustration: _Deeply regret to inform you your husband reported +wounded and missing_] + + + + +PART I + +MISSING + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +'Shall I set the tea, Miss?' + +Miss Cookson turned from the window. + +'Yes--bring it up--except the tea of course--they ought to be here at +any time.' + +'And Mrs. Weston wants to know what time supper's to be?' + +The fair-haired girl speaking was clearly north-country. She pronounced +the 'u' in 'supper,' as though it were the German 'u' in _Suppe_. + +Miss Cookson shrugged her shoulders. + +'Well, they'll settle that.' + +The tone was sharp and off-hand. And the maid-servant, as she went +downstairs, decided for the twentieth time that afternoon, that she +didn't like Miss Cookson, and she hoped her sister, Mrs. Sarratt, would +be nicer. Miss Cookson had been poking her nose into everything that +afternoon, fiddling with the rooms and furniture, and interfering with +Mrs. Weston. As if Mrs. Weston didn't know what to order for lodgers, +and how to make them comfortable! As if she hadn't had dozens of brides +and bridegrooms to look after before this!--and if she hadn't given +them all satisfaction, would they ever have sent her all them +picture-postcards which decorated her little parlour downstairs? + +All the same, the house-parlourmaid, Milly by name, was a good deal +excited about this particular couple who were now expected. For Mrs. +Weston had told her it had been a 'war wedding,' and the bridegroom was +going off to the front in a week. Milly's own private affairs--in +connection with a good-looking fellow, formerly a gardener at Bowness, +now recently enlisted in one of the Border regiments--had caused her to +take a special interest in the information, and had perhaps led her to +put a bunch of monthly roses on Mrs. Sarratt's dressing-table. Miss +Cookson hadn't bothered herself about flowers. That she might have +done!--instead of fussing over things that didn't concern her--just for +the sake of ordering people about. + +When the little red-haired maid had left the room, the lady she disliked +returned to the window, and stood there absorbed in reflections that +were not gay, to judge from the furrowed brow and pinched lips that +accompanied them. Bridget Cookson was about thirty; not precisely +handsome, but at the same time, not ill-looking. Her eyes were large and +striking, and she had masses of dark hair, tightly coiled about her head +as though its owner felt it troublesome and in the way. She was thin, +but rather largely built, and her movements were quick and decided. Her +tweed dress was fashionably cut, but severely without small ornament of +any kind. + +She looked out upon a beautiful corner of English Lakeland. The house in +which she stood was built on the side of a little river, which, as she +saw it, came flashing and sparkling out of a lake beyond, lying in broad +strips of light and shade amid green surrounding fells. The sun was +slipping low, and would soon have kindled all the lake into a white +fire, in which its islands would have almost disappeared. But, for the +moment, everything was plain:--the sky, full of light, and filmy grey +cloud, the fells with their mingling of wood and purple crag, the +shallow reach of the river beyond the garden, with a little family of +wild duck floating upon it, and just below her a vivid splash of colour, +a mass of rhododendron in bloom, setting its rose-pink challenge against +the cool greys and greens of the fell. + +But Bridget Cookson was not admiring the view. It was not new to her, +and moreover she was not in love with Westmorland at all; and why Nelly +should have chosen this particular spot, to live in, while George was at +the war, she did not understand. She believed there was some sentimental +reason. They had first seen him in the Lakes--just before the war--when +they two girls and their father were staying actually in this very +lodging-house. But sentimental reasons are nothing. + +Well, the thing was done. Nelly was married, and in another week, George +would be at the front. Perhaps in a fortnight's time she would be a +widow. Such things have happened often. 'And then what shall I do with +her?' thought the sister, irritably,--recoiling from a sudden vision of +Nelly in sorrow, which seemed to threaten her own life with even greater +dislocation than had happened to it already. 'I must have my time to +myself!--freedom for what I want'--she thought to herself, impatiently, +'I can't be always looking after her.' + +Yet of course the fact remained that there was no one else to look after +Nelly. They had been left alone in the world for a good while now. Their +father, a Manchester cotton-broker in a small way, had died some six +months before this date, leaving more debts than fortune. The two girls +had found themselves left with very small means, and had lived, of late, +mainly in lodgings--unfurnished rooms--with some of their old furniture +and household things round them. Their father, though unsuccessful in +business, had been ambitious in an old-fashioned way for his children, +and they had been brought up 'as gentlefolks'--that is to say without +any trade or profession. + +But their poverty had pinched them disagreeably--especially Bridget, in +whom it had produced a kind of angry resentment. Their education had not +been serious enough, in these days of competition, to enable them to +make anything of teaching after their Father's death. Nelly's +water-colour drawing, for instance, though it was a passion with her, +was quite untrained, and its results unmarketable. Bridget had taken up +one subject after another, and generally in a spirit of antagonism to +her surroundings, who, according to her, were always 'interfering' with +what she wanted to do,--with her serious and important occupations. But +these occupations always ended by coming to nothing; so that, as Bridget +was irritably aware, even Nelly had ceased to be as much in awe of them +as she had once been. + +But the elder sister had more solid cause than this for dissatisfaction +with the younger. Nelly had really behaved like a little fool! The one +family asset of which a great deal might have been made--should have +been made--was Nelly's prettiness. She was _very_ pretty--absurdly +pretty--and had been a great deal run after in Manchester already. There +had been actually two proposals from elderly men with money, who were +unaware of the child's engagement, during the past three months; and +though these particular suitors were perhaps unattractive, yet a little +time and patience, and the right man would have come along, both +acceptable in himself, and sufficiently supplied with money to make +everything easy for everybody. + +But Nelly had just wilfully and stubbornly fallen in love with this +young man--and wilfully and stubbornly married him. It was unlike her to +be stubborn about anything. But in this there had been no moving her. +And now there was nothing before either of them but the same shabbiness +and penury as before. What if George had two hundred and fifty a year +of his own, besides his pay?--a fact that Nelly was always triumphantly +brandishing in her sister's eyes. + +No doubt it was more than most young subalterns had--much more. But what +was two hundred and fifty a year? Nelly would want every penny of it for +herself--and her child--or children. For of course there would be a +child--Bridget Cookson fell into profound depths of thought, emerging +from them, now as often before, with the sore realisation of how much +Nelly might have done with her 'one talent,' both for herself and her +sister, and had not done. + +The sun dropped lower; one side of the lake was now in shadow, and from +the green shore beneath the woods and rocks, the reflections of tree and +crag and grassy slope were dropping down and down, unearthly clear and +far, to that inverted heaven in the 'steady bosom' of the water. A +little breeze came wandering, bringing delicious scents of grass and +moss, and in the lake the fish were rising. + +Miss Cookson moved away from the window. How late they were! She would +hardly get home in time for her own supper. They would probably ask her +to stay and sup with them. But she did not intend to stay. Honeymooners +were much better left to themselves. Nelly would be a dreadfully +sentimental bride; and then dreadfully upset when George went away. She +had asked her sister to join them in the Lakes, and it was taken for +granted that they would resume living together after George's departure. +But Bridget had fixed her own lodgings, for the present, a mile away, +and did not mean to see much of her sister till the bridegroom had gone. + +There was the sound of a motor-car on the road, which ran along one side +of the garden, divided from it by a high wall. It could hardly be they; +for they were coming frugally by the coach. But Miss Cookson went across +to a side window looking on the road to investigate. + +At the foot of the hill opposite stood a luxurious car, waiting +evidently for the party which was now descending the hill towards it. +Bridget had a clear view of them, herself unseen behind Mrs. Weston's +muslin blinds. A girl was in front, with a young man in khaki, a +convalescent officer, to judge from his frail look and hollow eyes. The +girl was exactly like the fashion-plate in the morning's paper. She wore +a very short skirt and Zouave jacket in grey cloth, high-heeled grey +boots, with black tips and gaiters, a preposterous little hat perched on +one side of a broad white forehead, across which the hair was parted +like a boy's, and an ostrich plume on the top of the hat, which nodded +and fluttered so extravagantly that the face beneath almost escaped the +spectator's notice. Yet it was on the whole a handsome face, audacious, +like its owner's costume, and with evident signs--for Bridget Cookson's +sharp eyes--of slight make-up. + +Miss Cookson knew who she was. She had seen her in the neighbouring +town that morning, and had heard much gossip about her. She was Miss +Farrell, of Carton Hall, and that gentleman coming down the hill more +slowly behind her was no doubt her brother Sir William. + +Lame? That of course was the reason why he was not in the army. It was +not very conspicuous, but still quite definite. A stiff knee, Miss +Cookson supposed--an accident perhaps--some time ago. Lucky for him!--on +any reasonable view. Bridget Cookson thought the war 'odious,' and gave +no more attention to it than she could help. It had lasted now nearly a +year, and she was heartily sick of it. It filled the papers with +monotonous news which tired her attention--which she did not really try +to understand. Now she supposed she would have to understand it. For +George, her new brother-in-law, was sure to talk a terrible amount of +shop. + +Sir William was very tall certainly, and good-looking. He had a short +pointed beard, a ruddy, sunburnt complexion, blue eyes and broad +shoulders--the common points of the well-born and landowning +Englishman. Bridget looked at him with a mixture of respect and +hostility. To be rich was to be so far interesting; still all such +persons, belonging to a world of which she knew nothing, were in her +eyes 'swells,' and gave themselves airs; a procedure on their part, +which would be stopped when the middle and lower classes were powerful +enough to put them in their place. It was said, however, that this +particular man was rather a remarkable specimen of his kind--didn't +hunt--didn't preserve--had trained as an artist, and even exhibited. The +shopwoman in B---- from whom Miss Cookson derived her information about +the Farrells, had described Sir William as 'queer'--said everybody knew +he was 'queer.' Nobody could get him to do any county work. He hated +Committees, and never went near them. It was said he had been in love +and the lady had died. 'But if we all turned lazy for that kind of +thing!'--said the little shopwoman, shrugging her shoulders. Still the +Farrells were not unpopular. Sir William had a pleasant slow way of +talking, especially to the small folk; and he had just done something +very generous in giving up his house--the whole of his house--somewhere +Cockermouth way, to the War Office, as a hospital. As for his sister, +she seemed to like driving convalescent officers about, and throwing +away money on her clothes. There was no sign of 'war economy' about Miss +Farrell. + +Here, however, the shopwoman's stream of gossip was arrested by the +arrival of a new customer. Bridget was not sorry. She had not been at +all interested in the Farrells' idiosyncrasies; and she only watched +their preparations for departure now, for lack of something to do. The +chauffeur was waiting beside the car, and Miss Farrell got in first, +taking the front seat. Then Sir William, who had been loitering on the +hill, hurried down to give a helping hand to the young officer, who was +evidently only in the early stages of convalescence. After settling his +guest comfortably, he turned to speak to his chauffeur, apparently about +their road home, as he took a map out of his pocket. + +At this moment, a clatter of horses' hoofs and the rattle of a coach +were heard. Round the corner, swung the Windermere evening coach in fine +style, and drew up at the door of Mrs. Weston's lodgings, a little ahead +of the car. + +'There they are!' said Miss Cookson, excited in spite of herself. 'Well, +I needn't go down. George will bring in the luggage.' + +A young man and a young lady got up from their seats. A ladder was +brought for the lady to descend. But just as she was about to step on +it, a fidgeting horse in front made a movement, the ladder slipped, and +the lady was only just in time to withdraw her foot and save herself. + +Sir William Farrell, who had seen the little incident, ran forward, +while the man who had been placing the ladder went to the horse, which +was capering and trying to rear in his eagerness to be off. + +Sir William raised the ladder, and set it firmly against the coach. + +'I think you might risk it now,' he said, raising his eyes pleasantly to +the young person above him. + +'Thank you,' said a shy voice. Mrs. Sarratt turned round and descended. +Meanwhile the man holding the ladder saw an officer in khaki standing +on the top of the coach, and heard him address a word of laughing +encouragement to the lady. And no sooner had her feet touched the ground +than he was at her side in a trice. + +'Thank you, Sir!' he said, saluting. 'My wife was very nearly thrown +off. That horse has been giving trouble all the way.' + +'Must be content with what you can get, in war-time!' said the other +smiling, as he raised his hat to the young woman he had befriended, whom +he now saw plainly. 'And there are so few visitors at present in these +parts that what horses there are don't get enough to do.' + +The face turned upon him was so exquisite in line and colour that Sir +William, suddenly struck, instead of retreating to his car, lingered +while the soldier husband--a lieutenant, to judge from the stripes on +his cuff,--collected a rather large amount of luggage from the top of +the coach. + +'You must have had a lovely drive along Windermere,' said Sir William +politely. 'Let me carry that bag for you. You're stopping here?' + +'Yes--' said Mrs. Sarratt, distractedly, watching to see that the +luggage was all right. 'Oh, George, _do_ take care of that parcel!' + +'All right.' + +But she had spoken too late. As her husband, having handed over two suit +cases to Mrs. Weston's fourteen-year old boy, came towards her with a +large brown paper parcel, the string of it slipped, Mrs. Sarratt gave a +little cry, and but for her prompt rush to his assistance, its contents +would have descended into the road. But through a gap in the paper +various tin and china objects were disclosed. + +'That's your "cooker," Nelly,' said her husband laughing. 'I told you it +would bust the show!' + +But her tiny, deft fingers rapidly repaired the damage, and re-tied the +string while he assisted her. The coach drove off, and Sir William +patiently held the bag. Then she insisted on carrying the parcel +herself, and the lieutenant relieved Sir William. + +'Awfully obliged to you!' he said gratefully. 'Good evening! We're +stopping here for a bit' He pointed to the open door of the +lodging-house, where Mrs. Weston and the boy were grappling with the +luggage. + +'May I ask--' Sir William's smile as he looked from one to the other +expressed that loosening of conventions in which we have all lived since +the war--'Are you home on leave, or--' + +'I came home to be married,' said the young soldier, flushing slightly, +while his eyes crossed those of the young girl beside him. 'I've got a +week more.' + +'You've been out some time?' + +'Since last November. I got a scratch in the Ypres fight in April--oh, +nothing--a small flesh wound--but they gave me a month's leave, and my +medical board has only just passed me.' + +'Lanchesters?' said Sir William, looking at his cap. The other nodded +pleasantly. + +'Well, I am sure I hope you'll have good weather here,' said Sir +William, stepping back, and once more raising his hat to the bride. +'And--if there was Anything I could do to help your stay--' + +'Oh, thank you, Sir, but--' + +The pair smiled again at each other. Sir William understood, and smiled +too. A more engaging couple he thought he had never seen. The young man +was not exactly handsome, but he had a pair of charming hazel eyes, a +good-tempered mouth, and a really fine brow. He was tall too, and well +proportioned, and looked the pick of physical fitness. 'Just the kind of +splendid stuff we are sending out by the ship-load,' thought the elder +man, with a pang of envy--'And the girl's lovely!' + +She was at that moment bowing to him, as she followed her husband across +the road. A thought occurred to Sir William, and he pursued her. + +'I wonder--' he said diffidently--'if you care for boating--if you would +like to boat on the lake--' + +'Oh, but it isn't allowed!' She turned on him a pair of astonished eyes. + +'Not in general. Ah, I see you know these parts already. But I happen to +know the owner of the boathouse. Shall I get you leave?' + +'Oh, that _would_ be delightful!' she said, her face kindling with a +child's joyousness. 'That _is_ kind of you! Our name is Sarratt--my +husband is Lieutenant Sarratt.' + +--'Of the 21st Lanchesters? All right--I'll see to it!' + +And he ran back to his car, while the young people disappeared into the +little entrance hall of the lodging-house, and the door shut upon them. + +Miss Farrell received her brother with gibes. Trust William for finding +out a beauty! Who were they? + +Farrell handed on his information as the car sped along the Keswick +road. + +'Going back in a week, is he?' said the convalescent officer beside him. +Then, bitterly--'lucky dog!' + +Farrell looked at the speaker kindly. + +'What--with a wife to leave?' + +The boy, for he was little more, shrugged his shoulders. At that moment +he knew no passion but the passion for the regiment and his men, to whom +he couldn't get back, because his 'beastly constitution' wouldn't let +him recover as quickly as other men did. What did women matter?--when +the 'push' might be on, any day. + +Cicely Farrell continued to chaff her brother, who took it +placidly--fortified by a big cigar. + +'And if she'd been plain, Willy, you'd never have so much as known she +was there! Did you tell her you haunted these parts?' + +He shook his head. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile the bride and bridegroom had been met on the lodging-house +stairs by the bride's sister, who allowed herself to be kissed by the +bridegroom, and hugged by the bride. Her lack of effusion, however, made +little impression on the newcomers. They were in that state of happiness +which transfigures everything round it; they were delighted with the +smallest things; with the little lodging-house sitting room, its windows +open to the lake and river; with its muslin curtains, very clean and +white, its duster-rose too, just outside the window; with Mrs. Weston, +who in her friendly flurry had greeted the bride as 'Miss Nelly,' and +was bustling to get the tea; even, indeed, with Bridget Cookson's few +casual attentions to them. Mrs. Sarratt thought it 'dear' of Bridget to +have come to meet them, and ordered tea for them, and put those +delicious roses in her room-- + +'I didn't!' said Bridget, drily. 'That was Milly. It didn't occur to +me.' + +The bride looked a little checked. But then the tea came in, a real +Westmorland meal, with its toasted bun, its jam, and its 'twist' of new +bread; and Nelly Sarratt forgot everything but the pleasure of making +her husband eat, of filling his cup for him, of looking sometimes +through the window at that shining lake, beside which she and George +would soon be roaming--for six long days. Yes, and nights too. For there +was a moon rising, which would be at the full in two or three days. +Imagination flew forward, as she leant dreamily back in her chair when +the meal was over, her eyes on the landscape. They two alone--on that +warm summer lake--drifting in the moonlight--heart against heart, cheek +against cheek. A shiver ran through her, which was partly passion, +partly a dull fear. But she banished fear. Nothing--_nothing_ should +spoil their week together. + +'Darling!' said her husband, who had been watching her--'You're not very +tired?' He slipped his hand round hers, and her fingers rested in his +clasp, delighted to feel themselves so small, and his so strong. He had +spoken to her in the low voice that was hers alone. She was jealous lest +Bridget should have overheard it. But Bridget was at the other end of +the room. How foolish it had been of her--just because she was so happy, +and wanted to be nice to everybody!--to have asked Bridget to stay with +them! She was always doing silly things like that--impulsive things. But +now she was married. She must think more. It was really very considerate +of Bridget to have got them all out of a difficulty and to have settled +herself a mile away from them; though at first it had seemed rather +unkind. Now they could see her always sometime in the day, but not so as +to interfere. She was afraid Bridget and George would never really get +on, though she--Nelly--wanted to forget all the unpleasantness there had +been,--to forget everything--everything but George. The fortnight's +honeymoon lay like a haze of sunlight between her and the past. + +But Bridget had noticed the voice and the clasped hands,--with +irritation. Really, after a fortnight, they might have done with that +kind of demonstrativeness. All the same, Nelly was quite extraordinarily +pretty--prettier than ever. While the sister was slowly putting on her +hat before the only mirror the sitting-room possessed, she was keenly +conscious of the two figures near the window, of the man in khaki +sitting on the arm of Nelly's chair, holding her hand, and looking down +upon her, of Nelly's flushed cheek and bending head. What a baby she +looked!--scarcely seventeen. Yet she was really twenty-one--old enough, +by a long way, to have done better for herself than this! Oh, George, in +himself, was well enough. If he came back from the war, his new-made +sister-in-law supposed she would get used to him in time. Bridget +however did not find it easy to get on with men, especially young men, +of whom she knew very few. For eight or ten years now, she had looked +upon them chiefly as awkward and inconvenient facts in women's lives. +Before that time, she could remember a few silly feelings on her own +part, especially with regard to a young clerk of her father's, who had +made love to her up to the very day when he shamefacedly told her that +he was already engaged, and would soon be married. That event had been a +shock to her, and had made her cautious and suspicious towards men ever +since. Her life was now full of quite other interests--incoherent and +changeable, but strong while they lasted. Nelly's state of bliss awoke +no answering sympathy in her. + +'Well, good-bye, Nelly,' she said, when she had put on her +things--advancing towards them, while the lieutenant rose to his feet. +'I expect Mrs. Weston will make you comfortable. I ordered in all the +things for to-morrow.' + +'Everything's _charming_!' said Nelly, as she put her arms round her +sister. 'It was awfully good of you to see to it all. Will you come over +to lunch to-morrow? We might take you somewhere.' + +'Oh, don't bother about me! You won't want me. I'll look in some time. +I've got a lot of work to do.' + +Nelly withdrew her arms. George Sarratt surveyed his sister-in-law with +curiosity. + +'Work?' he repeated, with his pleasant, rather puzzled smile. + +'What are you doing now, Bridget?' said Nelly, softly, stroking the +sleeve of her sister's jacket, but really conscious only of the man +beside her. + +'Reading some proof-sheets for a friend,' was the rather short reply, as +Bridget released herself. + +'Something dreadfully difficult?' laughed Nelly. + +'I don't know what you mean by difficult,' said Bridget ungraciously, +looking for her gloves. 'It's psychology--that's all. Lucy Fenn's +bringing out another volume of essays.' + +'It sounds awful!' said George Sarratt, laughing. 'I wish I knew what +psychology was about. But can't you take a holiday?--just this week?' + +He looked at her rather gravely. But Bridget shook her head, and again +said good-bye. George Sarratt took her downstairs, and saw her off on +her bicycle. Then he returned smiling, to his wife. + +'I say, Bridget makes me feel a dunce! Is she really such a learned +party?' + +Nelly's dark eyes danced a little. 'I suppose she is--but she doesn't +stick to anything. It's always something different. A few months ago, it +was geology; and we used to go out for walks with a hammer and a bag. +Last year it was _the_-ology! Our poor clergyman, Mr. Richardson, was no +match for Bridget at all. She could always bowl him over.' + +'Somehow all the "ologies" seem very far away--don't they?' murmured +Sarratt, after they had laughed together. They were standing at the +window again, his arm close round her, her small dark head pressed +against him. There was ecstasy in their nearness to each other--in the +silver beauty of the lake--in the soft coming of the June evening; and +in that stern fact itself that in one short week, he would have left +her, would be facing death or mutilation, day after day, in the trenches +on the Ypres salient. While he held her, all sorts of images flitted +through his mind--of which he would not have told her for the +world--horrible facts of bloody war. In eight months he had seen plenty +of them. The signs of them were graven on his young face, on his eyes, +round which a slight permanent frown, as of perplexity, seemed to have +settled, and on his mouth which was no longer naif and boyish, but would +always drop with repose into a hard compressed line. + +Nelly looked up. + +'Everything's far away'--she whispered--'but this--and you!' He kissed +her upturned lips--and there was silence. + +Then a robin singing outside in the evening hush, sent a message to +them. Nelly with an effort drew herself away. + +'Shan't we go out? We'll tell Mrs. Weston to put supper on the table, +and we can come in when we like. But I'll just unpack a little first--in +our room.' + +She disappeared through a door at the end of the sitting-room. Her last +words--softly spoken--produced a kind of shock of joy in Sarratt. He sat +motionless, hearing the echo of them, till she reappeared. When she came +back, she had taken off her serge travelling dress and was wearing a +little gown of some white cotton stuff, with a blue cloak, the evening +having turned chilly, and a hat with a blue ribbon. In this garb she was +a vision of innocent beauty; wherein refinement and a touch of +strangeness combined with the dark brilliance of eyes and hair, with the +pale, slightly sunburnt skin, the small features and tiny throat, to +rivet the spectator. And she probably knew it, for she flushed slightly +under her husband's eyes. + +'Oh, what a paradise!' she said, under her breath, pointing to the scene +beyond the window. Then--lifting appealing hands to him--'Take me +there!' + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The newly-married pair crossed a wooden bridge over the stream from the +Lake, and found themselves on its further shore, a shore as untouched +and unspoilt now as when Wordsworth knew it, a hundred years ago. The +sun had only just vanished out of sight behind the Grasmere fells, and +the long Westmorland after-glow would linger for nearly a couple of +hours yet. After much rain the skies were clear, and all the omens fair. +But the rain had left its laughing message behind; in the full river, in +the streams leaping down the fells, in the freshness of every living +thing--the new-leafed trees, the grass with its flowers, the rushes +spreading their light armies through the flooded margins of the lake, +and bending to the light wind, which had just, as though in mischief, +blotted out the dream-world in the water, and set it rippling eastwards +in one sheet of living silver, broken only by a cloud-shadow at its +further end. Fragrance was everywhere--from the trees, the young fern, +the grass; and from the shining west, the shadowed fells, the brilliant +water, there breathed a voice of triumphant beauty, of unconquered +peace, which presently affected George Sarratt strangely. + +They had just passed through a little wood; and in its friendly gloom, +he had put his arm round his wife so that they had lingered a little, +loth to leave its shelter. But now they had emerged again upon the +radiance of the fell-side, and he had found a stone for Nelly to rest +on. + +'That those places in France, and that sky--should be in the same +world!' he said, under his breath, pointing to the glow on the eastern +fells, as he threw himself down on the turf beside her. + +Her face flushed with exercise and happiness suddenly darkened. + +'Don't--don't talk of them to-night!'--she said passionately--'not +to-night--just to-night, George!' + +And she stooped impetuously to lay her hand on his lips. He kissed the +hand, held it, and remained silent, his eyes fixed upon the lake. On +that day week he would probably just have rejoined his regiment. It was +somewhere in the neighbourhood of Bailleul. Hot work, he heard, was +expected. There was still a scandalous shortage of ammunition--and if +there was really to be a 'push,' the losses would be appalling. Man +after man that he knew had been killed within a week--two or three +days--twenty-four hours even!--of rejoining. Supposing that within a +fortnight Nelly sat here, looking at this lake, with the War Office +telegram in her hand--'Deeply regret to inform you, etc.' This was not a +subject on which he had ever allowed himself to dwell, more than in his +changed circumstances he was bound to dwell. Every soldier, normally, +expects to get through. But of course he had done everything that was +necessary for Nelly. His will was in the proper hands; and the night +before their wedding he had written a letter to her, to be given her if +he fell. Otherwise he had taken little account of possible death; nor +had it cost him any trouble to banish the thought of it. + +But the beauty of the evening--of this old earth, which takes no account +of the perishing of men--and Nelly's warm life beside him, hanging upon +his, perhaps already containing within it the mysterious promise of +another life, had suddenly brought upon him a tremor of soul--an inward +shudder. Did he really believe in existence after death--in a meeting +again, in some dim other scene, if they were violently parted now? He +had been confirmed while at school. His parents were Church people of a +rather languid type, and it seemed the natural thing to do. Since then +he had occasionally taken the Communion, largely to please an elder +school-friend, who was ardently devout, and was now a Chaplain on the +Western front. But what did it really mean to him?--what would it mean +to _her_--if she were left alone? Images passed through his mind--the +sights of the trenches--shattered and dying bodies. What was the +_soul_?--had it really an independent life? _Something_ there was in +men--quite rough and common men--something revealed by war and the +sufferings of war--so splendid, so infinitely beyond anything he had +ever dreamed of in ordinary life, that to think of it roused in him a +passion of hidden feeling--perhaps adoration--but vague and +speechless--adoration of he knew not what. He did not speak easily of +his feeling, even to his young wife, to whom marriage had so closely, so +ineffably bound him. But as he lay on the grass looking up at +her--smiling--obeying her command of silence, his thoughts ranged +irrepressibly. Supposing he fell, and she lived on--years and years--to +be an old woman? Old! Nelly? Impossible! He put his hand gently on the +slender foot, and felt the pulsing life in it. 'Dearest!' she murmured +at his touch, and their eyes met tenderly. + +'I should be content--' he thought--'if we could just live _this_ life +out! I don't believe I should want another life. But to go--and leave +her; to go--just at the beginning--before one knows anything--before one +has finished anything--' + +And again his eyes wandered from her to the suffusion of light and +colour on the lake. 'How could anyone ever want anything better than +this earth--this life--at its best--if only one were allowed a full and +normal share of it!' And he thought again, almost with a leap of +exasperation, of those dead and mangled men--out there--in France. Who +was responsible--God?--or man? But man's will is--must be--something +dependent--something included in God's will. If God really existed, and +if He willed war, and sudden death--then there must be another life. Or +else the power that devised the world was not a good, but an evil--at +best, a blind one. + +But while his young brain was racing through the old puzzles in the old +ways, Nelly was thinking of something quite different. Her delicate +small face kept breaking into little smiles with pensive intervals--till +at last she broke out-- + +'Do you remember how I caught you--turning back to look after us--just +here--just about here? You had passed that thorn tree--' + +He came back to love-making with delight. + +'"Caught me!" I like that! As if you weren't looking back too! How else +did you know anything about me?' + +He had taken his seat beside her on the rock, and her curly black head +was nestling against his shoulder. There was no one on the mountain +path, no one on the lake. Occasionally from the main road on the +opposite shore there was a passing sound of wheels. Otherwise the world +was theirs--its abysses of shadow, its 'majesties of light.' + +She laughed joyously, not attempting to contradict him. It was on this +very path, just two months before the war, that they had first seen each +other. She with her father and Bridget were staying at Mrs. Weston's +lodgings, because she, Nelly, had had influenza, and the doctor had sent +her away for a change. They knew the Lakes well already, as is the way +of Manchester folk. Their father, a hard-worked, and often melancholy +man, had delighted in them, summer and winter, and his two girls had +trudged about the fells with him year after year, and wanted nothing +different or better. At least, Nelly had always been content. Bridget +had grumbled often, and proposed Blackpool, or Llandudno, or Eastbourne +for a change. But their father did not like 'crowds.' They came to the +Lakes always before or after the regular season. Mr. Cookson hated the +concourse of motorists in August, and never would use one himself. Not +even when they went from Ambleside to Keswick. They must always walk, or +go by the horse-coach. + +Nelly presently looked up, and gave a little pull to the corner of her +husband's moustache. + +'Of course you know you behaved abominably that next day at Wythburn! +You kept that whole party waiting while you ran after us. And I hadn't +dropped that bag. You knew very well I hadn't dropped it!' + +He chuckled. + +'It did as well as anything else. I got five minutes' talk with you. I +found out where you lodged.' + +'Poor papa!'--said Nelly reflectively--'he was so puzzled. "There's that +fellow we saw at Wythburn again! Why on earth does he come here to fish? +I never saw anybody catch a thing in this bit of the river." Poor papa!' + +They were both silent a little. Mr. Cookson had not lived long enough to +see Nelly and George Sarratt engaged. The war had killed him. Financial +embarrassment was already closing on him when it broke out, and he +could not stand the shock and the general dislocation of the first +weeks, as sounder men could. The terror of ruin broke him down--and he +was dead before Christmas, nominally of bronchitis and heart failure. +Nelly had worn mourning for him up to her wedding day. She had been very +sorry for 'poor papa'--and very fond of him; whereas Bridget had been +rather hard on him always. For really he had done his best. After all he +had left them just enough to live upon. Nelly's conscience, grown +tenderer than of old under the touch of joy, pricked her as she thought +of her father. She knew he had loved her best of his two daughters. She +would always remember his last lingering hand-clasp, always be thankful +for his last few words--'God bless you, dear.' But had she cared for him +enough in return?--had she really tried to understand him? Some +vague sense of the pathos of age--of its isolation--its dumb +renouncements--gripped her. If he had only lived longer! He would have +been so proud of George. + +She roused herself. + +'You did really make up your mind--_then_?' she asked him, just for the +pleasure of hearing him confess it again. + +'Of course I did! But what was the good?' + +She knew that he meant it had been impossible to speak while his mother +was still alive, and he, her only child, was partly dependent upon her. +But his mother had died not long after Nelly's father, and her little +income had come to her son. So now what with Nelly's small portion, and +his mother's two hundred and fifty a year in addition to his pay, the +young subaltern thought himself almost rich--in comparison with so many +others. His father, who had died while he was still at school, had been +a master at Harrow, and he had been brought up in a refined home, with +high standards and ideals. A scholarship at Oxford at one of the smaller +colleges, a creditable degree, then an opening in the office of a +well-known firm of solicitors, friends of his father, and a temporary +commission, as soon as war broke out, on his record as a keen and +diligent member of the Harrow and Oxford O.T.C.'s:--these had been the +chief facts of his life up to August 1914;--that August which covered +the roads leading to the Aldershot headquarters, day by day, with the +ever-renewed columns of the army to be, with masses of marching men, +whose eager eyes said one thing only--'_Training_!--_training_!' + +The war, and the causes of the war, had moved his nature, which was +sincere and upright, profoundly; all the more perhaps because of a +certain kindling and awakening of the whole man, which had come from his +first sight of Nelly Cookson in the previous June, and from his growing +friendship with her--which he must not yet call love. He had decided +however after three meetings with her that he would never marry anyone +else. Her softness, her yieldingness, her delicate beauty intoxicated +him. He rejoiced that she was no 'new woman,' but only a very girlish +and undeveloped creature, who would naturally want his protection as +well as his love. For it was his character to protect and serve. He had +protected and served his mother--faithfully and well. And as she was +dying, he had told her about Nelly--not before; only to find that she +knew it all, and that the only soreness he had ever caused her came from +the secrecy which he had tenderly thought her due. + +But for all his sanity and sweet temper there was a hard tough strain in +him, which had made war so far, even through the horrors of it, a great +absorbing game to him, for which he knew himself fitted, in which he +meant to excel. Several times during the fighting that led up to Neuve +Chapelle he had drawn the attention of his superiors, both for bravery +and judgment; and after Neuve Chapelle, he had been mentioned in +despatches. He had never yet known fear in the field--never even such a +shudder at the unknown--which was yet the possible!--as he had just been +conscious of. His nerves had always been strong, his nature was in the +main simple. Yet for him, as well as for so many other 'fellows' he +knew, the war had meant a great deal of this new and puzzled +thinking--on problems of right and wrong, of 'whence' and 'whither,' of +the personal value of men--this man, or that man. By George, war brought +them out!--these personal values. And the general result for him, up to +now,--had he been specially lucky?--had been a vast increase of faith in +his fellow men, yes, and faith in himself, modest as he was. He was +proud to be an English soldier--proud to the roots of his being. His +quiet patriotism had become a passion; he knew now in what he had +believed. + +Yes--England for ever! An English home after the war--and English +children. Oh, he hoped Nelly would have children! As he held her pressed +against him, he seemed to see her in the future--with the small things +round her. But he did not speak of it. + +She meanwhile was thinking of quite other things, and presently she said +in a quick, troubled voice-- + +'George!--while you are away--you don't want me to do munitions?' + +He laughed out. + +'Munitions! I see you at a lathe! Dear--I don't think you'd earn your +keep!' And he lifted her delicate arm and tiny hand, and looked at them +with scientific curiosity. Her frail build was a constant wonder and +pleasure to him. But small as she was, there was something unusual, some +prophecy, perhaps, of developments to come, in the carriage of her head, +and in some of her looks. Her education had been extremely slight, many +of her ideas were still childish, and the circle from which she came had +been inferior in birth and breeding to his own. But he had soon realised +on their honeymoon, in spite of her simple talk, that she was very +quick--very intelligent. + +'Because--' she went on, doubtfully--'there are so many other things I +could do--quite useful things. There's sphagnum moss! Everybody up here +is gathering sphagnum moss--you know--for bandages--upon the fells. I +daresay Bridget might help in that. She won't do any other sort of +war-work.' + +'Why, I thought all women were doing some kind of war-work!' + +'Bridget won't. She doesn't want to hear about the war at all. She's +bored with it.' + +'Bored with it! Good heavens!' Sarratt's countenance clouded. +'Darling--that'll be rather hard on you, if you and she are going to +live together.' + +Nelly lifted her head from his shoulder, and looked at him rather +gravely. + +'I'm afraid you don't know much about Bridget, George. She's,--well, +she's--one of the--oddest women you ever met.' + +'So it seems! But why is she bored with the war?' + +'Well--you see--it doesn't matter to _her_ in any way--and she doesn't +want it to matter to her. There's nobody in it she cares about.' + +'Thanks!' laughed Sarratt. But Nelly still grave, shook her head. 'Oh, +she's not the least like other people. She won't care about you, George, +just because you've married me. And--' + +'And what? Is she still angry with me for not being rich?' + +And his thoughts went back to his first interview with Bridget +Cookson--on the day when their engagement was announced. He could see +the tall sharp-featured woman now, standing with her back to the light +in the little sitting-room of the Manchester lodgings. She had not been +fierce or abusive at all. She had accepted it quietly--with only a few +bitter sentences. + +'All right, Mr. Sarratt. I have nothing to say. Nelly must please +herself. But you've done her an injury! There are plenty of rich men +that would have married her. You're very poor--and so are we.' + +When the words were spoken, Nelly had just accepted him; she was her own +mistress; he had not therefore taken her sister's disapproval much to +heart. Still the words had rankled. + +'Darling!--when I made you marry me--_did_ I do you an injury?' he said +suddenly, as they were walking again hand in hand along the high green +path with the lake at their feet, and a vision of blue and rose before +them, in the shadowed western mountains, the lower grounds steeped in +fiery light, and the red reflections in the still water. + +'What _do_ you mean?' said Nelly, turning upon him a face of wonder. + +'Well, that was what Bridget said to me, when I told her that you had +accepted me. But I was a great fool to tell you, darling! I'm sorry I +did. It was only--' + +'"Injury,"' repeated Nelly, not listening to him. 'Oh, yes, of course +that was money. Bridget says it's all nonsense talking about honour, or +love, or that kind of thing. Everything is really money. It was money +that began this war. The Germans wanted our trade and our money--and we +were determined they shouldn't have them--and that's all there is in it. +With money you can have everything you want and a jolly life--and +without money you can have nothing,--and are just nobody. When that rich +old horror wanted to marry me last year in Manchester, Bridget thought +me perfectly mad to refuse him. She didn't speak to me for a week. Of +course he would have provided for her too.' + +Sarratt had flushed hotly; but he spoke good-naturedly. + +'Well, that was a miss for her--I quite see that. But after all we can +help her a bit. We shall always feel that we must look after her. And +why shouldn't she herself marry?' + +Nelly laughed. + +'Never! She hates men.' + +There was a silence a moment. And then Sarratt said, rather gravely--'I +say, darling, if she's going to make you miserable while I am away, +hadn't we better make some other arrangement? I thought of course she +would be good to you, and look after you! Naturally any sister would, +that was worth her salt!' + +And he looked down indignantly on the little figure beside him. But it +roused Nelly's mirth that he should put it in that way. + +'George,--you _are_ such a darling!--and--and, such a goose!' She rubbed +her cheek against his arm as though to take the edge off the epithet. +'The idea of Bridget's wanting to "look after" me! She'll want to +_manage_ me of course--and I'd much better let her do it. I don't mind!' +And the speaker gave a long, sudden sigh. + +'But I won't have you troubled and worried, when I'm not there to +protect you!' cried Sarratt, fiercely. 'You could easily find a friend.' + +But Nelly shook her head. + +'Oh, no. That wouldn't do. Bridget and I always get on, George. We never +quarrelled--except when I stuck to marrying you. Generally--I always +give in. It doesn't matter. It answers perfectly.' + +She spoke with a kind of languid softness which puzzled him. + +'But now you can't always give in, dearest! You belong to me!' And his +grasp tightened on the hand he held. + +'I can give in enough--to keep the peace,' said Nelly slowly. 'And if +you weren't here, it wouldn't be natural that I shouldn't live with +Bridget. I'm used to her. Only I want to make you understand her, +darling. She's not a bit like--well, like the people you admire, and its +no good expecting her to be.' + +'I shall talk to her before I go!' he said, half laughing, half +resolved. + +Nelly looked alarmed. + +'No--please don't! She always gets the better of people who scold her. +Or if you were to get the better, then she'd visit it on me. And now +don't let's talk of her any more! What were we saying? Oh, I know--what +I was to do. Let's sit down again,--there's a rock, made for us.' + +And on a natural seat under a sheltering rock canopied and hung with +fern, the two rested once more, wrapped in one cloak, close beside the +water, which was quiet again, and crossed by the magical lights and +splendid shadows of the dying sunset. Nelly had been full of plans when +they sat down, but the nearness of the man she loved, his arm round her, +his life beating as it were in one pulse with hers, intoxicated, and for +a time silenced her. She had taken off her hat, and she lay quietly +against him in the warm shelter of the cloak. He thought presently she +was asleep. How small and dear she was! He bent over her, watching as +closely as the now dim light allowed, the dark eyelashes lying on her +cheek, her closed mouth, and soft breathing. His very own!--the thought +was ecstasy--he forgot the war, and the few days left him. + +But this very intensity of brooding love in which he held her, made her +restless after a little. She sat up, and smiled at him-- + +'We must go home!--Yes, we must. But look!--there is a boat!' + +And only a few yards from them, emerging from the shadows, they saw a +boat rocking gently at anchor beside a tiny landing-stage. Nelly sprang +to her feet. + +'George!--suppose you were just to row us out--there--into the light!' + +But when they came to the boat they found it pad-locked to a post in the +little pier. + +'Ah, well, never mind,' said Nelly--'I'm sure that man won't forget?' + +'That man who spoke to us? Who was he?' + +'Oh, I found out from Bridget, and Mrs. Weston. He's Sir William +Farrell, a great swell, tremendously rich. He has a big place somewhere, +out beyond Keswick, beyond Bassenthwaite. You saw he had a stiff knee?' + +'Yes. Can't fight, I suppose--poor beggar! He was very much struck by +_you_, Mrs. George Sarratt!--that was plain.' + +Nelly laughed--a happy childish laugh. + +'Well, if he does get us leave to boat, you needn't mind, need you? What +else, I wonder, could he do for us?' + +'Nothing!' The tone was decided. 'I don't like being beholden to great +folk. But that, I suppose, is the kind of man whom Bridget would have +liked you to marry, darling?' + +'As if he would ever have looked at me!' said Nelly tranquilly. 'A man +like that may be as rich as rich, but he would never marry a poor wife.' + +'Thank God, I don't believe money will matter nearly as much to people, +after the war!' said Sarratt, with energy. 'It's astonishing how now, in +the army--of course it wasn't the same before the war--you forget it +entirely. Who cares whether a man's rich, or who's son he is? In my +batch when I went up to Aldershot there were men of all sorts, +stock-brokers, landowners, city men, manufacturers, solicitors, some of +them awfully rich, and then clerks, and schoolmasters, and lots of poor +devils, like myself. We didn't care a rap, except whether a man took to +his drill, or didn't; whether he was going to keep the Company back or +help it on. And it's just the same in the field. Nothing counts but what +you _are_--it doesn't matter a brass hap'orth what you have. And as the +new armies come along that'll be so more and more. It's "Duke's son and +Cook's son," everywhere, and all the time. If it was that in the South +African war, it's twenty times that now. This war is bringing the nation +together as nothing ever has done, or could do. War is hellish!--but +there's a deal to be said for it!' + +He spoke with ardour, as they strolled homeward, along the darkening +shore, she hanging on his arm. Nelly said nothing. Her little face +showed very white in the gathering shadows. He went on. + +'There was a Second Lieutenant in our battalion, an awfully handsome +boy--heir to a peerage I think. But he couldn't get a commission quick +enough to please him when the war broke out, so he just enlisted--oh! of +course they've given him a commission long ago. But his great friend was +a young miner, who spoke broad Northumberland, a jolly chap. And these +two stuck together--we used to call them the Heavenly Twins. And in the +fighting round Hill 60, the miner got wounded, and lay out between the +lines, with the Boche shells making hell round him. And the other fellow +never rested till he'd crawled out to him, and taken him water, and tied +him up, and made a kind of shelter for him. The miner was a big fellow, +and the other was just a slip of a boy. So he couldn't drag in his +friend, but he got another man to go out with him, and between them they +did it right enough. And when I was in the clearing station next day, I +saw the two--the miner in bed, awfully smashed up, and the other sitting +by him. It made one feel choky. The boy could have put down a cool +hundred thousand, I suppose, if it could have done any good. But it +wouldn't. I can tell you, darling, this war knocks the nonsense out of a +man!' + +'But Bridget is a woman!' said a dreamy voice beside him. + +Sarratt laughed; but he was launched on recollections and could not stop +himself. Apparently everybody in his company was a hero, and had +deserved the Military Cross ten times over, except himself. He described +some incidents he had personally seen, and through the repressed fire +with which he spoke, the personality and ideals of the man revealed +themselves--normal, strong, self-forgetting. Had he even forgotten the +little creature beside him? Hardly, for instinctively he softened away +some of the terrible details of blood and pain. But he had forgotten +Nelly's prohibition. And when again they had entered the dark wood which +lay between them and the cottage on the river-bank, suddenly he heard a +trembling breath, and a sob. + +He caught her in his arms. + +'Nelly, darling! Oh, I was a brute to talk to you like this.' + +'No,' she said, struggling with herself--'No! Wait a moment.' She lay +against him trembling through every limb, while he kissed and comforted +her. + +'I'm--I'm not a coward, George!' she said at last, gasping,--'I'm not +indeed. Only--well, this morning I had about a hundred and seventy hours +left--I counted them. And now there are fifteen less. And all the time, +while we talk, they are slipping away, so quick--so quick--' + +But she was regaining self-control, and soon released herself. + +'I won't do it again!' she said piteously, in the tone of a penitent +child. 'I won't indeed. Let's go home. I'm all right.' + +And home they sped, hand in hand, silently. The little room when they +re-entered it was bright with firelight, because kind Mrs. Weston had +thought the flight chilly, and the white table laid out for them--its +pretty china and simple fare--tempted and cheered them with its look of +home. But Nelly lay on the sofa afterwards very pale, though smiling and +talking as usual. And through the night she was haunted, sleeping and +waking, by the image of the solitary boat rocking gently on the moonlit +lake, the water lapping its sides. She saw herself and George adrift in +it--sailing into--disappearing in--that radiance of silver light. +Sleepily she hoped that Sir William Farrell would not forget his +promise. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +May I come in?' + +Nelly Sarratt, who was standing beside the table in the sitting-room, +packing a small luncheon-basket with sandwiches and cake, looked up in +astonishment. Then she went to the door which was slightly ajar, and +opened it. + +She beheld a very tall man standing smiling on the threshold. + +'I hope I'm not disturbing you, Mrs. Sarratt--but I was on my way for a +day's sketching, and as my car passed your house, I thought I would like +to bring you, myself, the permission which I spoke of on Saturday. I +wrote yesterday, my friend was away from home but I got a telegram this +morning.' + +The visitor held out a telegram, which Nelly took in some bewilderment. +It fluttered her to be so much thought for by a stranger--and a stranger +moreover who seemed but to wave his wand and things were done. But she +thanked him heartily. + +'Won't you come in, Sir William?' she asked him, shyly. 'My husband will +be here directly.' + +It pleased him that she had found out who he was. He protested that he +mustn't stay a moment, but all the same he came in, and stood with his +hands in his pockets looking at the view. He seemed to Nelly to fill the +little sitting-room. Not that he was stout. There was not an ounce of +superfluous flesh on him anywhere. But he stood at least six foot four +in his boots; his shoulders were broad in proportion; and his head, with +its strong curly hair of a light golden brown, which was repeated in his +short beard, carried itself with the unconscious ease of one who has +never known anything but the upper seats of life. His features were +handsome, except for a broad irregular mouth, and his blue eyes were +kind and lazily humorous. + +'There's nothing better than that lake,' he said, motioning towards it, +with his hand, as though he followed the outlines of the hills. 'But I +never try to draw it. I leave that to the fellows who think they can! +I'm afraid your permit's only for a week, Mrs. Sarratt. The boat, I +find, will be wanted after that.' + +'Oh, but my husband will be gone in a week--less than a week. I couldn't +row myself!' said Nelly, smiling. + +But Sir William thought the smile trembled a little, and he felt very +sorry for the small, pretty creature. + +'You will be staying on here after your husband goes?' + +'Oh yes. My sister will be with me. We know the Lakes very well.' + +'Staying through the summer, I suppose?' 'I shan't want to move--if the +war goes on. We haven't any home of our own--yet.' + +She had seated herself, and spoke with the self-possession which belongs +to those who know themselves fair to look upon. But there seemed to be +no coquetry about her--no consciousness of a male to be attracted. All +her ways were very gentle and childish, and in her white dress she made +the same impression on Farrell as she had on Bridget, of +extreme--absurd--youthfulness. He guessed her age about nineteen, +perhaps younger. + +'I'm afraid the war will go on,' he said, kindly. 'We are only now just +finding out our deficiencies.' + +Nelly sighed. + +'I know--it's _awful_ how we want guns and shells! My husband says it +makes him savage to see how we lose men for want of them. _Why_ are we +so short? Whose fault is it?' + +A spot of angry colour had risen in her cheek. It was the dove defending +her mate. The change was lovely, and Farrell, with his artist's eye, +watched it eagerly. But he shook his head. + +'It's nobody's fault. It's all on such a scale--unheard of! Nobody could +have guessed before-hand--unless like Germany, we had been preparing for +years to rob and murder our neighbours. Well, Mrs. Sarratt, I must be +going on. But I wanted to say, that if we could do anything for +you--please command us. We live about twenty miles from here. My sister +hopes she may come and see you. And we have a big library at Carton. If +there are any books you want--' + +'Oh, how _very_ kind of you!' said Nelly gratefully. She had risen and +was standing beside him, looking at him with her dark, frank eyes. 'But +indeed I shall get on very well. There's a war workroom in Manchester, +which will send me work. And I shall try and help with the sphagnum +moss. There's a notice up near here, asking people to help. 'And +perhaps'--she laughed and colored--'I shall try to sketch a little. I +can't do it a bit--but it amuses me.' + +'Oh, you _draw_?' said Farrell, with a smile. Then, looking round him, +he noticed a portfolio on the table, with a paint box beside it. 'May I +look?' + +With rather red cheeks, Nelly showed her performances. She knew very +well, being accustomed to follow such things in the newspapers, that Sir +William Farrell had exhibited both in London and Manchester, and was +much admired by some of the critics. + +Farrell twisted his mouth over them a good deal, considering them +carefully. + +'Yes, I see--I see exactly where you are. Not bad at all, some of them. +I could lend you some things which would help you I think. Ah, here is +your husband.' + +George Sarratt entered, looking in some surprise at their very prompt +visitor, and a little inclined to stand on his guard against a patronage +that might be troublesome. But Farrell explained himself so +apologetically that the young man could only add his very hearty thanks +to his wife's. + +'Well, I really _must_ be off,' said Farrell again, looking for his hat. +'And I see you are going out for the day.' He glanced at the lunch +preparations. 'Do you know Loughrigg Tarn?' He turned to Nelly. + +'Oh, yes!' Her face glowed. 'Isn't it beautiful? But I don't think +George knows it.' She looked up at him. He smiled and shook his head. + +'I have a cottage there,' said Farrell, addressing Sarratt. 'Wordsworth +said it was like Nemi. It isn't:--but it's beautiful all the same. I +wish you would bring your wife there to tea with me one day before you +go? There is an old woman who looks after me. This view is fine'--he +pointed to the window--'but I think mine is finer.' + +'Thank you,' said Sarratt, rather formally--'but I am afraid our days +are getting pretty full.' + +'Of course, of course!' said Sir William, smiling. 'I only meant, if you +happened to be walking in that direction and want a rest. I have a +number of drawings there--my own and other people's, which Mrs. Sarratt +might care to see--sometime. You go on Saturday?' + +'Yes. I'm due to rejoin by Monday.' + +Farrell's expression darkened. + +'You see what keeps me?' he said, sharply, striking his left knee with +the flat of his hand. 'I had a bad fall, shooting in Scotland, years +ago--when I was quite a lad. Something went wrong in the knee-cap. The +doctors muffed it, and I have had a stiff knee ever since. I daresay +they'd give me work at the War Office--or the Admiralty. Lots of fellows +I know who can't serve are doing war-work of that kind. But I can't +stand office work--never could. It makes me ill, and in a week of it I +am fit to hang myself. I live out of doors. I've done some +recruiting--speaking for the Lord Lieutenant. But I can't speak worth a +cent--and I do no good. No fellow ever joined up because of my +eloquence!--couldn't if he tried. No--I've given up my house--it was the +best thing I could do. It's a jolly house, and I've got lots of jolly +things in it. But the War Office and I between us have turned it into a +capital hospital. We take men from the Border regiments mostly. I wonder +if I shall ever be able to live in it again! My sister and I are now in +the agent's house. I work at the hospital three or four days a week--and +then I come here and sketch. I don't see why I shouldn't.' + +He straightened his shoulder as though defying somebody. Yet there was +something appealing, and, as it were, boyish, in the defiance. The man's +patriotic conscience could be felt struggling with his dilettantism. +Sarratt suddenly liked him. + +'No, indeed,' he said heartily. 'Why shouldn't you?' 'It's when one +thinks of _your_ job, one feels a brute to be doing anything one likes.' + +'Well, you'd be doing the same job if you could. That's all right!' said +Sarratt smiling. + +It was curious how in a few minutes the young officer had come to seem +the older and more responsible of the two men. Yet Farrell was clearly +his senior by some ten or fifteen years. Instinctively Nelly moved +nearer to George. She liked to feel how easily he could hold his own +with great people, who made _her_ feel nervous. For she understood from +Mrs. Weston that the Farrells were very great people indeed, as to money +and county position, and that kind of thing. + +Sarratt took his visitor downstairs, and returned, laughing to himself. + +'Well, darling, I've promised we'll go to his cottage one day this week. +You've to let him know. He's an odd fellow! Reminds me of that story of +the young Don at Cambridge who spent all the time he could spare from +neglecting his duties in adorning his person. And yet that doesn't hit +it quite either. For I don't suppose he does spend much time in adorning +his person. He doesn't want it. He's such a splendid looking chap to +begin with. But I'm sure his duties have a poor time! Why, he told +me--me, an utter stranger!--as we went downstairs--that being a +landowner was the most boring trade in the world. He hated his tenants, +and turned all the bother of them over to his agents. "But they don't +hate me"--he said--"because I don't put the screw on. I'm rich enough +without." By Jove, he's a queer specimen!' + +And Sarratt laughed out, remembering some further items of the +conversation on the stairs. + +'Whom are you discussing?' said a cold voice in the background. + +It was Bridget Cookson's voice, and the husband and wife turned to greet +her. The day was balmy--June at its best. But Bridget as she came in had +the look of someone rasped with east wind. Nelly noticed too that since +her marriage, Bridget had developed an odd habit of not looking her--or +George--straight in the face. She looked sideways, as though determined +to avoid the mere sight of their youth and happiness. 'Is she going to +make a quarrel of it all our lives?' thought Nelly impatiently. 'And +when George is so nice to her! How can she be so silly!' + +'We were talking about our visitor who has just left,' said Sarratt, +clearing a chair for his sister-in-law. 'Ah, you came from the other +direction, you just missed him.' + +'The man'--said Nelly--'who was so awfully polite to me on Saturday--Sir +William Farrell.' + +Bridget's countenance lost its stiffness at once--became eager and +alert. + +'What did he come for?' + +'To bring us permission to use the boat for a week,' said Nelly. +'Wasn't it decent of him?--and to do it so quick!' + +'Oh, that's the Farrell way--always was,' said Bridget complacently, as +though she had the family in her pocket. 'When they think of a thing +it's done. It's hit or miss. They never stop to think.' + +Sarratt looked at his sister-in-law with a covert amusement. It was a +left-handed remark. But she went on--while Nelly finished the packing of +the luncheon-basket--pouring out a flood of gossip about the +Farrells's place near Cockermouth, their great relations, their wealth, +their pictures, and their china, while Sarratt walked up and down, +fidgeting with his mouth, and inwardly thanking his stars that his Nelly +was not the least like her sister, that she was as refined and +well-bred, as Bridget was beginning to seem to him vulgar and tiresome. +But he realised that there was a personality in the tall harsh woman; +that she might be formidable; and once or twice he found himself +watching the curious side-long action of her head and neck, and the play +of her eyes and mouth, with a mingling of close attention and strong +dislike. He kept his own counsel however; and presently he heard +Bridget, who had so far refused all their invitations to join their +walks or excursions, rather eagerly accepting Nelly's invitation to go +with them to Sir William's Loughrigg cottage. She knew all about it +apparently, and said it was 'a gem of a place!' Sir William kept an old +butler and his wife there--pensioned off--who looked after him when he +came. 'Everything's tiny,' said Bridget with emphasis--'but _perfect_! +Sir William has the most exquisite taste. But he never asks anybody to +go there. None of the neighbours know him. So of course they say its +"side," and he gives himself airs. Anyway, Nelly, you may think +yourselves highly honoured--' + +'Darling, isn't that basket ready?' said Sarratt, coming to his wife's +aid. 'We're losing the best of the day--and if Bridget really won't go +with us--' + +Bridget frowned and rose. + +'How are the proofs getting on?' said Sarratt, smiling, as she bade him +a careless good-bye. + +Bridget drew herself up. + +'I never talk about my work.' + +'I suppose that's a good rule,' he said doubtfully, 'especially now that +there's so much else to talk about. The Russian news to-day is pretty +bad!' + +A dark look of anxiety crossed the young man's face. For it was the days +of the great Russian retreat in Galicia and Poland, and every soldier +looking on, knew with gnashing of teeth that the happenings in the East +meant a long postponement of our own advance. + +'Oh, I never trouble about the war!' said Bridget, with a +half-contemptuous note in her voice that fairly set George Sarratt on +fire. He flushed violently, and Nelly looked at him in alarm. But he +said nothing. Nelly however with a merry side-glance at him, unseen by +Bridget, interposed to prevent him from escorting Bridget downstairs. +She went herself. Most sisters would have dispensed with or omitted this +small attention; but Nelly always treated Bridget with a certain +ceremony. When she returned, she threw her arms round George's neck, +half laughing, and half inclined to cry. + +'Oh, George, I do wish I had a nicer sister to give you!' But George had +entirely recovered himself. + +'We shall get on perfectly!' he declared, kissing the soft head that +leant against him. 'Give me a little time, darling. She's new to +me!--I'm new to her.' + +Nelly sighed, and went to put on her hat. In her opinion it was no more +easy to like Bridget after three years than three hours. It was certain +that she and George would never suit each other. At the same time Nelly +was quite conscious that she owed Bridget a good deal. But for the fact +that Bridget did the housekeeping, that Bridget saw to the investment of +their small moneys, and had generally managed the business of their +joint life, Nelly would not have been able to dream, and sketch, and +read, as it was her delight to do. It might be, as she had said to +Sarratt, that Bridget managed because she liked managing. All the same +Nelly knew, not without some prickings of conscience as to her own +dependence, that when George was gone, she would never be able to get on +without Bridget. + +Into what a world of delight the two plunged when they set forth! The +more it rains in the Westmorland country, the more heavenly are the days +when the clouds forget to rain! There were white flocks of them in the +June sky as the new-married pair crossed the wooden bridge beyond the +garden, leading to the further side of the lake, but they were sailing +serene and sunlit in the blue, as though their whole business were to +dapple the hills with blue and violet shadows, or sometimes to throw a +dazzling reflection down into the quiet water. There had been rain, +torrential rain, just before the Sarratts arrived, so that the river was +full and noisy, and all the little becks clattering down the fell, in +their haste to reach the lake, were boasting to the summer air, as +though in forty-eight hours of rainlessness they would not be as dry and +dumb as ever again. The air was fresh, in spite of the Midsummer sun, +and youth and health danced in the veins of the lovers. And yet not +without a touch of something feverish, something abnormal, because of +that day--that shrouded day--standing sentinel at the end of the week. +They never spoke of it, but they never forgot it. It entered into each +clinging grasp he gave her hand as he helped her up or down some steep +or rugged bit of path--into the lingering look of her brown eyes, which +thanked him, smiling--into the moments of silence, when they rested amid +the springing bracken, and the whole scene of mountain, cloud and water +spoke with that sudden tragic note of all supreme beauty, in a world of +'brittleness.' But they were not often silent. There was so much to +say. They were still exploring each other, after the hurry of their +marriage, and short engagement. For a time she chattered to him about +her own early life--their old red-brick house in a Manchester suburb, +with its good-sized rooms, its mahogany doors, its garden, in which her +father used to work--his only pleasure, after his wife's death, besides +'the concerts'--'You know we've awfully good music in Manchester!' As +for her own scattered and scanty education, she had begun to speak of it +almost with bitterness. George's talk and recollections betrayed quite +unconsciously the standards of the academic or highly-trained +professional class to which all his father's kindred belonged; and his +only sister, a remarkably gifted girl, who had died of pneumonia at +eighteen, just as she was going to Girton, seemed to Nelly, when he +occasionally described or referred to her, a miracle--a terrifying +miracle--of learning and accomplishment. + +Once indeed, she broke out in distress:--'Oh, George, I don't know +anything! Why wasn't I sent to school! We had a wretched little +governess who taught us nothing. And then I'm lazy--I never was +ambitious--like Bridget. Do you mind that I'm so stupid--do you mind?' + +And she laid her hands on his knee, as they sat together among the fern, +while her eyes searched his face in a real anxiety. + +What joy it was to laugh at her--to tease her! + +'_How_ stupid are you, darling? Tell me, exactly. It is of course a +terrible business. If I'd only known--' + +But she would be serious. + +'I don't know _any_ languages, George! Just a little French--but you'd +be ashamed if you heard me talking it. As to history--don't ask!' She +shrugged her shoulders despairingly. Then her face brightened. 'But +there's something! I do love poetry--I've read a lot of poetry.' + +'That's all right--so have I,' he said, promptly. + +'Isn't it strange--' her tone was thoughtful--'how people care for poetry +nowadays! A few years ago, one never heard of people--ordinary +people--_buying_ poetry, new poetry--or reading it. But I know a shop in +Manchester that's just full of poetry--new books and old books--and the +shop-man told me that people buy it almost more than anything. Isn't it +funny? What makes them do it? Is it the war?' + +Sarratt considered it, while making a smooth path for a gorgeous green +beetle through the bit of turf beside him. + +'I suppose it's the war,' he said at last. 'It does change fellows. It's +easy enough to go along bluffing and fooling in ordinary times. Most men +don't know what they think--or what they feel--or whether they feel +anything. But somehow--out there--when you see the things other fellows +are doing--when you know the things you may have to do yourself--well----' + +'Yes, yes--go on!' she said eagerly, and he went on, but reluctantly, +for he had seen her shiver, and the white lids fall a moment over her +eyes. + +'--It doesn't seem unnatural--or hypocritical--or canting--to talk and +feel--sometimes--as you couldn't talk or feel at home, with life going +on just as usual. I've had to censor letters, you see, darling--and the +letters some of the roughest and stupidest fellows write, you'd never +believe. And there's no pretence in it either. What would be the good of +pretending out there? No--it's just the pace life goes--and the +fire--and the strain of it. It's awful--and _horrible_--and yet you +wouldn't not be there for the world.' + +His voice dropped a little; he looked out with veiled eyes upon the lake +chequered with the blue and white of its inverted sky. Nelly +guessed--trembling--at the procession of images that was passing through +them; and felt for a moment strangely separated from him--separated and +desolate. + +'George, it's dreadful now--to be a woman!' + +She spoke in a low appealing voice, pressing up against him, as though +she begged the soul in him that had been momentarily unconscious of her, +to come back to her. + +He laughed, and the vision before his eyes broke up. + +'Darling, it's adorable now--to be a woman! How I shall think of you, +when I'm out there!--away from all the grime and the horror--sitting by +this lake, and looking--as you do now.' + +He drew a little further away from her, and lying on his elbows on the +grass, he began to read her, as it were, from top to toe, that he might +fix every detail in his mind. + +'I like that little hat so much, Nelly!--and that blue cloak is just +ripping! And what's that you've got at your waist--a silver +buckle?--yes! I gave it you. Mind you wear it, when I'm away, and tell +me you're wearing it--then I can fancy it.' + +'Will you ever have time--to think of me--George?' + +She bent towards him. + +He laughed. + +'Well, not when I'm going over the parapet to attack the Boches. +Honestly, one thinks of nothing then but how one can get one's men +across. But you won't come off badly, my little Nell--for +thoughts--night or day. And you mustn't think of us too sentimentally. +It's quite true that men write wonderful letters--and wonderful verse +too--men of all ranks--things you'd never dream they could write. I've +got a little pocket-book full that I've collected. I've left it in +London, but I'll show you some day. But bless you, nobody _talks_ about +their feelings at the front. We're a pretty slangy lot in the trenches, +and when we're in billets, we read novels and rag each other--and +_sleep_--my word, we do sleep!' + +He rolled on his back, and drew his hat over his eyes a moment, for +even in the fresh mountain air the June sun was fierce. Nelly sat still, +watching him, as he had watched her--all the young strength and +comeliness of the man to whom she had given herself. + +And as she did so there came swooping down upon her, like the blinding +wings of a Fury, the remembrance of a battle picture she had seen that +morning: a bursting shell--limp figures on the ground. Oh not +George--not _George_--never! The agony ran through her, and her fingers +gripped the turf beside her. Then it passed, and she was silently proud +that she had been able to hide it. But it had left her pale and +restless. She sprang up, and they went along the high path leading to +Grasmere and Langdale. + +Presently at the top of the little neck which separates Rydal from +Grasmere they came upon an odd cavalcade. In front walked an elderly +lady, with a huge open bag slung round her, in which she carried an +amazing load of the sphagnum moss that English and Scotch women were +gathering at that moment all over the English and Scotch mountains for +the surgical purposes of the war. Behind her came a pony, with a boy. +The pony was laden with the same moss, so was the boy. The lady's face +was purple with exertion, and in her best days she could never have been +other than plain; her figure was shapeless. She stopped the pony as she +neared the Sarratts, and addressed them--panting. + +'I beg your pardon!--but have you by chance seen another lady carrying +a bag like mine? I brought a friend with me to help gather this +stuff--but we seem to have missed each other on the top of Silver +How--and I can't imagine what's happened to her.' + +The voice was exceedingly musical and refined--but there was a touch of +power in it--a curious note of authority. She stood, recovering breath +and looking at the young people with clear and penetrating eyes, +suddenly observant. + +The Sarratts could only say that they had not come across any other +moss-gatherer on the road. + +The strange lady sighed--but with a half humorous, half philosophical +lifting of the eyebrows. + +'It was very stupid of me to miss her--but you really can't come to +grief on these fells in broad daylight. However, if you do meet her--a +lady with a sailor hat, and a blue jersey--will you tell her that I've +gone on to Ambleside?' + +Sarratt politely assured her that they would look out for her companion. +He had never yet seen a grey-haired Englishwoman, of that age, carry so +heavy a load, and he liked both her pluck and her voice. She reminded +him of the French peasant women in whose farms he often lodged behind +the lines. She meanwhile was scrutinising him--the badge on his cap, and +the two buttons on his khaki sleeve. + +'I think I know who you are,' she said, with a sudden smile. 'Aren't +you Mr. and Mrs. Sarratt? Sir William Farrell told me about you.' Then +she turned to the boy--'Go on, Jim. I'll come soon.' + +A conversation followed on the mountain path, in which their new +acquaintance gave her name as Miss Hester Martin, living in a cottage on +the outskirts of Ambleside, a cousin and old friend of Sir William +Farrell; an old friend indeed, it seemed, of all the local residents; +absorbed in war-work of different kinds, and somewhere near sixty years +of age; but evidently neither too old nor too busy to have lost the +natural interest of a kindly spinster in a bride and bridegroom, +especially when the bridegroom was in khaki, and under orders for the +front. She promised, at once, to come and see Mrs. Sarratt, and George, +beholding in her a possible motherly friend for Nelly when he should be +far away, insisted that she should fix a day for her call before his +departure. Nelly added her smiles to his. Then, with a pleasant nod, +Miss Martin left them, refusing all their offers to help her with her +load. '"My strength is as the strength of ten,"' she said with a flash +of fun in her eyes--'But I won't go on with the quotation. Good-bye.' + +George and Nelly went on towards a spot above a wood in front of them to +which she had directed them, as a good point to rest and lunch. She, +meanwhile, pursued her way towards Ambleside, her thoughts much more +occupied with the young couple than with her lost companion. The little +thing was a beauty, certainly. Easy to see what had attracted William +Farrell! An uncommon type--and a very artistic type; none of your +milk-maids. She supposed before long William would be proposing to draw +her--hm!--with the husband away? It was to be hoped some watch-dog would +be left. William was a good fellow--no real malice in him--had never +_meant_ to injure anybody, that she knew of--but-- + +Miss Martin's cogitations however went no farther in exploring that +'but.' She was really very fond of her cousin William, who bore an +amount of discipline from her that no one else dared to apply to the +owner of Carton. Tragic, that he couldn't fight! That would have brought +out all there was in him. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +'Glorious!' + +Nelly Sarratt stood lost in the beauty of the spectacle commanded by Sir +William Farrell's cottage. It was placed in a by-road on the western +side of Loughrigg, that smallest of real mountains, beloved of poets and +wanderers. The ground dropped sharply below it to a small lake or tarn, +its green banks fringed with wood, while on the further side the purple +crag and noble head of Wetherlam rose out of sunlit mist,--thereby +indefinitely heightened--into a pearl and azure sky. To the north also, +a splendid wilderness of fells, near and far; with the Pikes and Bowfell +leading the host. White mists--radiant mists--perpetually changing, made +a magic interweaving of fell with fell, of mountain with sky. Every tint +of blue and purple, of amethyst and sapphire lay melted in the chalice +carved out by the lake and its guardian mountains. Every line of that +chalice was harmonious as though each mountain and valley filled its +place consciously, in a living order; and in the grandeur of the whole +there was no terror, no hint of a world hostile and inaccessible to man, +as in the Alps and the Rockies. + +'These mountains are one's friends,' said Farrell, smiling as he stood +beside Nelly, pointing out the various peaks by name. 'If you know them +only a little, you can trust yourself to them, at any hour of the day or +night. Whereas, in the Alps, I always feel myself "a worm and no man"!' + +'I have never been abroad,' said Nelly shyly. + +For once he found an _ingénue_ attractive. + +'Then you have it to come--when the world is sane again. But some things +you will have missed for ever. For instance, you will never see +Rheims--as it was. I have spent months at Rheims in old days, drawing +and photographing. I must show you my things. They have a tragic value +now.' + +And taking out a portfolio from a rack near him, he opened it and put it +on a stand before her. + +Nelly, who had in her the real instincts of the artist, turned over some +very masterly drawings, in mingled delight and despair. + +'If I could only do something like that!' she said, pointing to a study +of some of the famous windows at Rheims, with vague forms of saint and +king emerging from a conflagration of colour, kindled by the afternoon +sun, and dyeing the pavement below. + +'Ah, that took me some time. It was difficult. But here are some +fragments you'll like--just bits from the façade and the monuments.' + +The strength of the handling excited her. She looked at them in silence; +remembering with disgust all the pretty sentimental work she had been +used to copy. She began to envisage what this commonly practised art +may be; what a master can do with it. Standards leaped up. Alp on Alp +appeared. When George was gone she would _work_, yes, she would work +hard--to surprise him when he came back. + +Sir William meanwhile was increasingly taken with his guest. She was +shy, very diffident, very young; but in the few things she said, he +discerned--or fancied--the stirrings of a real taste--real intelligence. +And she was prettier and more fetching than ever--with her small dark +head, and her lovely mouth. He would like to draw the free sensuous line +of it, the beautiful moulding of the chin. What a prize for the young +man! Was he aware of his own good fortune? Was he adequate? + +'I say, how jolly!' said Sarratt, coming up to look. 'My wife, Sir +William--I think she told you--has got a turn for this kind of thing. +These will give her ideas.' + +And while he looked at the drawings, he slipped a hand into his wife's +arm, smiling down upon her, and commenting on the sketches. There was +nothing in what he said. He only 'knew what he liked,' and an unfriendly +bystander would have been amused by his constant assumption that Nelly's +sketches were as good as anybody's. Entirely modest for himself, he was +inclined to be conceited for her, she checking him, with rather flushed +cheeks. But Farrell liked him all the better, both for the ignorance and +the pride. The two young people standing there together, so evidently +absorbed in each other, yet on the brink of no ordinary parting, touched +the romantic note in him. He was very sorry for them--especially for the +bride--and eagerly, impulsively wished to befriend them. + +In the background, the stout lady whom the Sarratts had met on Loughrigg +Terrace, Miss Hester Martin, was talking to Miss Farrell, while Bridget +Cookson was carrying on conversation with a tall officer who carried his +arm in a sling, and was apparently yet another convalescent officer from +the Carton hospital, whom Cicely Farrell had brought over in her motor +to tea at her brother's cottage. His name seemed to be Captain +Marsworth, and he was doing his best with Bridget; but there were great +gaps in their conversation, and Bridget resentfully thought him dull. +Also she perceived--for she had extremely quick eyes in such +matters--that Captain Marsworth, while talking to her, seemed to be +really watching Miss Farrell, and she at once jumped to the conclusion +that there was something 'up' between him and Miss Farrell. + +Cicely Farrell certainly took no notice of him. She was sitting perched +on the high end of a sofa smoking a cigarette and dangling her feet, +which were encased, as before, in high-heeled shoes and immaculate +gaiters. She was dressed in white serge with a cap and jersey of the +brightest possible green. Her very open bodice showed a string of fine +pearls and she wore pearl ear-rings. Seen in the same room with Nelly +Sarratt she could hardly be guessed at less than twenty-eight. She was +the mature woman in full possession of every feminine weapon, +experienced, subtle, conscious, a little hard, a little malicious. Nelly +Sarratt beside her looked a child. Miss Farrell had glanced at her with +curiosity, but had not addressed many words to her. She had concluded at +once that it was a type that did not interest her. It interested William +of course, because he was professionally on the look out for beauty. But +that was his affair. Miss Farrell had no use for anything so unfledged +and immature. And as for the sister, Miss Cookson, she had no points of +attraction whatever. The young man, the husband, was well +enough--apparently a gentleman; but Miss Farrell felt that she would +have forgotten his existence when the tea-party was over. So she had +fallen back on conversation with her cousin. That Cousin Hester--dear, +shapeless, Puritanical thing!--disapproved of her, her dress, her +smoking, her ways, and her opinions, Cicely well knew--but that only +gave zest to their meetings, which were not very frequent. + +Meanwhile Bridget, in lieu of conversation and while tea was still +preparing, was making mental notes of the cottage. It consisted +apparently of two sitting-rooms, and a studio--in which they were to +have tea--with two or three bedrooms above. It had been developed out of +a Westmorland farm, but developed beyond recognition. The spacious rooms +panelled in plain oak, were furnished sparely, with few things, but +those of the most beautiful and costly kind. Old Persian rugs and +carpets, a few Renaissance mirrors, a few priceless 'pots,' a picture or +two, hangings and coverings of a dim purple--the whole, made by these +various items and objects, expressed a taste perhaps originally florid, +but tamed by long and fastidious practice of the arts of decoration. + +In the study where tea had been laid, Nelly could not restrain her +wonder and delight. On one wall hung ten of the most miraculous +Turners--drawings from his best period, each of them irreplaceably +famous. Another wall showed a group of Boningtons--a third a similar +gathering of Whistlers. Sir William, charmed with the bride's pleasure, +took down drawing after drawing, carried them to the light for her, and +discoursed upon them. + +'Would you like that to copy?'--he said, putting a Turner into her +lap--a marvel of blue mountain peaks, and winding river, and aerial +distance. + +'Oh, I shouldn't dare--I should be afraid!' said Nelly, hardly liking to +take the treasure in her own hands. 'Aren't they--aren't they worth +immense sums?' + +Sir William laughed. + +'Well, of course, they're valuable--everybody wants them. But if you +would ever like that one to copy, you shall have it, and any other that +would help you. I know you wouldn't let it be hurt, if you could help +it--because you'd love it--as I do. You wouldn't let a Turner drawing +like that fade and blister in the sun--as I've seen happen again and +again in houses he painted them for. Brutes! Hanging's too good for +people who maltreat Turners. Let me relieve you of it now. I must get +you some tea. But the drawing will come to you next week. You won't be +able to think of it till then.' + +He looked at her with the ardent sympathy which sprang easily from his +quick, emotional temperament, and made it possible for him to force his +way rapidly into intimacy, where he desired to be intimate. But Nelly +shrank into herself. She put the drawing away, and did not seem to care +to look at any more. Farrell wished he had left his remark unspoken, and +finding that he had somehow extinguished her smiles and her talk, he +relieved her of his company, and went away to talk to Sarratt and +Captain Marsworth. As soon as tea was over, Nelly beckoned to her +husband. + +'Are you going so soon?' said Hester Martin, who had been unobtrusively +mothering her, since Farrell left her--'When may I come and see you?' + +'To-morrow?' said Nelly vaguely, looking up. 'George hoped you would +come, before he goes. There are--there are only three days.' + +'I will come to-morrow,' said Miss Martin, touching Nelly's hand softly. +The cold, small fingers moved, as though instinctively, towards her, and +took refuge in her warm capacious hand. Then Nelly whispered to +Bridget--appealingly-- + +'I want to go, Bridget.' + +Bridget frowned with annoyance. Why should Nelly want to go so soon? The +beauty and luxury of the cottage--the mere tea-table with all its +perfect appointments of fine silver and china, the multitude of cakes, +the hot-house fruit, the well-trained butler--all the signs of wealth +that to Nelly were rather intimidating, and to Sarratt--in +war-time--incongruous and repellent, were to Bridget the satisfaction of +so many starved desires. This ease and lavishness; the best of +everything and no trouble to get it; the 'cottage' as perfect as the +palace;--it was so, she felt, that life should be lived, to be really +worth living. She envied the Farrells with an intensity of envy. Why +should some people have so much and others so little? And as she watched +Sir William's attentions to Nelly, she said to herself, for the +hundredth time, that but for Nelly's folly, she could easily have +captured wealth like this. Why not Sir William himself? It would not +have been at all unlikely that they should come across him on one of +their Westmorland holidays. The thought of their dingy Manchester rooms, +of the ceaseless care and economy that would be necessary for their +joint ménage when Sarratt was gone, filled her with disgust. Their +poverty was wholly unnecessary--it was Nelly's silly fault. She felt at +times as though she hated her brother-in-law, who had so selfishly +crossed their path, and ruined the hopes and dreams which had been +strengthening steadily in her mind during the last two years +especially, since Nelly's beauty had become more pronounced. + +'It's not at all late!' she said, angrily, in her sister's ear. + +'Oh, but George wants to take me to Easedale,' said Nelly under her +breath. 'It will be our last long walk.' + +Bridget had to submit to be torn away. A little motor was waiting +outside. It had brought the Sarratts and Bridget from Rydal, and was to +take Bridget home, dropping the Sarratts at Grasmere for an evening +walk. Sir William tried indeed to persuade them to stay longer, till a +signal from his cousin Hester stopped him; 'Well, if you must go, you +must,' he said, regretfully. 'Cicely, you must arrange with Mrs. +Sarratt, when she will pay us a visit--and'--he looked uncertainly round +him, as though he had only just remembered Bridget's existence--'of +course your sister must come too.' + +Cicely came forward, and with a little lisp, repeated her brother's +invitation--rather perfunctorily. + +Sir William took his guests to their car, and bade a cordial farewell to +Sarratt. + +'Good-bye--and good luck. What shall I wish you? The D.S.O., and a +respectable leave before the summer's over? You will be in for great +things.' + +Sarratt shook his head. + +'Not till we get more guns, and tons more shell!' + +'Oh, the country's waking up!' + +'It's about time!' said Sarratt, gravely, as he climbed into the car. +Sir William bent towards him. + +'Anything that we can do to help your wife and her sister, during their +stay here, you may be sure we shall do.' + +'It's very kind of you,' said the young officer gratefully, as he +grasped Farrell's hand. And Nelly sent a shy glance of thanks towards +the speaker, while Bridget sat erect and impassive. + +Sir William watched them disappear, and then returned to the tea-room. +He was received with a burst of laughter from his sister. + +'Well, Willy, so you're caught--fairly caught! What am I to do? When am +I to ask her? And the sister too?' + +And lighting another cigarette, Cicely looked at her brother with +mocking eyes. + +Farrell reddened a little, but kept his temper. + +'In a week or two I should think, you might ask her, when she's got over +her husband's going away.' + +'They get over it very soon--in general,' said Cicely coolly. + +'Not that sort.' + +The voice was Captain Marsworth's. + +Cicely appeared to take no notice. But her eyelids flickered. Hester +Martin interposed. + +'A dear, little, appealing thing,' she said, warmly--'and her husband +evidently a capital fellow. I didn't take to the sister--but who knows? +She may be an excellent creature, all the same. I'm glad I shall be so +near them. It will be a help to that poor child to find her something to +do.' + +Cicely laughed. + +'You think she'll hunt sphagnum--and make bandages? I don't.' + +'Why this "thusness?"' said Miss Martin raising her eyebrows. 'What has +made you take a dislike to the poor little soul, Cicely? There never was +anyone more plainly in love--' + +'Or more to be pitied,' said the low voice in the background--low but +emphatic. + +It was now Cicely's turn to flush. + +'Of course I know I'm a beast,' she said defiantly,--'but the fact is I +didn't like either of them!--the sisters, I mean.' + +'What oh earth is there to dislike in Mrs. Sarratt!' cried Farrell. +'You're quite mad, Cicely.' + +'She's too pretty,' said Miss Farrell obstinately--and too--too simple. +And nobody as pretty as that can be really simple. It's only pretence.' + +As she spoke Cicely rose to her feet, and began to put on her veil in +front of one of the old mirrors. 'But of course, Will, I shall behave +nicely to your friends. Don't I always behave nicely to them?' + +She turned lightly to her brother, who looked at her only half appeased. + +'I shan't give you a testimonial to-day, Cicely.' + +'Then I must do without it. Well, this day three weeks, a party at +Carton, for Mrs. Sarratt. Will that give her time to settle down?' + +'Unless her husband is killed by then,' said Captain Marsworth, quietly. +'His regiment is close to Loos. He'll be in the thick of it directly.' + +'Oh no,' said Cicely, twisting the ends of her veil lightly between a +finger and thumb. 'Just a "cushy" wound, that'll bring him home on a +three months' leave, and give her the bore of nursing him.' + +'Cicely, you are a hard-hearted wretch!' said her brother, angrily. 'I +think Marsworth and I will go and stroll till the motor is ready.' + +The two men disappeared, and Cicely let herself drop into an arm-chair. +Her eyes, as far as could be seen through her veil, were blazing; the +redness in her cheeks had improved upon the rouge with which they were +already touched; and the gesture with which she pulled on her gloves was +one of excitement. + +'Cicely dear--what is the matter with you?' said Miss Martin in +distress. She was fond of Cicely, in spite of that young lady's +extravagances of dress and manner, and she divined something gone wrong. + +'Nothing is the matter--nothing at all. It is only necessary, sometimes, +to shock people,' said Cicely, calming down. She threw her head back +against the chair and closed her eyes, while her lips still smiled +triumphantly. + +'Were you trying to shock Captain Marsworth?' + +'It's so easy--it's hardly worth doing,' said Cicely, sleepily. Then +after a pause--'Ah, isn't that the motor?' + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile the little hired motor from Ambleside had dropped the Sarratts +on the Easedale road, and carried Bridget away in an opposite direction, +to the silent but great relief of the newly-married pair. And soon the +husband and wife had passed the last farm in the valley, and were +walking up a rough climbing path towards Sour Milk Ghyll, and Easedale +Tarn. The stream was full, and its many channels ran white and foaming +down the steep rock face, where it makes its chief leap to the valley. +The summer weather held, and every tree and fell-side stood bathed in a +warm haze, suffused with the declining light. All round, encircling +fells in a purple shadow; to the north and east, great slopes +appearing--Helvellyn, Grisedale, Fairfield. They walked hand in hand +where the path admitted--almost silent--passionately conscious of each +other--and of the beauty round them. Sometimes they stopped to gather a +flower, or notice a bird; and then there would be a few words, with a +meaning only for themselves. And when they reached the tarn,--a magical +shadowed mirror of brown and purple water,--they sat for long beside it, +while the evening faded, and a breathless quiet came across the hills, +stilling all their voices, even, one might have fancied, the voice of +the hurrying stream itself. At the back of Nelly's mind there was always +the same inexorable counting of the hours; and in his a profound and +sometimes remorseful pity for this gentle creature who had given herself +to him, together with an immense gratitude. + +The stars came out, and a light easterly wind sprang up, sending ripples +across the tarn, and stirring last year's leaves among the new grass. It +had grown chilly, and Sarratt took Nelly's blue cloak from his arm and +wrapped her in it--then in his arms, as she rested against him. +Presently he felt her hand drop languidly from his, and he knew +that--not the walk, but the rush of those half-spoken thoughts which +held them both, had brought exhaustion. + +'Darling--we must go home!' He bent over her. + +She rose feebly. + +'Why am I so tired? It's absurd.' + +'Let me carry you a little.' + +'You couldn't!' She smiled at him. + +But he lifted her with ease--she was so small and slight, while in him a +fresh wave of youth and strength had risen, with happiness, and the +reaction of convalescence. She made no resistance, and he carried her +down some way, through the broad mingled light. Her face was hidden on +his breast, and felt the beating of his life. She said to herself more +than once that to die so would be bliss. The marvel of love bewildered +her. 'What was I like before it?--what shall I be, when he is gone?' + +When she made him set her down, she said gaily that she was all right, +and gave him a kiss of thanks, simply, like a child. The valley lay +before them with its scattered lights, and they pressed on through the +twilight--two dim and spectral figures--spirits it seemed, who had been +on the heights sharing ambrosial feasts with the Immortals, and had but +just descended to the common earth again. + + * * * * * + +Nelly spent the next three days, outside their walks and boatings on the +lake, in whatever wifely offices to her man still remained to +her--marking his new socks and khaki shirts, furnishing a small medicine +chest, and packing a tin of special delicacies, meat lozenges, +chocolate, various much advertised food tabloids, and his favourite +biscuits. Sarratt laughed over them, but had not the heart to dissuade +her. She grew paler every day, but was always gay and smiling so long as +his eyes were on her; and his sound young sleep knew nothing of her +quiet stifled weeping at those moments of the night, when the bodily and +nervous forces are at their lowest, and all the future blackens. Miss +Martin paid them several visits, bringing them books and flowers. Books +and flowers too arrived from Carton--with a lavish supply of cigarettes +for the departing soldier. Nelly had the piteous sense that everyone was +sorry for her--Mrs. Weston, the kind landlady, Milly, the little +housemaid. It seemed to her sometimes that the mere strangers she met in +the road knew that George was going, and looked at her compassionately. + +The last day came, showery in the morning, and clearing to a glorious +evening, with all the new leaf and growing hayfields freshened by rain, +and all the streams brimming. Bridget came over in the afternoon, and as +she watched her sister's face, became almost kind, almost sympathetic. +George proposed to walk back part of the way to Ambleside with his +sister-in-law, and Nelly with a little frown of alarm watched them go. + +But the tête-à -tête was not disagreeable to either. Bridget was taken +aback, to begin with, by some very liberal proposals of Sarratt's on the +subject of her and Nelly's joint expenses during his absence. She was to +be Nelly's guest--they both wished it--and he said kindly that he +quite understood Nelly's marriage had made a difference to her, and he +hoped she would let them make it up to her, as far and as soon as they +could. Bridget was surprised into amiability,--and Sarratt found a +chance of saying-- + +'And you'll let Nelly talk about the war--though it does bore you? She +won't be able to help it--poor child!' + +Bridget supposed that now she too would have to talk about the war. He +needn't be afraid, she added drily. She would look after Nelly. And she +looked so masterful and vigorous as she said it, that Sarratt could only +believe her. + +They shook hands in the road, better friends to all seeming than they +had been yet. And Nelly received George's account of the conversation +with a sigh of relief. + + * * * * * + +That night the midsummer moon would be at the full, and as the clouds +vanished from the sky, and the soft purple night came down, Nelly and +Sarratt leaving every piece of luggage behind them, packed, labelled, +locked, and piled in the hall, ready for the cart that was to call for +it in the early hours--took their way to the lake and the boathouse. +They had been out at night once before, but this was to be the crowning +last thing--the last joint memory. + +It was eleven o'clock before the oars dipped into the water, and as they +neared the larger island, the moon, rearing its bright head over the +eastern fells, shot a silver pathway through the lake; and on either +side of the pathway, the mirrored woods and crags, more dim and ghostly +than by day, seemed to lead downward to that very threshold and entrance +of the underworld, through which the blinded Theban king vanished from +the eyes of men. Silver-bright the woods and fell-side, on the west; +while on the east the woods in shadow, lay sleeping, 'moon-charmed.' The +air was balmy; and one seemed to hear through it the steady soft beat of +the summer life, rising through the leaves and grass and flowers. Every +sound was enchantment--the drip of water from the oars, the hooting of +an owl on the island, even the occasional distant voices, and tapping of +horses' feet on the main road bordering the lake. + +Sarratt let the oars drift, and the boat glided, as though of its own +will, past the island, and into the shadow beyond it. Now it was Silver +How, and all the Grasmere mountains, that caught the 'hallowing' light. + +Nelly sat bare-headed, her elbows on her knees, and her face propped in +her hands. She was in white, with a white shawl round her, and the grace +of the slight form and dark head stirred anew in Sarratt that astonished +and exquisite sense of possession which had been one of the main +elements of consciousness, during their honeymoon. Of late indeed it had +been increasingly met and wrestled with by something harsher and +sterner; by the instinct of the soldier, of the fighting man, foreseeing +a danger to his own will, a weakening of the fibre on which his effort +and his power depend. There were moments when passionately as he loved +her, he was glad to be going; secretly glad that the days which were in +truth a greater test of endurance than the trenches were coming to an +end. He must be able to trust himself and his own nerve to the utmost. +Away from her, love would be only a strengthening power; here beside +her, soul and sense contended. + +A low voice came out of the shadow. + +'George--I'm not going with you to the station.' + +'Best not, dearest--much best.' + +A silence. Then the voice spoke again. + +'How long will it take you, George, getting to the front?' + +'About twenty-four hours from the base, perhaps more. It's a weary +business.' + +'Will you be in action at once?' + +'I think so. That part of the line's very short of men.' + +'When shall I hear?' + +He laughed. + +'By every possible post, I should think, darling. You've given me +post-cards enough.' + +And he tapped his breast-pocket, where lay the little writing-case she +had furnished for every imaginable need. + +'George!' + +'Yes, darling.' + +'When you're tired, you're--you're not to write.' + +He put out his long arms, and took her hands in his. + +'I shan't be tired--and I shall write.' + +She looked down upon the hands holding hers. In each of the little +fingers there was a small amusing deformity--a slight crook or +twist--which, as is the way of lovers, was especially dear to her. She +remembered once, before they were engaged, flaming out at Bridget, who +had made mock of it. She stooped now, and kissed the fingers. Then she +bowed her forehead upon them. + +'George!'--he could only just hear her--'I know Miss Martin will be +kind to me--and I shall find plenty to do. You're never to worry about +me.' + +'I won't--so long as you write to me--every day.' + +There was again a silence. Then she lifted her head, and as the boat +swung out of the shadow, the moonlight caught her face. + +'You'll take that Wordsworth I gave you, won't you, George? It'll remind +you--of this.' Her gesture showed the lake and the mountains. + +'Of course, I shall take it. I shall read it whenever I can--perhaps +more for your sake--than Wordsworth's.' + +'It'll make us remember the same things,' she murmured. + +'As if we wanted anything to make us remember!' + +'George!' her voice was almost a sob--'It's been almost too perfect. +Sometimes--just for that--I'm afraid.' + +'Don't be, darling. The God we believe in _isn't_ a jealous God! That's +one of the notions one grows out of--over there.' + +'Do you think He's our friend, George--that He really cares?' + +The sweet appealing voice touched him unbearably. + +'Yes, I do think it--' he said, firmly, after a pause. 'I do believe +it--with all my heart.' + +'Then I'll believe it!' she said, with a long breath; and there was +silence again, till suddenly over the water came the sound of the Rydal +Chapel bell, striking midnight. Nelly withdrew her hands and sat up. + +'George, we must go home. You must have a good night.' + +He obeyed her, took up the oars, and pulled swiftly to the boathouse. +She sat in a kind of dream. It was all over, the heavenly time--all +done. She had had the very best of life--could it ever come again? In +her pain and her longing she was strangely conscious of growth and +change. The Nelly of three weeks back seemed to have nothing to do with +her present self, to be another human being altogether. + +He made her go to bed, and remained in the sitting-room himself, under +pretence of some papers he must put in order. When the sounds in the +next room ceased, and he knew that she must be lying still, waiting for +him, he sat down, took pen and paper, and began to write to her--a +letter to be given to her if he fell. He had already written a letter of +business directions, which was at his lawyer's. This was of another +kind. + +'My Darling,--this will be very short. It is only to tell you that if I +fall--if we never meet again, after to-morrow, you are to think first of +all--and always--that you have made a man so happy that if no more joy +can come to him on earth, he could die now--as far as he himself is +concerned--blessing God for his life. I never imagined that love could +be so perfect. You have taught me. God reward you--God watch over you. +If I die, you will be very sad--that will be the bitterness to me, if I +have time to know it. But this is my last prayer to you--to be comforted +by this remembrance--of what you have done for me--what you have been to +me. And in time, my precious one, comfort will come. There may be a +child--if so, you will love it for us both. But if not, you must still +take comfort. You must be willing, for my sake, to be comforted. And +remember:--don't be angry with me, darling--if in years to come, another +true love, and another home should be offered you, don't refuse +them--Nelly! You were born to be loved. And if my spirit lives, and +understands; what could it feel but joy that your sorrow was healed--my +best beloved! + +'This will be given to you only if I die. With the deepest gratitude and +the tenderest love that a man can feel, I bid you good-bye--my precious +wife--good-bye!' + +He put it up with a steady hand, and addressed it first to Nelly, +enclosing it in a larger envelope addressed to his oldest friend, a +school-fellow, who had been his best man at their marriage. Then he +stole downstairs, unlocked the front door, and crossing the road in the +moonlight, he put the letter into the wall post-box on the further side. +And before re-entering the house, he stood a minute or two in the road, +letting the fresh wind from the fells beat upon his face, and trying +the while to stamp on memory the little white house where Nelly lay, the +trees overhanging it, the mountain tops beyond the garden wall. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +'Is Mrs. Sarratt in?' asked Miss Martin of Mrs. Weston's little maid, +Milly. + +Milly wore a look of animation, as of one who has been finding the world +interesting. + +'She's gone a walk--over the bridge, Miss.' + +'Has she had news of Mr. Sarratt?' + +'Yes, Miss,' said the girl eagerly. 'He's all right. Mrs. Sarratt got a +telegram just a couple of hours ago.' + +'And you think I shall find her by the lake?' + +Milly thought so. Then advancing a step, she said confidentially-- + +'She's been dreadfully upset this two days, Miss. Not that she'd say +anything. But she's looked------' + +'I know. I saw her yesterday.' + +'And it's been a job to get her to eat anything. Mrs. Weston's been +after her with lots of things--tasty you know, Miss--to try and tempt +her. But she wouldn't hardly look at them.' + +'Thank you, Milly'--said Miss Martin, after a pause. 'Well, I'll find +her. Is Miss Cookson here?' + +Milly's candid countenance changed at once. She frowned--it might have +been said she scowled. + +'She came the day Mr. Sarratt went away, Miss. Well of course it's not +my place to speak, Miss--but _she_ don't do Mrs. Sarratt no good!' Miss +Martin couldn't help a smile--but she shook her head reprovingly all the +same, as she hastened away. Milly had been in her Sunday-school class, +and they were excellent friends. + +Across the Rotha, she pursued a little footpath leading to the lakeside. +It was a cold day, with flying clouds and gleams on hill and water. The +bosom of Silver How held depths of purple shadow, but there were lights +like elves at play, chasing each other along the Easedale fells, and the +stony side of Nab Scar. + +Beside the water, on a rock, sat Nelly Sarratt. An open telegram and a +bundle of letters lay on her lap, her hands loosely folded over them. +She was staring at the water and the hills, with absent eyes, and her +small face wore an expression--relaxed and sweet--like that of a +comforted child, which touched Miss Martin profoundly. + +'So you've heard?--you poor thing!' said the elder woman smiling, as she +laid a friendly hand on the girl's shoulder. + +Nelly looked up--and drew a long deep breath. + +'He's all right, and the battalion's going to have three weeks' +rest--behind the lines.' + +Her dark eyes shone. Hester Martin sat down on the turf beside her. + +'Capital! When did you hear last?' + +'Just the day before the "push." Of course he couldn't tell me +anything--but somehow I knew. And then the papers since--they're pretty +ghastly,' said Nelly, with a faint laugh and a shiver. 'The farm under +the hill there'--she pointed--'you know about them?' + +'Yes. I saw them after the telegram,' said Miss Martin, sadly. 'Of +course it was the only son. These small families are too awful. Every +married woman ought to have six sons!' + +Nelly dropped her face out of sight, shading it with her hands. +Presently she said, in a dreamy voice of content-- + +'I shall get a letter to-morrow.' + +'How do you know?' + +Nelly held out the telegram, which said-- + +'All safe. Posted letter last night. Love.' + +'It _can't_ take more than forty-eight hours to come--can it?' Then she +lifted her eyes again to the distant farm, with its white front and its +dark patch of yews. + +'I keep thinking of _their_ telegram--' she said, slowly--'and then of +mine. Oh, this war is too _horrible!'_ She threw up her hands with a +sudden wild gesture, and then let one of them drop into Hester Martin's +grasp. 'In George's last letter he told me he had to go with a message +across a bit of ground that was being shelled. He went with a +telephonist. He crossed first. The other man was to wait and follow him +after an interval. George got across, then the man with the telephone +wire started, and was shot--just as he reached George. He fell into +George's arms--and died. And it might have been George--it might have +been George just as well! It might be George any day!' + +Miss Martin looked at her in perplexity. She had no ready-made +consolations--she never had. Perhaps it was that which made her kind +wrinkled face such a welcome sight to those in trouble. But at last she +said--'It is all we women can do--to be patient--and hope--not to let +our courage go down.' + +Nelly shook her head. + +'I am always saying that to myself--but! when the news comes--_if_ it +comes--what good will that be to me! Oh, I haven't been idle--indeed I +haven't,' she added piteously--'I've worked myself tired every day--just +not to think!' + +'I know you have,' Miss Martin pressed the hand in hers. 'Well, now, +he'll be all safe for a fortnight------' + +'Perhaps three weeks,' Nelly corrected her, eagerly. Then she looked +round at her new friend, a shy smile lighting up her face, and +bringing back its bloom. + +'You know he writes to me nearly every day?' + +'It's the way people have--war or no war--when they're in love,' said +Hester Martin drily. 'And you--how often?' + +'_Every_ day. I haven't missed once. How could I?--when he wants me to +write--when I hear so often!' And her free hand closed possessively, +greedily, over the letters in her lap. + +Hester Martin surveyed her thoughtfully. + +'I wouldn't do war-work all day, if I were you,' she said at last. 'Why +don't you go on with your sketching?' + +'I was going to try this very afternoon. Sir William said he would give +me a lesson,' was the listless reply. + +'He's coming here?' + +'He said he would be walking this way, if it was fine,' said Nelly, +indifferently. + +Both relapsed into silence. Then Miss Martin enquired after Bridget. The +face beside her darkened a little. + +'She's very well. She knows about the telegram. She thought I was a +great goose to be so anxious. She's making an index now--for the book!' + +'The psychology book?' + +'Yes!' A pause--then Nelly looked round, flushing. + +'I can't talk to Bridget you see--about George--or the war. She just +thinks the world's mad--that it's six to one and half a dozen to the +other--that it doesn't matter at all who wins--so long of course as the +Germans don't come here. And as for me, if I was so foolish as to marry +a soldier in the middle of the war, why I must just take the +consequences--grin and bear it!' + +Her tone and look showed that in her clinging way she had begun to +claim the woman beside her as a special friend, while Hester Martin's +manner towards her bore witness that the claim excited a warm +response--that intimacy and affection had advanced rapidly since George +Sarratt's departure. + +'Why do you put up with it?' said Miss Martin, sharply. 'Couldn't you +get some cousin--some friend to stay with you?' + +Nelly shook her head. 'George wanted me to. But I told him I couldn't. +It would mean a quarrel. I could never quarrel with Bridget.' + +Miss Martin laughed indignantly. 'Why not--if she makes you miserable?' + +'I don't know. I suppose I'm afraid of her. And besides'--the words +came reluctantly--: 'she does a lot for me. I _ought_ to be very +grateful!' + +Yes, Hester Martin did know that, in a sense, Bridget did 'a lot' for +her younger sisters. It was not many weeks since she had made their +acquaintance, but there had been time for her to see how curiously +dependent young Mrs. Sarratt was on Miss Cookson. There was no real +sympathy between them; nor could Miss Martin believe that there was ever +much sense of kinship. But whenever there was anything to be done +involving any friction with the outside world, Bridget was ready to do +it, while Nelly invariably shrank from it. + +For instance, some rather troublesome legal business connected with +Nelly's marriage, and the reinvestment of a small sum of money, had +descended on the young wife almost immediately after George's +departure. She could hardly bring herself to look at the letter. What +did it matter? Let their trustee settle it. To be worrying about it +seemed to be somehow taking her mind from George--to be breaking in on +that imaginative vision of him, and his life in the trenches, which +while it tortured her, yet filled the blank of his absence. So Bridget +did it all--corresponded peremptorily with their rather old and +incompetent trustee, got all the signatures necessary out of Nelly, and +carried the thing through. Again, on another and smaller occasion, Miss +Martin had seen the two sisters confronted with a scandalous overcharge +for the carriage of some heavy luggage from Manchester. Nelly was +aghast; but she would have paid the sum demanded like a lamb, if Bridget +had not stepped in--grappled with carter and railway company, while +Nelly looked on, helpless but relieved. + +It was clear that Nelly's inborn wish to be liked, her quivering +responsiveness, together with a strong dose of natural indolence, made +her hate disagreement or friction of any kind. She was always +yielding--always ready to give in. But when Bridget in her harsh +aggravating way fought things out and won, Nelly was indeed often made +miserable, by the _ricochet_ of the wrath roused by Bridget's methods +upon herself; but she generally ended, all the same, by realising that +Bridget had done her a service which she could not have done for +herself. + +Hester Martin frankly thought the sister odious, and pitied the bride +for having to live with her. All the same she often found herself +wondering how Nelly would ever manage the practical business of life +alone, supposing loneliness fell to her at any time. But why should it +fall to her?--unless indeed Sarratt were killed in action. If he +survived the war he would make her the best of guides and husbands; she +would have children; and her sweetness, her sensitiveness would stiffen +under the impact of life to a serviceable toughness. But meanwhile what +could she do--poor little Ariadne!--but 'live and be lovely'--sew and +knit, and gather sphagnum moss--dreaming half her time, and no doubt +crying half the night. What dark circles already round the beautiful +eyes! And how transparent were the girl's delicate hands! Miss Martin +felt that she was watching a creature on whom love had been acting with +a concentrated and stimulating energy, bringing the whole being suddenly +and rapidly into flower. And now, what had been only stimulus and warmth +had become strain, and, sometimes, anguish, or fear. The poor drooping +plant could with difficulty maintain itself. + +For the moment however, Nelly, in her vast relief, was ready to talk and +think of quite ordinary matters. + +'Bridget is in a good temper with me to-day!' she said presently, +looking with a smile at her companion--'because--since the telegram +came--I told her I would accept Miss Farrell's invitation to go and +spend a Sunday with them.' + +'Well, it might distract you. But you needn't expect to get much out of +Cicely!' + +The old face lit up with its tolerant, half-sarcastic smile. + +'I shall be dreadfully afraid of her!' said Nelly. + +'No need to be. William will keep her in order. She is a foolish woman, +Cicely, and her own worst enemy, but--somehow'--The speaker paused. She +was about to say--'somehow I am fond of her'--when she suddenly wondered +whether the remark would be true, and stopped herself. + +'I think she's very--very good-looking'--said Nelly, heartily. 'Only, +why'--she hesitated, but her half-laughing look continued the sentence. + +'Why does she blacken her eyebrows, and paint her lips, and powder her +cheeks? Is that what you mean?' + +Nelly's look was apologetic. 'She doesn't really want it, does she?' she +said shyly, as though remembering that she was speaking to a kinswoman +of the person discussed. 'She could do so well without it.' + +'No--to be quite candid, I don't think she _would_ look so well without +it. That's the worst of it. It seems to suit her to be made up!--though +everybody knows it _is_ make-up.' + +'Of course, if George wanted me to "make up," I should do it at once,' +said Nelly, thoughtfully, propping her chin on her hands, and staring at +the lake. 'But he hates it. Is--is Miss Farrell--' she looked +round--'in love with anybody?' + +Miss Martin laughed. + +'I'll leave you to find out--when you go there. So if your husband liked +you to paint and powder, you would do it?' + +The older woman looked curiously at her companion. As she sat there, on +a rock above the lake, in a grey nurse's dress with a nurse's bonnet +tied under her chin, Hester Martin conveyed an impression of rugged and +unconscious strength which seemed to fuse her with the crag behind her. +She had been gathering sphagnum moss on the fells almost from sunrise +that morning; and by tea-time she was expecting a dozen munition-workers +from Barrow, whom she was to house, feed and 'do for,' in her little +cottage over the week-end. In the interval, she had climbed the steep +path to that white farm where death had just entered, and having mourned +with them that mourn, she had come now, as naturally, to rejoice with +Nelly Sarratt. + +Nelly considered her question, but not in any doubtfulness of mind. + +'Indeed, I would,' she said, decidedly. 'Isn't it my duty to make George +happy?' + +'What "George"? If Mr. Sarratt wanted you to paint and powder----' + +'He wouldn't be the "George" I married? There's something in that!' +laughed Nelly. Then she lifted her hand to shade her eyes against the +westering sun--'Isn't that Sir William coming?' + +She pointed doubtfully to a distant figure walking along the path that +skirts the western edge of the lake. Miss Martin put up her glasses. + +'Certainly. Coming no doubt to give you a lesson. But where are your +sketching things?' + +Nelly rose in a hurry. + +'I forgot about them when I came out. The telegram--' She pressed her +hands to her eyes, with a long breath. + +'I'll run back for them. Will you tell him?' + +She departed, and Hester awaited her cousin. He came slowly along the +lake, his slight lameness just visible in his gait--otherwise a splendid +figure of a man, with a bare head, bearded and curled, like a Viking in +a drawing by William Morris. He carried various artist's gear slung +about him, and an alpenstock. His thoughts were apparently busy, for he +came within a few yards of Hester Martin, before he saw her. + +'Hullo! Hester--you here? I came to get some news of Mrs. Sarratt and +her husband. Is he all right?' + +Hester repeated the telegram, and added the information that seeing him +coming, Mrs. Sarratt had gone in search of her sketching things. + +'Ah!--I thought if she'd got good news she might like to begin,' said +Farrell. 'Poor thing--she's lucky! Our casualties these last few days +have been awful, and the gain very small. Men or guns--that's our +choice just now. And it will be months before we get the guns. So +practically, there's no choice. Somebody ought to be hung!' + +He sat down frowning. But his face soon cleared, and he began to study +the point of view. + +'Nothing to be made of it but a picture post-card,' he declared. +'However I daresay she'll want to try it. They always do--the beginners. +The more ambitious and impossible the thing, the better.' + +'Why don't you _teach_ her?' said Hester, severely. + +Farrell laughed. + +'Why I only want to amuse her, poor little soul!' he said, as he put his +easel together. 'Why should she take it seriously?' + +'She's more intelligence than you think.' + +'Has she? What a pity! There are so many intelligent people in the +world, and so few pretty ones,' + +He spoke with a flippant self-confidence that annoyed his cousin. But +she knew very well that she was poorly off in the gifts that were +required to scourge him. And there already was the light form of Nelly, +on the footbridge over the river. Farrell looked up and saw her coming. + +'Extraordinary--the grace of the little thing!' he said, half to +himself, half to Hester. 'And she knows nothing about it--or seems to.' + +'Do you imagine that her husband hasn't told her?' Hester's tone was +mocking. + +Farrell looked up in wonder. 'Sarratt? of course he has--so far as he +has eyes to see it. But he has no idea how remarkable it is.' + +'What? His wife's beauty? Nonsense!' + +'How could he? It wants a trained eye,' said Farrell, quite serious. +'Hush!--here she comes.' + +Nelly came up breathlessly, laden with her own paraphernalia. Farrell at +once perceived that she was pale and hollow-eyed. But her expression was +radiant. + +'How kind of you to come!' she said, looking up at him. 'You know I've +had good news--splendid news?' + +'I do indeed. I came to ask,' he said gravely. 'He's out of it for a +bit?' + +'Yes, for three weeks!' + +'So you can take a rest from worrying?' + +She nodded brightly, but she was not yet quite mistress of her nerves, +and her face quivered. He turned away, and began to set his palette, +while she seated herself. + +Hester watched the lesson for half an hour, till it was time to go and +make ready for her munition-workers. And she watched it with increasing +pleasure, and increasing scorn of a certain recurrent uneasiness she had +not been able to get rid of. Nothing could have been better than +Farrell's manner to Ariadne. It was friendly, chivalrous, +respectful--all it should be--with a note of protection, of unspoken +sympathy, which, coming from a man nearly twenty years older than the +little lady herself, was both natural and attractive. He made an +excellent teacher besides, handling her efforts with a mixture of +criticism and praise, which presently roused Nelly's ambition, and +kindled her cheeks and eyes. Time flew and when Hester Martin rose to +leave them, Nelly cried out in protest--'It can't be five o'clock!' + +'A quarter to--just time to get home before my girls arrive!' + +'Oh, and I must go too,' said Nelly regretfully. 'I promised Bridget I +would be in for tea. But I _was_ getting on--wasn't I?' She turned to +Farrell. + +'Swimmingly. But you've only just begun. Next time the sitting must be +longer.' + +'Will you--will you come in to tea?'--she asked him shyly. 'My sister +would be very glad.' + +'Many thanks--but I am afraid I can't. I shall be motoring back to +Carton to-night. To-morrow is one of my hospital days. I told you how I +divided my week, and salved my conscience.' + +He smiled down upon her from his great height, his reddish gold hair and +beard blown by the wind, and she seemed to realise him as a great, +manly, favouring presence, who made her feel at ease. + +Hester Martin had already vanished over the bridge, and Farrell and +Nelly strolled back more leisurely towards the lodgings, he carrying her +canvas sketching bag. + +On the way she conveyed to him her own and Bridget's acceptance of the +Carton invitation. + +'If Miss Farrell won't mind our clothes--or rather our lack of them! I +did mean to have my wedding dress altered into an evening +dress--but!----' + +She lifted her hand and let it fall, in a sad significant gesture which +pleased his fastidious eye. + +'You hadn't even the time of the heart for it? I should think not!' he +said warmly. 'Who cares about dress nowadays?' + +'Your sister!' thought Nelly--but aloud she said-- + +'Well then we'll come--we'll be delighted to come. May I see the +hospital?' + +'Of course. It's like any other hospital.' + +'Is it very full now?' she asked him uneasily, her bright look clouding. + +'Yes--but it ebbs and flows. Sometimes for a day or two all our men +depart. Then there is a great rush.' + +'Are they bad cases?' + +There was an unwilling insistence in her voice, as though her mind dealt +with images it would gladly have put away, but could not. + +'A good many of them. They send them us as straight as they can from the +front. But the surgeons are wonderfully skilful. It's simply marvelous +what they can do.' + +He seemed to see a shiver pass through her slight shoulders, and he +changed the subject at once. The Carton motor should come for her and +her sister, he said, whenever they liked, the following Saturday +afternoon. The run would take about an hour. Meanwhile-- + +'Do you want any more books or magazines?' he asked her smiling, with +the look of one only eager to be told how to serve her. They had paused +in the road outside the lodgings. + +'Oh I how could we! You sent us such a bundle!' cried Nelly gratefully. +'We are always finding something new in it. It makes the evenings so +different. We will bring them back when we come.' + +'Don't hurry. And go on with the drawing. I shall expect to see it a +great deal further on next time. It's all right so far.' + +He went his way back, speedily, taking a short cut over Loughrigg to his +cottage. His thoughts, as he climbed, were very full of Mrs. Sarratt. +But they were the thoughts of an artist--of a man who had studied +beauty, and the European tradition of beauty, whether in form or +landscape, for many years; who had worked--_à contre coeur_--in a Paris +studio, and had copied Tintoret--fervently--in Venice; who had been a +collector of most things, from Tanagra figures to Delia Robbias. She +made an impression upon him in her lightness and grace, her small +proportions, her lissomness of outline, very like that of a Tanagra +figure. How had she come to spring from Manchester? What kindred had she +with the smoke and grime of a great business city? He fell into amused +speculation. Manchester has always possessed colonies of Greek +merchants. Somewhere in the past was there some strain of southern blood +which might account for her? He remembered a beautiful Greek girl at an +Oxford Commemoration, when he had last attended that function; the +daughter of a Greek financier settled in London, whose still lovely +mother had been drawn and painted interminably by the Burne Jones and +William Morris group of artists. _She_ was on a larger scale than Mrs. +Sarratt, but the colour of the flesh was the same--as though light shone +through alabaster--and the sweetness of the deep-set eyes. Moreover she +had produced much the same effect on the bystander, as of a child of +nature, a creature of impulse and passion--passion, clinging and +self-devoted, not fierce and possessive--through all the more +superficial suggestions of reticence and self-control. 'This little +creature is only at the beginning of her life'--he thought, with a kind +of pity for her very softness and exquisiteness. 'What the deuce will +she have made of it, by the end? Why should such beings grow old?' + +His interest in her led him gradually to other thoughts--partly +disagreeable, partly philosophical. He had once--and only once--found +himself involved in a serious love-affair, which, as it had left him a +bachelor, had clearly come to no good. It was with a woman much older +than himself--gifted--more or less famous--a kind of modern Corinne whom +he had met for a month in Rome in his first youth. Corinne had laid +siege to him, and he had eagerly, whole-heartedly succumbed. He saw +himself, looking back, as the typically befooled and bamboozled mortal; +for Corinne, in the end, had thrown him over for a German professor, who +admired her books and had a villa on the Janiculum. During the eighteen +years which had elapsed since their adventure, he had quite made it up +with her, and had often called at the Janiculan villa, with its +antiques, its window to the view, and the great Judas tree between it +and Rome. His sense of escape--which grew upon him--was always tempered +by a keen respect for the lady's disinterestedness, and those high +ideals which must have led her--for what else could?--to prefer the +German professor, who had so soon become decrepit, to himself. But the +result of it all had been that the period of highest susceptibility and +effervescence had passed by, leaving him still unmarried. Since then he +had had many women-friends, following harmlessly a score of 'chance +desires'! But he had never wanted to marry anybody; and the idea of +surrendering the solitude and independence of his pleasant existence had +now become distasteful to him. Renan in some late book speaks of his +life as 'cette charmante promenade à travers la realité.' Farrell could +have adopted much the same words about his own--until the war. The war +had made him think a good deal, like Sarratt; though the thoughts of a +much travelled, epicurean man of the world were naturally very +different from those of the young soldier. At least 'the surge and +thunder' of the struggle had developed in Farrell a new sensitiveness, a +new unrest, as though youth had returned upon him. The easy, drifting +days of life before the catastrophe were gone. The 'promenade' was no +longer charming. But the jagged and broken landscape through which it +was now taking him, held him often--like so many others--breathless with +strange awes, strange questionings. And all the more, because, owing to +his physical infirmity, he must be perforce a watcher, a discontented +watcher, rather than an actor, in the great scene. + + * * * * * + +That night Nelly, sitting at her open window, with starlight on the +lake, and the cluster rose sending its heavy scent into the room--wrote +to her husband. + +'My darling--it is just a little more than eight hours since I got your +telegram. Sometimes it seems like nothing--and then like _days_--days of +happiness. I was _very_ anxious. But I know I oughtn't to write about +that. You say it helps you if I keep cheerful, and always expect the +best and not the worst. Indeed, George, I do keep cheerful. Ask Miss +Martin--ask Bridget--' + +At this point two splashes fell, luckily not on the letter, but on the +blotting paper beside it, and Nelly hastily lifted her handkerchief to +dry a pair of swimming eyes. + +'But he can't see--he won't know!' she thought, apologising to herself; +yet wrestling at the same time with the sharp temptation to tell him +exactly how she had suffered, that he might comfort her. But she +repelled it. Her moral sense told her that she ought to be sustaining +and strengthening him--rather than be hanging upon him the burden of her +own fears and agonies. + +She went on bravely-- + +'Of course, after the news in the paper this morning,--and yesterday--I +was worried till I heard. I knew--at any rate I guessed--you must have +been in it all. And now you are safe, my own own!--for three whole +blessed weeks. Oh, how well I shall sleep all that time--and how much +work I shall do! But it won't be all war-work. Sir William Farrell came +over to-day, and showed me how to begin a drawing of the lake. I shall +finish it for your birthday, darling. Of course you won't want to be +bothered with it out there. I shall keep it till you come. The lake is +so beautiful to-night, George. It is warmer again, and the stars are all +out. The mountains are so blue and quiet--the water so still. But for +the owls, everything seems asleep. But they call and call--and the echo +goes round the lake. I can just see the island, and the rocks round +which the boat drifted--that last night. How good you were to me--how I +loved to sit and look at you, with the light on your dear face--and the +oars hanging--and the shining water-- + +'And then I think of where you are--and what you have been seeing in +that awful fighting. But not for long. I try to put it away. + +'George, darling!--you know what you said when you went away--what you +hoped might come--to make us both happy--and take my thoughts off the +war? But, dear, it isn't so--you mustn't hope it. I shall be dreadfully +sorry if you are disappointed. But you'll only find _me_--your own +Nelly--not changed a bit--when you come back. + +'I want to hear everything when you write--how your men did--whether you +took any prisoners, whether there was ammunition enough, or whether you +were short again? I feel every day that I ought to go and make +munitions--but somehow--I can't. We are going to Carton on Saturday. +Bridget is extremely pleased. I rather dread it. But I shall be able to +write you a long letter about it on Sunday morning, instead of going to +church. There is Rydal chapel striking twelve! My darling--my +darling!--good-night.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The following Saturday afternoon, at three o'clock, the Carton motor +duly arrived at the Rydal cottage door. It was a hot summer day, the +mountains colourless and small under their haze of heat, the woods +darkening already towards the August monotony, the streams low and +shrunken. Lakeland was at the moment when the artists who haunt her +would rather not paint her, remembering the subtleties of spring, and +looking forward to the pageantry of autumn. But for the eye that loves +her she has beauties enough at any time, and no blanching heat and dust +can spoil the lovely or delicate things that lie waiting in the shade of +her climbing oak-woods or on her bare fells, or beside her still lakes. + +Nelly took her seat in the landaulette, with Bridget beside her. Milly +and Mrs. Weston admiringly watched their departure from the doorway of +the lodgings, and they were soon speeding towards Grasmere and Dunmail +Raise. Nelly's fresh white dress, aided by the blue coat and shady hat +which George had thought so ravishing, became her well; and she was +girlishly and happily aware of it. Her spirits were high, for there in +the little handbag on her wrist lay George's last letter, received that +morning, short and hurried, written just to catch the post, on his +arrival at the rest camp, thirty miles behind the line. Heart-ache and +fear, if every now and then their black wings brushed her, and far +within, a nerve quivered, were mostly quite forgotten. Youth, the joy of +being loved, the joy of mere living, reclaimed her. + +Bridget beside her, in a dark blue cotton, with a very fashionable hat, +looked more than her thirty years, and might almost have been taken for +Nelly's mother. She sat erect, her thin straight shoulders carrying her +powerful head and determined face; and she noticed many things that +quite escaped her sister: the luxury of the motor for instance; the +details of the Farrell livery worn by the two discharged soldiers who +sat in front as chauffeur and footman; and the evident fact that while +small folk must go without servants, the rich seemed to have no +difficulty in getting as many as they wanted. + +'I wonder what this motor cost?' she said presently in a speculative +tone, as they sped past the turn to Grasmere church and began to ascend +the pass leading to Keswick. + +'Well, we know--about--don't we?' said Nelly vaguely. And she guessed a +sum, at which Bridget looked contemptuous. + +'More than _that_, my dear! However of course it doesn't matter to +them.' + +'Don't you think people look at us sometimes, as though we were doing +something wrong?' said Nelly uneasily. They had just passed two old +labourers--fine patriarchal fellows who had paused a moment to gaze at +the motor and the two ladies. 'I suppose it's because--because we look +so smart.' + +'Well, why shouldn't we?' + +'Because it's war-time I suppose,' said Nelly slowly--'and perhaps +their sons are fighting--' + +'We're not fighting!' + +'No--but--.' With a slight frown, Nelly tried to express herself. 'It +looks as if we were just living as usual, while--Oh, you know, Bridget, +what people think!--how _everybody's_ trying not to spend money on +themselves.' + +'Are they?' Bridget laughed aloud. 'Look at all the dress advertisements +in the papers. Why, yesterday, when I was having tea with those people +at Windermere, there was a man there telling lots of interesting things. +He said he knew some great merchants in the city, who had spent +thousands and thousands on furs--expensive furs--the summer before the +war. And they thought they'd all have been left on their hands, that +they'd have lost heavily. And instead of that they sold them all, and +made a real big profit!' + +Bridget turned an almost triumphant look on her sister, as though the +_coup_ described had been her own. + +'Well, it isn't right!' said Nelly, passionately. 'It isn't--it +_isn't_--Bridget! When the war's costing so much--and people are +suffering and dying--' + +'Oh, I know!' said Bridget hastily. 'You needn't preach to me my dear +child. I only wanted you to look at _facts_. You're always so incurably +sentimental!' + +'I'm not!' Nelly protested, helplessly. 'We _make_ the facts. If nobody +bought the furs, the facts would be different. George says it's wicked +to squander money, and live as if everything were just the same as it +used to be. And I agree with him!' + +'Of course you do!' laughed Bridget. '_You_ don't squander money, my +dear!' + +'Only because I haven't got it to spend, you mean?' said Nelly, +flushing. + +'No--but you should look at things sensibly. The people who are making +money are spending it--oceans of it! And the people who have money, like +the Farrells, are spending it too. Wait till you see how they live!' + +'But there's the hospital!' cried Nelly. + +Bridget shrugged her shoulders. + +'That's because they can afford to give the hospital, and have the +motor-cars too. If they had to choose between hospitals and motor-cars!' + +'Lots of people do!' + +'You think Sir William Farrell looks like doing without things?' said +Bridget, provokingly. Then she checked herself. 'Of course I like Sir +William very much. But then _I_ don't see why he shouldn't have +motor-cars or any other nice thing he wants.' + +'That's because--you don't think enough--you never think enough--about +the war!' said Nelly, insistently. + +Bridget's look darkened. + +'I would stop the war to-morrow--I would make peace to-morrow--if I +could--you know I would. It will destroy us all--ruin us all. It's +sheer, stark lunacy. There, you know what I think!' + +'I don't see what it's ever cost you, Bridget!' said Nelly, breathing +fast. + +'Oh, well, it's very easy to say that--but it isn't argument.' + +Bridget's deep-set penetrating eyes glittered as she turned them on her +sister. 'However, for goodness' sake, don't let's quarrel about it. It's +a lovely day, and we don't often have a motor like this to drive in!' + +The speaker leant back, giving herself up to the sensuous pleasure of +the perfectly hung car, and the rapid movement through the summer air. +Wythburn and Thirlmere were soon passed; leaving them just time to +notice the wrack and ruin which Manchester has made of the once lovely +shore of Thirlmere, where hideous stretches of brown mud, and the ruins +of long submerged walls and dwellings, reappear with every dry summer to +fling reproach in the face of the destroyer. + +Now they were on the high ground above Keswick; and to the west and +north rose a superb confusion of mountain-forms, peaked and rounded and +cragged, with water shining among them, and the silver cloud wreaths +looped and threaded through the valleys, leaving the blue or purple +tops suspended, high in air, unearthly and alone, to parley with the +setting sun. Not yet setting indeed--but already flooding the west with +a glory in which the further peaks had disappeared--burnt away; a +shining holocaust to the Gods of Light and Fire. + +Then a sharp descent, a run through Keswick, another and a tamer lake, a +sinking of the mountain-forms, and they were nearing the woods of +Carton. Both sisters had been silent for some time. Nelly was wrapt in +thoughts of George. Would he get leave before Christmas? Suppose he were +wounded slightly--just a wound that would send him home, and let her +nurse him?--a wound from which he would be sure to get well--not too +quickly! She could not make up her mind to wish it--to pray for it--it +seemed like tempting Providence. But how she had envied a young couple +whom she sometimes met walking on the Ambleside road!--a young private +of one of the Border regiments, with a bandaged arm, and his sweetheart. +Once--with that new free-masonry which the war has brought about, she +had stopped to speak to them. The boy had been quite ready to talk about +his wound. It had seemed nothing at first--just a fragment of +shrapnel--he had scarcely known he was hit. But abscess after abscess +had formed--a leading nerve had been injured--it might be months before +he could use it again. And meanwhile the plain but bright-faced girl +beside him was watching over him; he lodged with her parents as his own +were dead; and they were to be married soon. No chance of his going out +again! The girl's father would give him work in his garage. They had the +air of persons escaped from shipwreck and ashamed almost of their own +secret happiness, while others were still battling with and sinking in +the waves. + + * * * * * + +A flowery lodge, a long drive through green stretches of park, with a +heather fell for background--and then the motor, leaving to one side a +huge domed pile with the Union Jack floating above it, ran through a +wood, and drew up in front of Carton Cottage, a low building on the +steps of which stood Sir William Farrell. + +'Delighted to see you! Come in, and let Cicely give you some tea. +They'll see to your luggage!' + +He led in Nelly, and Bridget followed, glancing from side to side, with +an eye shrewdly eager, an eye that took in and appraised all it saw. A +cottage indeed! It had been built by Sir William's father, for his only +sister, a maiden lady, to whom he was much attached. 'Aunt Sophy' had +insisted on a house to herself, being a person of some ruggedness and +eccentricity of character and averse to any sort of dependence on other +people's ways and habits. But she had allowed her brother to build and +furnish the cottage for her as lavishly as he pleased, and during his +long widowhood she had been of much help to him in the management of +the huge household at Carton Hall, and in the bringing up of his two +children. After her death, the house had remained empty for some time, +till, six months after the outbreak of war, Farrell had handed over the +Hall to the War Office, and he and his sister had migrated to the +smaller house. + +Bridget was aware, as she followed her sister, of rooms small but +numerous opening out on many sides, of long corridors with glistening +teak floors, of windows open to a garden ablaze with roses. Sir William +led them to what seemed a buzz of voices, and opened a door. + +Cicely Farrell rose languidly from a table surrounded by laughing young +men, and advanced to meet the newcomers. Nelly found herself shaking +hands with the Captain Marsworth she had seen at Loughrigg Tarn, and +being introduced by Sir William to various young officers, some in +khaki, visitants from a neighbouring camp, and some from the Hall, in +various forms of convalescent undress, grey flannel suits, khaki tunics +with flannel 'slacks,' or full khaki, as the wearers pleased. The little +lady in white had drawn all the male eyes upon her as she came in, and +those who rapidly resumed their talk with Miss Farrell or each other, +interrupted by the entrance of the newcomers, were no less aware of her +than those who, with Farrell, devoted themselves to supply the two +sisters with tea. + +Nelly herself, extremely shy, but sustained somehow by the thought that +she must hold her own in this new world, was soon deep in conversation +with a charming youth, who owned a long, slightly lantern-jawed face and +fair hair, moved on crutches with a slung knee, and took everything +including his wound as 'funny.' + +'Where is your husband?' he asked her. 'Sir William thinks he is +somewhere near Festubert? My hat, the Lanchesters have been having a hot +time there!--funny, isn't it? But they'll be moved to an easier job +soon. They're always in luck--the Lanchesters--funny, I call it?--what? +I wouldn't worry if I were you. Your husband's got through this all +right--mightn't have another such show for ages. These things are awful +chancey--funny, isn't it? Oh, my wound?--well, it was just when I was +getting over the parados to move back to billets--that the brute got me. +Funny, wasn't it? Hullo!--here's a swell! My hat!--it's General Torr!' + +Nelly looked up bewildered to see a group of officers enter the room, +headed by a magnificent soldier, with light brown hair, handsome +features, and a broad be-ribboned chest. Miss Farrell greeted him and +his comrades with her best smiles; and Nelly observed her closely, as +she stood laughing and talking among them. Sir William's sister was in +uniform, if it could be called a uniform. She wore a nurse's cap and +apron over a pale blue dress of some soft crapey material. The cap was a +square of fine lawn, two corners of which were fastened under the chin +with a brooch consisting of one large pearl. The open throat showed a +single string of fine pearls, and diamonds sparkled in the small ears. +Edging the cap on the temples and cheeks were little curls--a la +Henrietta Maria--and the apron, also of the finest possible lawn, had a +delicately embroidered edge. The lips of the wearer had been +artificially reddened, her eyebrows and eyelids had been skilfully +pencilled, her cheeks rouged. A more extraordinary specimen of the +nursing sisterhood it would have been impossible to find. Nevertheless +the result was, beyond gainsaying, both amusing and picturesque. The lad +beside Nelly watched Miss Farrell with a broad grin. On the other hand, +a lady in a thin black dress and widow's veil, who was sitting near +Bridget, turned away after a few minutes' observation of the hostess, +and with a curling lip began to turn over a book lying on a table near +her. But whether the onlookers admired or disapproved, there could be no +question that Miss Farrell held the field. + +'I am very glad to hear that Mrs. Sarratt has good news of her husband!' +said Captain Marsworth courteously to Bridget, hardly able to make +himself heard however amid the din and laughter of the central group. He +too had been watching Cicely Farrell--but with a wholly impassive +countenance. Bridget made some indifferent answer, and then eagerly +asked who the visitors were. She was told that they were officers from a +neighbouring camp, including the general commanding the camp. Sir +William, said Captain Marsworth, had built the whole camp at his own +expense, and on his own land, without waiting for any government +contractor. + +'I suppose he is so enormously rich--he can do anything he wants!' said +Bridget, her face kindling. 'It must be grand never to think what you +spend.' + +Captain Marsworth was a trifle taken aback by the remark, as Sir William +was barely a couple of yards away. + +'Yes, I daresay it's convenient,' he said, lightly. 'And what do you +find to do with yourself at Rydal?' + +Bridget informed him briefly that she was correcting some proof-sheets +for a friend, and would then have an index to make. + +Captain Marsworth looked at her curiously. + +'May one ask what the book is?' + +'It's something new about psychology,' said Bridget, calmly. 'It's going +to be a great deal talked about. My friend's awfully clever.' + +'Ah! Doesn't she find it a little difficult to think about psychology +just now?' + +'Why should she? Somebody's got to think about psychology,' was the +sharp reply. 'You can't let everything go, because there's a war.' + +'I see! You remind me of a man I know, who's translating Dante. He's +just over military age, and there he sits in a Devonshire valley, with a +pile of books. I happen to know a particular department in a public +office that's a bit hustled for want of men, and I suggested that he +should lend a hand. He said it was his business to keep culture going!' + +'Well?' said Bridget. + +The challenging obstinacy of her look daunted him. He laughed. + +'You think it natural--and right--to take the war like that?' + +'Well, I don't see who's got a right to interfere with you if you do,' +she said, stiffly. Then, however, it occurred even to her obtuse and +self-centred perception, that she was saying something unexpected and +distasteful to a man who was clearly a great friend of the Farrells, and +therefore a member of the world she envied. So she changed the subject. + +'Does Miss Farrell ever do any real nursing?' she asked abruptly. + +Captain Marsworth's look became, in a moment, reserved and cold. 'She's +always ready to do anything for any of us!' + +Then the speaker rose. 'I see Sir William's preparing to take your +sister into the gardens. You certainly ought to see them. They're very +famous.' + + * * * * * + +The party streamed out into the paths leading through a wood, and past a +series of water-lily pools to the walled gardens. Sir William walked in +front with Nelly. + +'My brother's new craze!' said Cicely in the ear of the General beside +her, who being of heroic proportions had to stoop some way to hear the +remark. He followed the direction of her eyes. + +'What, that little woman? A vision! Is it only looks, or is there +something besides?' + +Cicely shrugged her shoulders. + +'I don't know. I haven't found out. The sister's plain, disagreeable, +stupid.' + +'She looks rather clever.' + +'Doesn't that show she's stupid? Nobody ought to look clever. Do you +admire Mrs. Sarratt?' + +'Can one help it? Or are you going also to maintain,' laughed the +general, 'that no one can be beautiful who looks it?' + +'One _could_ maintain it--easily. The best kind of beauty has always to +be discovered. What do you think, Captain Marsworth?' + +She turned--provokingly--to the soldier on her left hand. + +'About beauty?' He looked up listlessly. 'I've no idea. The day's too +hot.' + +Cicely eyed him. + +'You're tired!' she said peremptorily. 'You've been doing too much. You +ought to go and rest.' + +He smiled, and standing back he let them pass him. Turning into a side +path he disappeared towards the hospital. + +'Poor old fellow!--he still looks very delicate,' said the General. 'How +is he really getting on?' + +'The arm's improving. He's having massage and electricity. Sometimes he +seems perfectly well,' said Cicely. An oddly defiant note had crept into +the last sentence. + +'He looks down--out of spirits. Didn't he lose nearly all his friends at +Neuve Chapelle?' + +'Yes, some of his best friends.' + +'And half the battalion! He always cared enormously about his men. He +and I, you know, fought in South Africa together. Of course then he was +just a young subaltern. He's a splendid chap! I'm afraid he won't get to +the front again. But of course they'll find him something at home. He +ought to marry--get a wife to look after him. By the way, somebody told +me there was some talk about him and the daughter of the rector here. A +nice little girl. Do you know her?' + +'Miss Stewart? Yes.' + +'What do you think of her?' + +'A little nincompoop. Quite harmless!' + +The handsome hero smiled--unseen by his companion. + +Meanwhile Farrell was walking with Nelly through the stately series of +walled gardens, which his grandfather had planned and carried out, +mainly it seemed for the boredom of the grandson. + +'What do we want with all these things now?' he said, waving an +impatient hand, as he and Nelly stood at the top flight of steps looking +down upon the three gardens sloping to the south, with their fragments +of statuary, and old leaden statuettes, ranged along the central walks. +'They're all out of date. They were before the war; and the war has +given them the _coup de grâce_. No more big estates--no more huge +country houses! My grandfather built and built, for the sake of +building, and I pay for his folly. After the war!--what sort of a world +shall we tumble into!' + +'I don't want these gardens destroyed!' said Nelly, looking up at him. +'No one ought to spoil them. They're far too beautiful!' + +She was beginning to speak with more freedom, to be less afraid of him. +The gap between her small provincial experience and modes of thought, +and his, was narrowing. Each was beginning to discover the inner +personality of the other. And the more Farrell explored her the more +charmed he was. She was curiously ignorant, whether of books or life. +Even the busy commercial life amid which she had been brought up, as it +seemed to him, she had observed but little. When he asked her questions +about Manchester, she was generally vague or puzzled. He saw that she +was naturally romantic; and her passion for the absent Sarratt, together +with her gnawing anxiety about him which could not be concealed, made +her, again, very touching in the eyes of a man of imagination whose +feelings were quick and soft. He walked about with her for more than an +hour, discoursing ironically on the Grecian temples, the rustic bridges +and pools and fountains, now in imitation of the older Versailles and +now of the Trianon, with which his grandfather had burdened his +descendants; so that the glorious evening, as it descended, presently +became a merry duel between him and her, she defending and admiring his +own possessions, and he attacking them. Her eyes sparkled, and a bright +red--a natural red--came back into her pale cheeks. She spoke and moved +with an evident exhilaration, as though she realised her own developing +powers, and was astonished by her own readiness of speech, and the sheer +pleasure of talk. And something, no doubt, entered in of the new scene; +its scale and magnificence, so different from anything she had yet +known; its suggestion of a tradition reaching back through many +generations, and of a series of lives relieved from all vulgar +necessities, playing as they pleased with art and money, with water and +wood. + +At the same time she was never merely dazzled; and never, for one +moment, covetous or envious. He was struck with her simple dignity and +independence; and he perfectly understood that a being so profoundly in +love, and so overshadowed by a great fear, could only lend, so to speak, +her outer mind to Carton or the persons in it. He gathered roses for +her, and did his utmost to please her. But she seemed to him all the +time like a little hovering elf--smiling and gay--but quite intangible. + + * * * * * + +Dinner in the 'cottage' was short, but in Bridget's eyes perfect. +Personally, she was not enjoying herself very much, for she had made up +her mind that she did not get on with military men, and that it was +their fault, not hers; so that she sat often silent, a fact however +unnoticed in the general clatter of the table. She took it quite calmly, +and was more than compensated for the lack of conversation by the whole +spectacle of the Farrell wealth; the flowers, the silver, the costly +accessories of all kinds, which even in war-time, and in a 'cottage,' +seemed to be indispensable. It would have been more amusing, no doubt, +if it had been the big house and not the cottage. Sometimes through the +open windows and the trees, she caught sight of the great lighted pile a +little way off, and found herself dreaming of what it would be to live +there, and to command all that these people commanded. She saw herself +sweeping through the magnificent rooms, giving orders, inviting guests, +entertaining royalty, driving about the country in splendid motors. It +was a waking dream, and though she never uttered a word, the animation +of her thoughts infused a similar animation into her aspect, and made +her almost unconscious of her neighbours. Captain Marsworth made several +attempts to win her attention before she heard him. + +'Yes.' + +She turned at last an absent glance upon him. + +'Miss Farrell talks of our all going over to the hospital after dinner. +She and Sir William often spend the evening there,' said Captain +Marsworth, quite aware from Miss Farrell's frequent glances in his +direction that he was not in her opinion doing his duty with Miss +Cookson. + +'Will it take us long?' said Bridget, the vivacity of her look dying +out. + +'As long as you please to stay!' laughed the Captain, drily. + + * * * * * + +That passage after dinner through the convalescent wards of the finely +equipped hospital was to Nelly Sarratt an almost intolerable experience. +She went bravely through it, leaving, wherever she talked to a +convalescent, an impression of shy sweetness behind her, which made a +good many eyes follow her as Farrell led her through the rooms. But she +was thankful when it was over; and when, at last, she was alone in her +room for the night, she flew--for consolation--to the drawer in which +she had locked her writing-desk, and the letters she had received that +morning. The post had just arrived as they were leaving Rydal, and she +had hastily torn open a letter from George, and thrust the others into a +large empty envelope. And now she discovered among them to her delight a +second letter from George, unopened. What unexpected joy! + +It too was dated--'Somewhere in France'--and had been written two days +after the letter she had opened in the morning. + +'My darling--we're having a real jolly time here--in an old village, +far behind the line, and it is said we shall be here for three whole +weeks. Well, some of us really wanted it, for the battalion has been in +some very hot fighting lately, and has had a nasty bit of the line to +look after for a long time--with nothing very much to show for it. My +platoon has lost some of its best men, and I've been pretty badly hit, +as some of them were real chums of mine--the bravest and dearest +fellows. And I don't know why, but for the first time, I've been feeling +rather jumpy and run down. So I went to a doctor, and he told me I'd +better go off duty for a fortnight. But just then, luckily, the whole +battalion was ordered, as I told you a week ago, into what's called +"divisional rest," so here we are--for three weeks! Quite good +billets--an old French farm--with two good barns and lots of straw for +the men, and an actual bedroom for me--and a real bed--_with sheets!_ +Think of that! I am as comfortable as possible. Just at first I'm going +to stay in bed for a couple of days to please the doctor--but then I +shall be all right, and shall probably take a course of gymnastics +they're starting here--odd, isn't it?--like putting us to school +again!--so that I may be quite fit before going back to the front. + +'One might almost forget the war here, if it weren't for the rumble of +the guns which hardly ever ceases. They are about thirty-five miles +away. The whole country is quite peaceful, and the crops coming on +splendidly. The farm produces delicious brown eggs--and you should +see--and _taste_--the omelets the farmer's wife makes! Coffee +too--first-rate! How these French women work! Our men are always +helping them, and the children hang round our Tommies like flies. + +'These two days in bed are a godsend, for I can read all your letters +through again. There they are--spread out on my sheet! By Jove, little +woman, you've treated me jolly well! And now I can pay you back a +little. But perhaps you won't mind, dearest, if I don't write anything +very long, for I expect I ought to take it easy--for a bit--I can't +think why I should have felt so slack. I never knew anything about +nerves before. But the doctor has been very nice and understanding--a +real, decent fellow. He declares I shall be as fit as a fiddle, long +before the three weeks are done. + +'My bedroom door is open, and some jolly yellow chickens are wandering +in and out. And sometimes the farmer's youngest--a nice little chap of +eight--comes to look at me. I teach him English--or I try--but when I +say the English words, he just doubles up with laughing and runs away. +Nelly, my precious--if I shut my eyes--I can fancy your little head +there--just inside the door--and your eyes looking at me!...May the Lord +give us good luck--and may we all be home by Christmas!--Mind you finish +that sketch!' + +She put the letter down with a rather tremulous hand. It had depressed +her, and made her anxious. She read in it that George had been through +horrible things--and had suffered. + +Then all that she had seen in the hospital came back upon her, and +rising restlessly she threw herself, without undressing, face downwards +on her bed. That officer, blanched to the colour of white wax, who had +lost a leg after frightful haemorrhage; that other, the merest boy, +whose right eye had been excised--she could not get them out of her +mind, nor the stories they had told her of the actions in which they had +been wounded. + +'George--George!' It was a moan of misery, stifled in the darkness. + +Then, suddenly, she remembered she had not said good-night to Bridget. +She had forgotten Bridget. She had been unkind. She got up, and sped +along the passage to Bridget's room. + +'Bridget!' She just opened the door. 'May I come in?' + +'Come in.' + +Bridget was already in bed. In her hands was a cup of steaming chocolate +which a maid had just brought her, and she was lingering over it with a +face of content. + +Nelly opened her eyes in astonishment. + +'Did you ask for it, Bridget?' + +'I did--or rather the housemaid asked what I would have. She +said--"ladies have just what they like in their rooms." So I asked for +chocolate.' + +Nelly sat down on the bed. + +'Is it good?' + +'Excellent,' said Bridget calmly. 'Whatever did you expect?' + +'We seem to have been eating ever since we came!' said Nelly +frowning,--'and they call it economising!' + +Bridget threw back her head with a quiet laugh. + +'Didn't I tell you so?' + +'I wondered how you got on at dinner?' said Nelly hesitating. 'Captain +Marsworth didn't seem to be taking much trouble?' + +'It didn't matter to me,' said Bridget. 'That kind of man always behaves +like that,' + +Nelly flushed. + +'You mean soldiers behave like that?' + +'Well, I don't like soldiers--brothers-in-law excepted, of course.' And +Bridget gave her short, rather harsh laugh. + +Nelly got up. + +'Well, I shall be ready to go as early as you like on Monday, Bridget. +It was awfully good of you to pack all my things so nicely!' + +'Don't I always?' Bridget laughed. + +'You do--you do indeed. Good-night.' + +She touched Bridget's cheek with her lips and stole away. + +Bridget was left to think. There was a dim light in the room showing the +fine inlaid furniture, the flowery paper, the chintz-covered arm-chairs +and sofa, and, through an open door, part of the tiled wall of the +bathroom. + +Miss Cookson had never slept in such a room before, and every item in +it pleased a starved sense in her. Poverty was _hateful_! Could one +never escape it? + +Then she closed her eyes, and seemed to be watching Sir William and +Nelly in the gardens, his protecting eager air--her face looking up. Of +_course_ she might have married him--with the greatest ease!--if only +George Sarratt had not been in the way. + +But supposing-- + +All the talk that evening had been of a new 'push'--a new and steady +offensive, as soon as the shell supply was better. George would be in +that 'push.' Nobody expected it for another month. By that time he would +be back at the front. She lay and thought, her eyes closed, her harsh +face growing a little white and pinched under the electric lamp beside +her. Potentially, her thoughts were murderous. The _wish_ that George +might not return formed itself clearly, for the first time, in her mind. +Dreams followed, as to consequences both for Nelly and herself, +supposing he did not return. And in the midst of them she fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +August came, the second August of the war. The heart of England was sad +and sick, torn by the losses at Gallipoli, by the great disaster of the +Russian retreat, by the shortage of munitions, by the endless small +fighting on the British front, which eat away the young life of our +race, week by week, and brought us no further. But the spirit of the +nation was rising--and its grim task was becoming nakedly visible at +last. _Guns--men!_ Nothing else to say--nothing else to do. + +George Sarratt's battalion returned to the fighting line somewhere about +the middle of August. 'But we are only marking time,' he wrote to his +wife. 'Nothing doing here, though the casualties go on every day. +However we all know in our bones there will be plenty to do soon. As for +me I am--more or less--all right again.' + +Indeed, as September wore on, expectation quickened on both sides of the +Channel. Nelly went in fear of she knew not what. The newspapers said +little, but through Carton and the Farrells, she heard a great deal of +military gossip. The shell supply was improving--the new Ministry of +Munitions beginning to tell--a great blow was impending. + +Weeks of rain and storm died down into an autumnal gentleness. The +bracken was turning on the hills, the woods beginning to dress for the +pageant of October. The sketching lessons which the usual August deluge +had interrupted were to begin again, as soon as Farrell came home. He +had been in France for a fortnight, at Etaples, and in Paris, studying +new methods and appliances for the benefit of the hospital. But whether +he was at home or no, the benefactions of Carton never ceased. Almost +every other day a motor from the Hall drove up laden with fruit and +flowers, with books and magazines. + +The fourth week of September opened. The rumours of coming events crept +more heavily and insistently than ever through a sudden spell of heat +that hung over the Lakes. Nelly Sarratt slept little, and wrote every +day to her George, letters of which long sections were often destroyed +when written, condemned for lack of cheerfulness. + +She was much touched by Farrell's constant kindness, and grateful for +it; especially because it seemed to keep Bridget in a good temper. She +was grateful too for the visitors whom a hint from him would send on +fine afternoons to call on the ladies at Rydal--convalescent officers, +to whom the drive from Carton, and tea with 'the pretty Mrs. Sarratt' +were an attraction, while Nelly would hang breathless on their gossip of +the war, until suddenly, perhaps, she would turn white and silent, lying +back in her garden chair with the look which the men talking to +her--brave, kind-hearted fellows--soon learnt to understand. Marsworth +came occasionally, and Nelly grew to like him sincerely, and to be +vaguely sorry for him, she hardly knew why. Cicely Farrell apparently +forgot them entirely. And in August and the first part of September she +too, according to Captain Marsworth's information, had been away, paying +visits. + +On the morning of September 26th, the Manchester papers which reached +the cottage with the post contained columns of telegrams describing the +British attack at Loos, and the French 'push' in Champagne. Among the +letters was a short word from Sarratt, dated the 24th. 'We shall +probably be in action to-morrow, dearest. I will wire as soon as I can, +but you must not be anxious if there is delay. As far as I can judge it +will be a big thing. You may be sure I shall take all the precautions +possible. God bless you, darling. Your letters are _everything_.' + +Nelly read the letter and the newspaper, her hands trembling as she held +it. At breakfast, Bridget eyed her uncomfortably. + +'He'll be all right!' she said with harsh decision. 'Don't fret.' + +The day passed, with heavy heat mists over the Lake, the fells and the +woods blotted out. On pretence of sketching, Nelly spent the hours on +the side of Loughrigg, trying sometimes to draw or sew, but for the most +part, lying with shut eyes, hidden among the bracken. Her faculty for +dreaming awake--for a kind of visualisation sharper than most people +possess--had been much developed since George's departure. It partly +tormented, partly soothed her. + +Night came without news. 'I _can't_ hear till to-morrow night,' she +thought, and lay still all night patient and sleepless, her little hands +crossed on her breast. The window was wide open and she could see the +stars peering over Loughrigg. + +Next morning, fresh columns in the newspaper. The action was still going +on. She must wait. And somehow it was easier to wait this second day; +she felt more cheerful. Was there some secret voice telling her that if +he were dead, she would have heard? + +After lunch she set out to take some of the Carton flowers to the +farmer's wife living in a fold of the fell, who had lost her only son in +the July fighting. Hester Martin had guided her there one day, and some +fellow-feeling had established itself rapidly between Nelly, and the +sad, dignified woman, whose duties went on as usual while all that gave +them zest had departed. + +The distance was short, and she left exact word where she could be +found. As she climbed the narrow lane leading to the farm, she presently +heard a motor approaching. The walls enclosing the lane left barely room +to pass. She could only scramble hurriedly up a rock which had been +built into the wall, and hold on to a young tree growing from it. The +motor which was large and luxurious passed slowly, and in the car she +saw two young men, one pale and sickly-looking, wrapped in a great-coat +though the day was stuffily warm: the other, the driver, a tall and +stalwart fellow, who threw Nelly a cold, unfriendly look as they went +by. Who could they be? The road only led to the farm, and when Nelly had +last visited Mrs. Grayson, a week before, she and her old husband and a +granddaughter of fourteen had been its only inmates. + +Mrs. Grayson received her with a smile. + +'Aye, aye, Mrs. Sarratt, coom in. Yo're welcome.' + +But as Nelly entered the flagged kitchen, with its joints of bacon and +its bunches of dried herbs, hanging from the low beamed ceiling, its +wide hob grate, its dresser, table and chairs of old Westmorland oak, +every article in it shining with elbow-grease,--she saw that Mrs. +Grayson looked particularly tired and pale. + +'Yo mun ha' passed them in t' lane?' said the farmer's wife wearily, +when the flowers had been admired and put in water, and Nelly had been +established in the farmer's own chair by the fire, while his wife +insisted on getting an early cup of tea. + +'Who were they, Mrs. Grayson?' + +'Well, they're nobbut a queer soart, Mrs. Sarratt--and I'd be glad to +see t' back on 'em. They're "conscientious objectors"--that's what they +are--an my husband coom across them in Kendal toother day. He'd +finished wi t' market, and he strolled into the room at the Town Hall, +where the men were coomin' in--yo know--to sign on for the war. An' he +got talkin' wi' these two lads, who were lookin' on as he was. And they +said they was "conscientious objectors"--and wouldn't fight not for +nothing nor nobody. But they wouldn't mind doing their bit in other +ways, they said. So John he upped and said--would they coom and help him +with his second crop o' hay--you know we've lost nearly all our men, +Mrs. Sarratt--and they said they would--and that very evening he brought +'em along. And who do you think they are?' + +Nelly could not guess; and Mrs. Grayson explained that the two young men +were the wealthy sons of a wealthy Liverpool tradesman and were starting +a branch of their father's business in Kendal. They had each of them a +motor, and apparently unlimited money. They had just begun to be useful +in the hay-making--'But they wouldn't _touch_ the stock--they wouldn't +kill anything--not a rat! They wouldn't even shoo the birds from the +oats! And last night one of them was took ill--and I must go and sit up +with him, while his brother fetched the big car from Kendal to take him +home. And there was he, groaning,--nobbut a bit of _colic_, Mrs. +Sarratt, that anybody might have!--and there I sat--thinking of our lads +in the trenches--thinking of _my boy_--that never grumbled at +anything--and would ha' been just ashamed to make such a fuss for such a +little. And this afternoon the brother's taken him away to be +molly-coddled at home. And, of course, they've left us, just when they +might ha' been o' soom real service. There's three fields still liggin +oot in t' wet--and nobody to lend a hand wi' them. But I doan't want +them back! I doan't hold wi' foak like that. I doan't want to see a mon +like that settin' where my boy used to set, when he came home. It goes +agin me. I can't soomhow put up wi' it.' + +And as she sat there opposite Nelly, her gnarled and work-stained hands +resting on her knees, the tears suddenly ran over her cheeks. But she +quickly apologised for herself. 'The truth is I am run doon, Mrs. +Sarratt. I've done nothing but _cook_ and _cook_--since these young men +coom along. They wouldn't eat noa flesh--soa I must always be cookin' +summat--vegetables--or fish--or sweet things. I'm fair tired oot!' + +Nelly exclaimed indignantly. + +'Was it their _religion_ made them behave like that?' + +'Religion!' Mrs. Grayson laughed. 'Well, they was only the yan Sunday +here--but they took no account o't, whativer. They went motorin' all +day; an niver set foot in church or chapel. They belong to soom Society +or other--I couldna tell what. But we'll not talk o' them ony more, Mrs. +Sarratt, if yo please. I'm just thankful they're gone ... An have ye +heard this day of Mr. Sarratt?' + +The gentle ageing face bent forward tenderly. Nelly lifted her own +dark-rimmed eyes to it Her mouth quivered. + +'No, not yet, Mrs. Grayson. But I shall soon. You'll have seen about +this fighting in the newspapers? There's been a great battle--I think +he'll have been in it. I shall hear to-night. I shall be sure to hear +to-night.' + +'The Lord protect him!' said Mrs. Grayson softly. They both sat silent, +looking into the fire. Through the open door, the hens could be heard +pecking and clucking in the yard, and the rushing of a beck swollen by +the rain, on the fell-side. Presently the farmer's wife looked up-- + +'It's devil's work, is war!' she said, her eyes blazing. Nelly held out +her hand and Mrs. Grayson put hers into it. The two women looked at each +other,--the one who had lost, and the other who feared to lose. + +'Yes, it's awful,' said Nelly, in a low voice. 'They want us to be +brave--but--' + +Mrs. Grayson shook her head again. + +'We can do it when they're settin' there--afore us,' she said, 'but not +when we're by our lone.' + +Nelly nodded. + +'It's the nights that are worst--' she murmured, under her +breath--'because it's then they're fighting--when we're in +bed--sleeping.' + +'My boy was killed between one and two in the morning '--whispered Mrs. +Grayson. 'I heard from one of his friends this morning. He says it was +a lovely night, and the daylight just comin' up. I think of it when I'm +layin' awake and hearing the birds beginning.' + +There was silence again, till Mrs. Grayson said, suddenly, with a +strange passion:-- + +'But I'd rather be Jim's mother, and be settin' here without him, than +I'd be the mother o'yan of them young fellows as is just gone!' + +'Yes,' said Nelly slowly--'yes. If we think too much about keeping them +safe--just for ourselves--If; they despise--they _would_ despise us. +And if anyone hangs back, we despise them. It' a horrible puzzle.' + +'We can pray for them,' said Mrs. Grayson simply. 'God can keep them +safe if it's His will.' + +'Yes '--said Nelly again. But her tone was flat and hesitating. Her +ever-present fear was very little comforted by prayer. But she found +comfort in Mrs. Grayson. She liked to stay on in the old kitchen, +watching Mrs. Grayson's household ways, making friends with the stolid +tabby cat, or listening to stories of Jim as a child. Sometimes she +would read parts of George's letters to this new friend. Bridget never +cared to hear them; and she was more completely at ease with the +farmer's wife even than with Hester Martin. + +But she could not linger this afternoon. Her news might come any time. +And Sir William had telephoned that morning to say that he and his +sister would call on their way from Windermere, and would ask for a cup +of tea. Marsworth would probably meet them at Rydal. + +As she descended the lane, she scolded herself for ingratitude. She was +glad the Farrells were coming, because they would bring newspapers, and +perhaps information besides, of the kind that does not get into +newspapers. But otherwise--why had she so little pleasure now in the +prospect of a visit from Sir William Farrell? He had never forced +himself upon them. Neither his visits nor his lessons had been +oppressively frequent, while the kindnesses which he had showered upon +them, from a distance, had been unceasing. She could hardly have +explained her disinclination. Was it that his company had grown so +stimulating and interesting to her, that it made her think too much of +other things than the war?--and so it seemed to separate her from +George? Her own quiet occupations--the needlework and knitting that she +did for a neighbouring war workroom, the gathering and drying of the +sphagnum moss, the visiting of a few convalescent soldiers, a daily +portion of Wordsworth, and some books about him--these things were +within her compass George knew all about them, for she chronicled them +in her letters day by day. She had a happy peaceful sense of communion +with him while she was busy with them. But Farrell's restless mind and +wide culture at once tired and fascinated her. He would often bring a +volume of Shelley, or Pater, or Hardy, or some quite modern poet, in his +pocket, and propose to read to her and Bridget, when the sketching was +done. And as he read, he would digress into talk, the careless audacity +of which would sometimes distress or repel, and sometimes absorb her; +till suddenly, perhaps, she realised how far she was wandering from that +common ground where she and George had moved together, and would try and +find her way back to it. She was always learning some new thing; and she +hated to learn, unless George changed and learnt with her. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Captain Marsworth was walking along the road from Grasmere to +Rydal with a rather listless step. As a soldier he was by no means +satisfied with the news of the week. We ought to have been in Lille and +weren't. It seemed to him that was about what the Loos action came to; +and his spirits were low. In addition he was in one of those fits of +depression which attack an able man who has temporarily come to a +stand-still in life, when his physical state is not buoyant enough to +enable him to fight them off. He was beginning plainly to see that his +own part in the war was done. His shattered arm, together with the +neuralgic condition which had followed on the wound, were not going to +mend sufficiently within any reasonable time to let him return to the +fighting line, where, at the moment of his wound, he was doing +divisional staff work, and was in the way of early promotion. He was a +man of clear and vigorous mind, inclined always to take a pessimistic +view of himself and his surroundings, and very critical also of persons +in authority; a scientific soldier, besides, indulging a strong natural +contempt for the politicians and all their crew, only surpassed by a +similar scorn of newspapers and the press. He had never been popular as +a subaltern, but since he had conquered his place among the 'brains' of +the army, his fame had spread, and it was freely prophesied that his +rise would be rapid. So that his growing conviction that his active +military career was over had been the recent cause in him of much +bitterness of soul. It was a bitter realisation, and a recent one. He +had been wounded at Neuve Chapelle in March, and up to July he had been +confident of complete and rapid recovery. + +Well, there was of course some compensation. A post in the War +Office--in the Intelligence Department--would, he understood, be offered +him; and by October he meant to be at work. Meanwhile an old school and +college friendship between himself and 'Bill Farrell,' together with the +special facilities at Carton for the treatment of neuralgia after +wounds, had made him an inmate for several months of the special wing +devoted to such cases in the splendid hospital; though lately by way of +a change of surroundings, he had been lodging with the old Rector of the +village of Carton, whose house was kept--and well kept--by a +sweet-looking and practical granddaughter, herself an orphan. + +Marsworth had connections in high quarters, and possessed some +considerable means. He had been a frequenter of the Farrells since the +days when the old aunt was still in command, and Cicely was a young +thing going to her first dances. He and she had sparred and quarrelled +as boy and girl. Now that, after a long interval, they had again been +thrown into close contact, they sparred and quarrelled still. He was a +man of high and rather stern ideals, which had perhaps been +intensified--made a little grimmer and fiercer than before--by the +strain of the war; and the selfish frivolity of certain persons and +classes in face of the national ordeal was not the least atoned for in +his eyes by the heroism of others. The endless dress advertisements in +the daily papers affected him as they might have affected the prophet +Ezekiel, had the daughters of Judah added the purchase of fur coats, +priced from twenty guineas to two hundred to their other enormities. He +had always in his mind the agonies of the war, the sights of the +trenches, the holocaust of young life, the drain on the national +resources, the burden on the national future. So that the Farrell +motor-cars and men servants, the costly simplicity of the 'cottage,' +Cicely's extravagance in dress, her absurd and expensive uniform, her +make-up and her jewels, were so many daily provocations to a man thus +sombrely possessed. + +And yet--he had not been able so far to tear himself away from Carton! +And he knew many things about Cicely Farrell that Nelly Sarratt had not +discovered; things that alternately softened and enraged him; things +that kept him now, as for some years past, provokingly, irrationally +interested in her. He had once proposed to her, and she had refused him. +That was known to a good many people. But what their relations were now +was a mystery to the friends on both sides. + +Whatever they were, however, on this September afternoon Marsworth was +coming rapidly to the conclusion that he had better put an end to them. +His latent feelings of resentment and irritation had been much sharpened +of late by certain passages of arms between himself and Cicely--since +she returned from her visits--with regard to that perfectly gentle and +inoffensive little maiden, Miss Daisy Stewart, the Rector's +granddaughter. Miss Farrell had several times been unpardonably rude to +the poor child in his presence, and, as it seemed to him, with the +express object of showing him how little she cared to keep on friendly +terms with him. + +Nevertheless--he found himself puzzling over certain other incidents in +his recent ken, of a different character. The hospital at Carton was +mainly for privates, with a certain amount of accommodation for +officers. He had done his best during the summer to be useful to some +poor fellows, especially of his own regiment, on the Tommies' side. And +he had lately come across some perplexing signs of a special +thoughtfulness on Miss Farrell's part for these particular men. He had +discovered also that she had taken pains to keep these small kindnesses +of hers from his knowledge. + +'I wasn't to tell you, sir,'--said the boy who had lost an eye--'not +whatever. But when you come along with them things'--a set of draughts +and a book--'why it do seem as though I be gettin' more than my share!' + +Well, she had always been incomprehensible--and he was weary of the +attempt to read her. But he wanted a home--he wanted to marry. He began +to think again--in leisurely fashion--of the Rector's granddaughter. + +Was that Mrs. Sarratt descending the side-lane? The sight of her +recalled his thoughts instantly to the war, and to a letter he had +received that morning from a brother officer just arrived in London on +medical leave--the letter of a 'grouser' if ever there was one. + +'They say that this week is to see another big push--the French probably +in Champagne, and we south of Bethune. I know nothing first-hand, but I +do know that it can only end in a few kilometres of ground, huge +casualties,--and, as you were! _We are not ready_--we can't be ready for +months. On the other hand we must keep moving--if only to kill a few +Germans, and keep our own people at home in heart. I passed some of the +Lanchesters on my way down--going up, as fresh as paint after three +weeks' rest--what's left of them. They're sure to be in it.' + +The little figure in the mauve cotton had paused at the entrance to the +lane, perceiving him. + +What about Sarratt? Had she heard? He hurried on to meet her, and put +his question. + +'There can't be any telegram yet,' she said, her pale cheeks flushing. +'But it will come to-night. Shall we go back quickly?' + +They walked on rapidly. He soon found she did not want to talk of the +news, and he was driven back on the weather. + +'What a blessing to see the sun again I this west country damp +demoralises me.' + +'I think I like it!' + +He laughed. + +'Do you only "say that to annoy "?' + +'No, I _do_ like it! I like to see the rain shutting out everything, so +that one can't make any plans--or go anywhere.' She smiled, but he was +well aware of the fever in her look. He had not seen it there since the +weeks immediately following Sarratt's departure. His heart warmed to the +frail creature, tremulous as a leaf in the wind, yet making a show of +courage. He had often asked himself whether he would wish to be loved as +Mrs. Sarratt evidently loved her husband; whether he could possibly meet +such a claim upon his own sensibility. But to-day he thought he could +meet it; to-day he thought it would be agreeable. + +Nelly had not told Marsworth however that one reason for which she +liked the rain was that it had temporarily put an end to the sketching +lessons. Nor could she have added that this new distaste in her, as +compared with the happy stir of fresh or quickened perception, which had +been the result of his early teaching, was connected, not only with Sir +William--but with Bridget--her sister Bridget. + +But the truth was that something in Bridget's manner, very soon after +the Carton visit, had begun to perplex and worry the younger sister. Why +was Bridget always insisting on the lessons?--always ready to scold +Nelly if one was missed--and always practising airs and graces with Sir +William that she wasted on no one else? Why was she so frequently away +on the days when Sir William was expected? Nelly had only just begun to +notice it, and to fall back instinctively on Miss Martin's company +whenever it could be had. She hated her own vague annoyance with +Bridget's behaviour, just because she could not pour herself out to +George about it. It was really too silly and stupid to talk about. She +supposed--she dreaded--that Bridget might be going to ask Sir William +some favour; that she meant to make use of his kindness to her sister in +order to work upon him. How horrible that would be!--how it would spoil +everything! Nelly began sometimes to dream of moving, of going to +Borrowdale, or to the coast at Scascale. And then, partly her natural +indolence, and partly her clinging to every rock and field in this +beautiful place where she had been so happy, intervened; and she let +things slide. + +Yet when Sir William and Cicely arrived, to find Bridget making tea, and +Nelly listening with a little frown of effort, while Marsworth, pencil +in hand, was drawing diagrams _à la Belloc_, to explain to her the +Russian retreat from Galicia, how impossible not to feel cheered by +Farrell's talk and company! The great _bon enfant_, towering in the +little room, and positively lighting it up by the red-gold of his-hair +and beard, so easily entertained, so overflowing with kind intentions, +so fastidious intellectually, and so indulgent morally:--as soon as he +appeared he filled the scene. + +'No fresh news, dear Mrs. Sarratt, nothing whatever,' he said at once, +meeting her hungry eyes. 'And you?' + +She shook her head. + +'Don't worry. You'll get it soon. I've sent the motor back to Windermere +for the evening papers.' + +Meanwhile Marsworth found himself reduced to watching Cicely, and +presently he found himself more angry and disgusted than he had ever yet +been. How could she? How dared she? On this day of all days, to be +snobbishly playing the great lady in Mrs. Sarratt's small sitting-room! +Whenever that was Cicely's mood she lisped; and as often as Marsworth, +who was sitting far away from her, talking to Bridget Cookson, caught +her voice, it seemed to him that she was lisping--affectedly--monstrously. +She was describing for instance a certain ducal household in which she +had just been spending the week-end, and Marsworth heard her say-- + +'Well at last, poor Evelyn' ('poor Evelyn' seemed to be a youthful +Duchess, conducting a war economy campaign through the villages of her +husband's estate), 'began to get threatening letters. She found out +afterwards they came from a nurse-maid she had sent away. "Madam, don't +you talk to us, but look at 'ome! examine your own nursewy, Madam, and +hold your tongue!" She did examine, and I found her cwying. "Oh, +Cicely, isn't it awful, I've just discovered that Nurse has been +spending _seven pounds a week_ on Baby's wibbons!" So she's given up war +economy!' + +'Why not the "wibbons?"' said Hester Martin, who had just come in and +heard the tale. + +'Because nobody gives up what they weally want to have,' said Cicely +promptly, with a more affected voice and accent than before. + +Bridget pricked up her ears and nodded triumphantly towards Nelly. + +'Don't talk nonsense, Cicely,' said Farrell. 'Why, the Duchess has +planted the whole rose-garden with potatoes, and sold all her Pekinese.' + +'Only because she was tired of the Pekinese, and has so many flowers she +doesn't know what to do with them! On the other hand the _Duke_ wants +parlour-maids; and whenever he says so, Evelyn draws all the blinds +down and goes to bed. And that annoys him so much that he gives in! +Don't you talk, Willy. The Duchess always gets wound you!' + +'I don't care twopence about her,' said Farrell, rather savagely. 'What +does she matter?' Then he moved towards Nelly, whose absent look and +drooping attitude he had been observing for some minutes. + +'Shan't we go down to the Lake, Mrs. Sarratt? It seems really a fine +evening at last, and there won't be so many more. Let me carry some +shawls. Marsworth, lend a hand.' + +Soon they were all scattered along the edge of the Lake. Hester Martin +had relieved Marsworth of Bridget; Farrell had found a dry rock, and +spread a shawl upon it for Nelly's benefit. Marsworth and Cicely had no +choice but to pair; and she, with a grey hat and plume half a yard high, +preposterously short skirts, and high-heeled boots buttoned to the knee, +condescended to stroll beside him, watching his grave embarrassed look +with an air of detachment as dramatically complete as she could make it. + + * * * * * + +'You look awfully tired!' said Farrell to his companion, eyeing her with +most sincere concern. 'I wonder what you've been doing to yourself.' + +'I'm all right,' she said with emphasis. 'Indeed I'm all right. You said +you'd sent for the papers?' + +'The motor will wait for them at Windermere. But I don't think there'll +be much more to hear. I'm afraid we've shot our bolt.' + +She clasped her hands listlessly on her knee, and said nothing. + +'Are you quite sure Sarratt has been in it?' he asked her. + +'Oh, yes, I'm sure.' + +There was a dull conviction in her voice. She began to pluck at the +grass beside her, while her dark contracted eyes swept the Lake in front +of her--seeing nothing. + +'Good God!'--thought Farrell--'Are they all--all the women--suffering +like this?' + +'You'll get a telegram from him to-morrow, I'm certain you will!' he +said, with eager kindness. 'Try and look forward to it. You know the +good chances are five to one.' + +'Not for a lieutenant,' she said, under her breath. 'They have to lead +their men. They can't think of their own lives.' + +There was silence a little. Then Farrell said--floundering, 'He'd want +you to bear up!' + +'I am bearing up!' she said quickly, a little resentfully. + +'Yes, indeed you are!' He touched her arm a moment caressingly, as +though in apology. It was natural to his emotional temperament to +express itself so--through physical gesture. But Nelly disliked the +touch. + +'I only meant'--Farrell continued, anxiously--'that he would beg you +not to anticipate trouble--not to go to meet it.' + +She summoned smiles, altering her position a little, and drawing a wrap +round her. The delicate arm was no longer within his reach. + +And restlessly she began to talk of other things--the conscientious +objectors of the morning--Zeppelins--a recruiting meeting at Ambleside. +Farrell had the impression of a wounded creature that could not bear to +be touched; and it was something new to his prevailing sense of power in +life, to be made to realise that he could do nothing. His sympathy +seemed to alienate her; and he felt much distressed and rebuffed. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile as the clouds cleared away from the September afternoon, +Marsworth and Cicely were strolling along the Lake, and sparring as +usual. + +He had communicated to her his intention of leaving Carton within a week +or so, and trying some fresh treatment in London. + +'You're tired of us?' she enquired, her head very much in air. + +'Not at all. But I think I might do a bit of work.' + +'The doctors don't think so.' + +'Ah, well--when a man's got to my stage, he must make experiments on his +own. It won't be France--I know that. But there's lots else.' + +'You'll break down in a week!' she said with energy. 'I had a talk +about you with Seaton yesterday.' + +He looked at her with amusement. For the moment, she was no longer +Cicely Farrell, extravagantly dressed, but the shrewd hospital worker, +who although she would accept no responsibility that fettered her goings +and comings beyond a certain point, was yet, as he well knew, +invaluable, as a force in the background, to both the nursing and +medical staff of Carton. + +'Well, what did Seaton say?' + +'That you would have another bad relapse, if you attempted yet to go to +work.' + +'I shall risk it.' + +'That's so like you. You never take anyone's advice.' + +'On the contrary, I am the meekest and most docile of men.' She shrugged +her shoulders. + +'You were docile, I suppose, when Seaton begged you not to go off to the +Rectory, and give yourself all that extra walking backwards and forwards +to the hospital every day?' + +'I wanted a change of scene. I like the old Rector--I even like family +prayers.' + +'I am sure everything--and _everybody_--is perfect at the Rectory!' + +'No--not perfect--but peaceable.' + +He looked at her smiling. His grey eyes, under their strong black brows, +challenged her. She perceived in them a whole swarm of unspoken +charges. Her own colour rose. + +'So peace is what you want?' + +'Peace--and a little sympathy.' + +'And we give you neither?' + +He hesitated. + +'Willy never fails one.' + +'So it's my crimes that are driving you away? It's all to be laid on my +shoulders?' + +He laughed--uncertainly. + +'Don't you believe me when I say I want to do some work?' + +'Not much. So I have offended you?' + +His look changed, became grave--touched with compunction. + +'Miss Farrell, I oughtn't to have been talking like this. You and Willy +have been awfully good to me.' + +'And then you call me "Miss Farrell"!' she cried, passionately--'when +you know very well that you've called me Cicely for years.' + +'Hush!' said Marsworth suddenly, 'what was that?' + +He turned back towards Rydal. On the shore path, midway between them and +the little bay at the eastern end of the lake, where Farrell and Nelly +Sarratt had been sitting, were Hester Martin and Bridget. They too had +turned round, arrested in their walk. Beyond them, at the edge of the +water, Farrell could be seen beckoning. And a little way behind him on +the slope stood a boy with a bicycle. + +'He is calling us,' said Marsworth, and began to run. + +Hester Martin was already running--Bridget too. + +But Hester and Marsworth outstripped the rest. Farrell came to meet +them. + +'Hester, for God's sake, get her sister!' + +'What is it?' gasped Hester. 'Is he killed?' + +'No--"Wounded and missing!" Poor, poor child!' + +'Where is she?' + +'She's sitting there--dazed--with the telegram. She's hardly said +anything since it came.' + +Hester ran on. There on a green edge of the bank sat Nelly staring at a +fluttering piece of paper. + +Hester sank beside her, and put her arms round her. + +'Dear Mrs. Sarratt!' + +'What does it mean?' said Nelly turning her white face. 'Read it.' + +'"Deeply regret to inform you your husband reported wounded and +missing!"' + +'_Missing?_ That means--a prisoner. George is a prisoner--and wounded! +Can't I go to him?' + +She looked piteously at Hester. Bridget had come up and was standing +near. + +'If he's a prisoner, he's in a German hospital. Dear Mrs. Sarratt, +you'll soon hear of him!' + +Nelly stood up. Her young beauty of an hour before seemed to have +dropped from her like the petals of a rose. She put her hand to her +forehead. + +'But I shan't see him--again'--she said slowly--'till the end of the +war--_the end of the war_'--she repeated, pressing her hands on her +eyes. The note of utter desolation brought the tears to Hester's cheeks. +But before she could say anything, Nelly had turned sharply to her +sister. + +'Bridget, I must go up to-night!' + +'Must you?' said Bridget reluctantly. 'I don't see what you can do.' + +'I can go to the War Office--and to that place where they make enquiries +for you. Of _course_, I must go to London!--and I must stay there. There +might be news of him any time.' + +Bridget and Hester looked at each other. The same thought was in their +minds. But Nelly, restored to momentary calmness by her own suggestion, +went quickly to Farrell, who with his sister and Marsworth was standing +a little way off. + +'I must go to London to-night, Sir William. Could you order something +for me?' + +'I'll take you to Windermere, Mrs. Sarratt,' said Cicely before her +brother could reply. 'The motor's there now.' + +'No, no, Cicely, I'll take Mrs. Sarratt,' said Farrell impatiently. +'I'll send back a car from Ambleside, for you and Marsworth.' + +'You forget Sir George Whitehead,' said Cicely quietly. 'I'll do +everything.' + +Sir George Whitehead of the A.M.S.C. was expected at Carton that +evening on a visit of inspection to the hospital. Farrell, as +Commandant, could not possibly be absent. He acknowledged the fact by a +gesture of annoyance. Cicely immediately took things in charge. + +A whirl of packing and departure followed. By the time she and her +charges left for Windermere, Cicely's hat and high heels had been +entirely blotted out by a quite extraordinary display on her part of +both thoughtfulness and efficiency. Marsworth had seen the same +transformation before, but never so markedly. He tried several times to +make his peace with her; but she held aloof, giving him once or twice an +odd look out of her long almond-shaped eyes. + +'Good-bye, and good luck!' said Farrell to Nelly, through the car +window; and as she held out her hand, he stooped and kissed it with a +gulp in his throat. Her deathly pallor and a grey veil thrown back and +tied under her small chin gave her a ghostly loveliness which stamped +itself on his recollection. + +'I am going up to town myself to-morrow. I shall come and see if I can +do anything for you.' + +'Thank you,' said Nelly mechanically. 'Oh yes, I shall have thought of +many things by then. Good-bye.' + +Marsworth and Farrell were left to watch the disappearance of the car +along the moonlit road. + +'Poor little soul!' said Farrell--'poor little soul!' He walked on +along the road, his eyes on the ground. Marsworth offered him a cigar, +and they smoked in silence. + +'What'll the next message be?' said Farrell, after a little while. +'"Reported wounded and missing--now reported killed"? Most probable!' + +Marsworth assented sadly. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +It was a pale September day. In the country, among English woods and +heaths the sun was still strong, and trees and bracken, withered heath, +and reddening berries, burned and sparkled beneath it. But in the dingy +bedroom of a dingy Bloomsbury hotel, with a film of fog over everything +outside, there was no sun to be seen; the plane trees beyond the windows +were nearly leafless; and the dead leaves scudding and whirling along +the dusty, airless streets, under a light wind, gave the last dreary +touch to the scene that Nelly Sarratt was looking at. She was standing +at a window, listlessly staring at some houses opposite, and the +unlovely strip of garden which lay between her and the houses. Bridget +Cookson was sitting at a table a little way behind her, mending some +gloves. + +The sisters had been four days in London. For Nelly, life was just +bearable up to five or six o'clock in the evening because of her morning +and afternoon visits to the Enquiry Office in D---- Street, where +everything that brains and pity could suggest was being done to trace +the 'missing'; where sat also that kind, tired woman, at the table which +Nelly by now knew so well, with her pitying eyes, and her soft voice, +which never grew perfunctory or careless. 'I'm _so_ sorry!--but there's +no fresh news.' That had been the evening message; and now the day's +hope was over, and the long night had to be got through. + +That morning, however, there had been news--a letter from Sarratt's +Colonel, enclosing letters from two privates, who had seen Sarratt go +over the parapet in the great rush, and one of whom had passed +him--wounded--on the ground and tried to stay by him. But 'Lieutenant +Sarratt wouldn't allow it.' 'Never mind me, old chap'--one witness +reported him as saying. 'Get on. They'll pick me up presently.' And +there they had left him, and knew no more. + +Several other men were named, who had also seen him fall, but they had +not yet been traced. They might be in hospital badly wounded, or if +Sarratt had been made prisoner, they had probably shared his fate. 'And +if your husband has been taken prisoner, as we all hope,' said the +gentle woman at the office--'it will be at least a fortnight before we +can trace him. Meanwhile we are going on with all other possible +enquiries.' + +Nelly had those phrases by heart. The phrases too of that short +letter--those few lines--the last she had ever received from George, +written two days before the battle, which had reached her in Westmorland +before her departure. + +That letter lay now on her bosom, just inside the folds of her blouse, +where her hand could rest upon it at any moment. How passionately she +had hoped for another, a fragment perhaps torn from his notebook in the +trenches, and sent back by some messenger at the last moment! She had +heard of that happening to so many others. Why not to her!--oh, why not +to her? + +Her heart was dry with longing and grief; her eyes were red for want of +sleep. There were strange numb moments when she felt nothing, and could +hardly remember why she was in London. And then would come the sudden +smart of reviving consciousness--the terrible returns of an anguish, +under which her whole being trembled. And always, at the back of +everything, the dull thought--'I always knew it--I knew he would +die!'--recurring again and again; only to be dashed away by a protest no +less persistent--'No, no! He is _not dead!--not dead!_ In a +fortnight--she said so--there'll be news--they'll have found him. Then +he'll be recovering--and prisoners are allowed to write. Oh, my +George!--my George!' + +It was with a leap of ecstasy that yet was pain, that she imagined to +herself the coming of the first word from him. Prisoners' letters came +regularly--no doubt of that. Why, the landlady at the hotel had a son +who was at Ruhleben, and she heard once a month. Nelly pictured the +moment when the letter would be in her hand, and she would be looking at +it. Oh, no doubt it wouldn't be addressed by him! By the nurse +perhaps--a German nurse--or another patient. He mightn't be well +enough. All the same, the dream filled her eyes with tears, that for a +moment eased the burning within. + +Her life was now made up of such moments and dreams. On the whole, what +held her most was the fierce refusal to think of him as dead. That +morning, in dressing, among the clothes they had hurriedly brought with +them from Westmorland, she saw a thin black dress--a useful stand-by in +the grime of London--and lifted her hands to take it from the peg on +which it hung. Only to recoil from it with horror. _That_--never! And +she had dressed herself with care in a coat and skirt of rough blue +tweed that George had always liked; scrupulously putting on her little +ornaments, and taking pains with her hair. And at every step of the +process, she seemed to be repelling some attacking force; holding a door +with all her feeble strength against some horror that threatened to come +in. + +The room in which she stood was small and cheerless; but it was all they +could afford. Bridget frankly hated the ugliness and bareness of it; +hated the dingy hotel, and the slatternly servants, hated the boredom of +the long waiting for news to which apparently she was to be committed, +if she stayed on with Nelly. She clearly saw that public opinion would +expect her to stay on. And indeed she was not without some natural pity +for her younger sister. There were moments when Nelly's state caused her +extreme discomfort--even something more. But when they occurred, she +banished them as soon as possible, and with a firm will, which grew the +firmer with exercise. It was everybody's duty to keep up their spirits +and not to be beaten down by this abominable war. And it was a special +duty for those who hated the war, and would stop it at once if they +could. Yet Bridget had entirely declined to join any 'Stop the War,' or +pacifist societies. She had no sympathy with 'that sort of people.' Her +real opinion about the war was that no cause could be worth such +wretched inconvenience as the war caused to everyone. She hated to feel +and know that probably the majority of decent people would say, if +asked,--as Captain Marsworth had practically said--that she, Bridget +Cookson, ought to be doing V.A.D. work, or relieving munition-workers at +week-ends, instead of fiddling with an index to a text-book on 'The New +Psychology.' The mere consciousness of that was already an attack on her +personal freedom to do what she liked, which she hotly resented. And as +to that conscription of women for war-work which was vaguely talked of, +Bridget passionately felt that she would go to prison rather than submit +to such a thing. For the war said nothing whatever to her heart or +conscience. All the great tragic side of it--the side of death and +wounds and tears--of high justice and ideal aims--she put away from her, +as she always had put away such things, in peace. They did not concern +her personally. Why _make_ trouble for oneself? + +And yet here was a sister whose husband was 'wounded and +missing'--probably, as Bridget firmly believed, already dead. And the +meaning of that fact--that possibility--was writ so large on Nelly's +physical aspect, on Nelly's ways and plans, that there was really no +getting away from it. Also--there were other people to be considered. +Bridget did not at all want to offend or alienate Sir William +Farrell--now less than ever. And she was quite aware that he would think +badly of her, if he suspected she was not doing her best for Nelly. + +The September light waned. The room grew so dark that Bridget turned on +an electric light beside her, and by the help of it stole a long look at +Nelly, who was still standing by the window. Would grieving--would the +loss of George--take Nelly's prettiness away? She had certainly lost +flesh during the preceding weeks and days. Her little chin was very +sharp, as Bridget saw it against the window, and her hair seemed to have +parted with its waves and curls, and to be hanging limp about her ears. +Bridget felt a pang of annoyance that anything should spoil Nelly's good +looks. It was altogether unnecessary and absurd. + +Presently Nelly moved back towards her sister. + +'I don't know how I shall get through the next fortnight,' she said in a +low voice. 'I wonder what we had better do?' + +'Well, we can't stay here,' said Bridget sharply. 'It's too expensive, +though it is such a poky hole. We can find a lodging, I suppose, and +feed ourselves. Unless of course we went back to Westmorland. Why can't +you? They can always telegraph.' + +Nelly flushed. Her hand lying on the back of Bridget's chair shook. + +'And if George sent for me,' she said, in the same low, strained voice, +'it would take eight hours longer to get to him than it would from +here.' + +Bridget said nothing. In her heart of hearts she felt perfectly certain +that George never would send. She rose and put down her needlework. + +'I must go and post a letter downstairs. I'll ask the woman in the +office if she knows anything about lodgings.' + +Nelly went back to her post by the window. Her mind was bruised between +two conflicting feelings--a dumb longing for someone to caress and +comfort her, someone who would meet her pain with a bearing less hard +and wooden than Bridget's--and at the same time, a passionate shrinking +from the bare idea of comfort and sympathy, as something not to be +endured. She had had a kind letter from Sir William Farrell that +morning. He had spoken of being soon in London. But she did not know +that she could bear to see him--unless he could help--get something +_done!_ + +Bridget descended to the ground floor, and had a conversation with the +young lady in the office, which threw no light at all on the question of +lodgings. The young lady in question seemed to be patting and pinning up +her back hair all the time, besides carrying on another conversation +with a second young lady in the background. Bridget was disgusted with +her and was just going upstairs again, when the very shabby and partly +deformed hall porter informed her that someone--a gentleman--was waiting +to see her in the drawing-room. + +A gentleman? Bridget hastened to the small and stuffy drawing-room, +where the hall porter had just turned on the light, and there beheld a +tall bearded man pacing up and down, who turned abruptly as she entered. + +'How is she? Is there any news?' + +Sir William Farrell hurriedly shook her offered hand, frowning a little +at the sister who always seemed to him inadequate and ill-mannered. + +'Thank you, Sir William; she is quite well. There is a little news--but +nothing of any consequence.' + +She repeated the contents of the hospital letter, with the comments on +it of the lady they had seen at the office. + +'We shan't hear anything more for a fortnight. They have written to +Geneva.' + +'Then they think he's a prisoner?' + +Bridget supposed so. + +'At any rate they hope he is. Well, I'm thankful there's no worse news. +Poor thing--poor little thing! Is she bearing up--eating?--sleeping?' + +He asked the questions peremptorily, yet with a real anxiety. Bridget +vaguely resented the peremptoriness, but she answered the questions. It +was very difficult to get Nelly to eat anything, and Bridget did not +believe she slept much. + +Farrell shook his head impatiently, with various protesting noises, +while she spoke. Then drawing up suddenly, with his hands in his +pockets, he looked round the room in which they stood. + +'But why are you staying here? It's a dreadful hole! That porter gave me +the creeps. And it's so far from everywhere.' + +'There is a tube station close by. We stay here because it's cheap,' +said Bridget, grimly. + +Sir William walked up the room again, poking his nose into the moribund +geranium that stood, flanked by some old railway guides, on the middle +table, surveyed the dirty and ill-kept writing-table, the uncomfortable +chairs, and finally went to look out of the window; after which he +suddenly and unaccountably brightened up and turned with a smile to +Bridget. + +'Do you think you could persuade your sister to do something that would +please me very much?' + +'I'm sure I don't know, Sir William.' + +'Well, it's this. Cicely and I have a flat in St. James' Square. I'm +there very little just now, and she less. You know we're both awfully +busy at Carton. We've had a rush of wounded the last few weeks. I must +be up sometimes on business for the hospital, but I can always sleep at +my club. So what I want to persuade you to do, Miss Cookson, is to get +Mrs. Sarratt to accept the loan of our flat, for a few weeks while she's +kept in town. It would be a real pleasure to us. We're awfully sorry for +her!' + +He beamed upon her, all his handsome face suffused with kindness and +concern. + +Bridget was amazed, but cautious. + +'It's awfully good of you--but--shouldn't we have to get a servant? I +couldn't do everything.' + +Sir William laughed. + +'Gracious--I should think not! There are always servants there--it's +kept ready for us. I put in a discharged soldier--an army cook and his +wife--a few months ago. They're capital people. I'm sure they'd look +after you. Well now, will you suggest that to Mrs. Sarratt? Could I see +her?' + +Bridget hesitated. Some instinct told her that Nelly would not wish to +accept this proposal. She said slowly-- + +'I'm afraid she's very tired to-night.' + +'Oh, don't bother her then! But just try and persuade her--won't +you--quietly? And send me a word to-night.' + +He gave the address. + +'If I hear that you'll come, I'll make all the arrangements to-morrow +morning before I leave for Westmorland. You can just take her round in a +taxi any time you like, and the servants will be quite ready for you. +You'll be close to D---- Street--close to everything. Now do!' + +He stood with his hands on his side looking down eagerly and a little +sharply on the hard-featured woman before him. + +'It's awfully good of you,' said Bridget again--'most awfully good. Of +course I'll tell Nelly what you say.' + +'And drop me a line to-night?' + +'Yes, I'll write.' + +Sir William took up his stick. + +'Well, I shall put everything in train. Tell her, please, what a +pleasure she'd give us. And she won't keep Cicely away. Cicely will be +up next week. But there's plenty of room. She and her maid wouldn't make +any difference to you. And please tell Mrs. Sarratt too, that if there's +anything I can do--_anything_--she has only to let me know.' + + * * * * * + +Bridget went back to the room upstairs. As she opened the door she saw +Nelly standing under the electric light--motionless. Something in her +attitude startled Bridget. + +She called-- + +'Nelly!' + +Nelly turned slowly, and Bridget saw that she had a letter in her hand. +Bridget ran up to her. + +'Have you heard anything?' + +'He _did_ write to me!--he did!--just the last minute--in the trench. I +knew he must. He gave it to an engineer officer who was going back to +Headquarters, to post. The officer was badly wounded as he went back. +They've sent it me from France. The waiter brought me the letter just +after you'd gone down.' + +The words came in little panting gasps. + +Then, suddenly, she slipped down beside the table at which Bridget had +been working, and hid her face. She was crying. But it was very +difficult weeping--with few tears. The slight frame shook from top to +toe. + +Bridget stood by her, not knowing what to do. But she was conscious of a +certain annoyance that she couldn't begin at once on the subject of the +flat. She put her hand awkwardly on her sister's shoulder. + +'Don't cry so. What does he say?' + +Nelly did not answer for a little. At last she said, her face still +buried-- + +'It was only--to tell me--that he loved me--' + +There was silence again. Then Nelly rose to her feet. She pressed her +hair back from her white face. + +'I don't want any supper, Bridget. I think--I should like to go to bed.' + +Bridget helped her to undress. It was now nearly dark and she drew down +the blinds. When she looked again at Nelly, she saw her lying white and +still, her wide eyes fixed on vacancy. + +'I found a visitor downstairs,' she said, abruptly. 'It was Sir William +Farrell.' + +Nelly shewed no surprise, or interest. But she seemed to find some words +mechanically. + +'Why did he come?' + +Bridget came to the bedside. + +'He wants us to go and stay at his flat--their flat. He and his sister +have it together--in St. James' Square. He wants us to go to-morrow. +He's going back to Carton. There are two servants there. We shouldn't +have any trouble. And you'd be close to D---- Street. Any news they got +they could send round directly.' + +Nelly closed her eyes. + +'I don't care where we go,' she said, under her breath. + +'He wanted a line to-night,' said Bridget--'I can't hear of any +lodgings. And the boarding-houses are all getting frightfully +expensive--because food's going up so.' + +'Not a boarding-house!' murmured Nelly. A shiver of repulsion ran +through her. She was thinking of a boarding-house in one of the +Bloomsbury streets where she and Bridget had once stayed before her +marriage--the long tables full of strange faces--the drawing-room +crowded with middle-aged women, who stared so. + +'Well, I can write to him to-night then, and say we'll go to-morrow? We +certainly can't stay here. The charges are abominable. If we go to their +flat, for a few days, we can look round us and find something cheap.' + +'Where is it?' said Nelly faintly. + +'In St. James' Square.' + +The address conveyed very little to Nelly. She knew hardly anything of +London. Two visits--one to some cousins in West Kensington, another to +a friend at Hampstead--together with the fortnight three years ago in +the Bloomsbury boarding-house, when Bridget had had some grand scheme +with a publisher which never came off, and Nelly had mostly stayed +indoors with bad toothache:--her acquaintance with the great city had +gone no further. Of its fashionable quarters both she and Bridget were +entirely ignorant, though Bridget would not have admitted it. + +Bridget got her writing-case out of her trunk and began to write to Sir +William. Nelly watched her. At last she said slowly, as though she were +becoming a little more conscious of the world around her:-- + +'It's awfully kind of them. But we needn't stay long.' + +'Oh no, we needn't stay long.' + +Bridget wrote the letter, and disappeared to post it. Nelly was left +alone in darkness. The air about her seemed to be ringing with the words +of her letter. + + 'MY OWN DARLING,--We are just going over. I have found a man going + back to D.H.Q. who will post this--and I just want you to know + that, whatever happens, you are my beloved, and our love can't die. + God bless you, my dear, dear wife.... We are all in good + spirits--everything ought to go well--and I will write the first + moment possible. + + 'GEORGE.' + +She seemed to see him, tearing the leaf from the little block she had +given him, and standing in the trench, so slim and straight in his +khaki. And then, what happened after? when the rush came? Would she +never know? If he never came back to her, what was she going to do with +her life? Waves of lonely terror went through her--terror of the long +sorrow before her--terror of her own weakness. + +And then again--reaction. She sat up in bed, angrily wrestling with her +own lapse from hope. Of course it was all coming right! She turned on +the light, with a small trembling hand, and tried to read a newspaper +Bridget had brought in. But the words swam before her; the paper dropped +from her grasp; and when Bridget came back, her face was hidden, she +seemed to be asleep. + + * * * * * + +'Is this it?' said Nelly, looking in alarm at the new and splendid house +before which the taxi had drawn up. + +'Well, it's the right number!' And Bridget, rather flurried, looked at +the piece of paper on which Farrell had written the address for her, the +night before. + +She jumped out of the taxi and ran up some marble steps towards a glass +door covered with a lattice metal-work, beyond which a hall, a marble +staircase and a lift shewed dimly. Inside, a porter in livery, at the +first sight of the taxi, put down the newspaper he was reading, and +hurried to the door. + +'Is this Sir William Farrell's flat?' asked Bridget. + +'It's all right, Miss. They're expecting you. Sir William went off this +morning. I was to tell you he had to go down to Aldershot to-day on +business, but he hoped to look in this evening, on his way to Euston, to +see that you had everything comfortable.' + +Reluctantly, and with a feeble step, Nelly descended, helped by the +porter. + +'Oh, Bridget, I wish we hadn't come!' She breathed it into her sister's +ear, as they stood together in the hall, waiting for the lift which had +been called. Bridget shut her lips tightly, and said nothing. + +The lift carried them up to the third floor, and there at the top the +ex-army cook and his wife were waiting, a pair of stout and comfortable +people, all smiles and complaisance. The two small trunks were +shouldered by the man, and the woman led the way. + +'Lunch will be ready directly, Ma'am,' she said to Nelly, who followed +her in bewilderment across a hall panelled in marble and carpeted with +something red and soft. + +'Sir William thought you would like it about one o'clock. And this is +your room, please, Ma'am--unless you would like anything different. It's +Miss Farrell's room. She always likes the quiet side. And I've put Miss +Cookson next door. I thought you'd wish to be together?' + +Nelly entered a room furnished in white and pale green, luxurious in +every detail, and hung with engravings after Watteau framed in white +wood. Through an open door shewed another room a little smaller, but +equally dainty and fresh in all its appointments. Bridget tripped +briskly through the open door, looked around her and deposited her bag +upon the bed. Nelly meanwhile was being shewn the green-tiled and +marble-floored bathroom attached to her room, Mrs. Simpson chattering on +the various improvements and subtleties, which 'Miss Cicely' had lately +commanded there. + +'But I'm sure you'll be wanting your lunch, Ma'am,' said the woman at +last, venturing a compassionate glance at the pale young creature beside +her. 'It'll be ready in five minutes. I'll tell Simpson he can serve +it.' + +She disappeared, and Nelly sank into a chair. Why had they come to this +place? Her whole nature was in revolt. The gaiety and luxury of the flat +seemed to rise up and reproach her. What was she doing in such +surroundings?--when George--Oh, it was hateful--hateful! She thought +with longing of the little bare room in the Rydal lodgings, where they +had been happy together. + +'Well, are you ready?' said Bridget, bustling in. 'Do take off your +things. You look absolutely done up!' + +Nelly rose slowly, but her face had flushed. + +'I can't stay here, Bridget!' she said with energy--'I can't! I don't +know why we came.' + +'Because we were asked,' said Bridget calmly. 'We can stay, I think, +for a couple of days, can't we, till we find something else? Where are +your brushes?' + +And she began vigorously unpacking for her sister, helplessly watched by +Nelly. They had just come from D---- Street, where Nelly had been shewn +various letters and telegrams; but nothing which promised any real +further clue to George Sarratt's fate. He had been seen advancing--seen +wounded--by at least a dozen men of the regiment, and a couple of +officers, all of whom had now been communicated with. But the wave of +the counter-attack--temporarily successful--had rushed over the same +ground before the British gains had been finally consolidated, and from +that fierce and confused fighting there came no further word of George +Sarratt. It was supposed that in the final German retreat he had been +swept up as a German prisoner. He was not among the dead found and +buried by an English search party on the following day--so much had been +definitely ascertained. + +The friendly volunteer in D---- Street--whose name appeared to be Miss +Eustace--had tried to insist with Nelly that on the whole, and so far, +the news collected was not discouraging. At least there was no +verification of death. And for the rest, there were always the letters +from Geneva to wait for. 'One must be patient,' Miss Eustace had said +finally. 'These things take so long! But everybody's doing their best.' +And she had grasped Nelly's cold hands in hers, long and pityingly. Her +own fine aquiline face seemed to have grown thinner and more strained +even since Nelly had known it. She often worked in the office, she said, +up to midnight. + +All these recollections and passing visualisations of words and faces, +drawn from those busy rooms a few streets off, in which not only George +Sarratt's fate, but her own, as it often seemed to Nelly, were being +slowly and inexorably decided, passed endlessly through her brain, as +she mechanically took off her things, and brushed her hair. + +Presently she was following Bridget across the hall to the drawing-room. +Bridget seemed already to know all about the flat. 'The dining-room +opens out of the drawing-room. It's all Japanese,' she said +complaisantly, turning back to her sister. 'Isn't it jolly? Miss Farrell +furnished it. Sir William let her have it all her own way.' + +Nelly looked vaguely round the drawing-room, which had a blue Persian +carpet, pale purple walls, hung with Japanese colour prints, a few +chairs, one comfortable sofa, a couple of Japanese cabinets, and pots of +Japanese lilies in the corners. It was a room not meant for living in. +There was not a book in it anywhere. It looked exactly what it was--a +perching-place for rich people, who liked their own ways, and could not +be bored with hotels. + +The dining-room was equally bare, costly, and effective. Its only +ornament was a Chinese Buddha, a great terra-cotta, marvellously alive, +which had been looted from some Royal tomb, and now sat serenely out of +place, looking over the dainty luncheon-table to the square outside, and +wrapt in dreams older than Christianity. + +The flat was nominally lent to 'Mrs. Sarratt,' but Bridget was managing +everything, and had never felt so much in her element in her life. She +sat at the head of the table, helped Nelly, gave all the orders, and was +extraordinarily brisk and cheerful. + +Nelly scarcely touched anything, and Mrs. Simpson who waited was much +concerned. + +'Perhaps you'd tell Simpson anything you could fancy, Madam,' she said +anxiously in Nelly's ear, as she handed the fruit. Nelly must needs +smile when anyone spoke kindly to her. She smiled now, though very +wearily. + +'Why, it's all beautiful, thank you. But I'm not hungry.' + +'We'll have coffee in the drawing-room, please, Mrs. Simpson,' said +Bridget rising--a tall masterful figure, in a black silk dress, which +she kept for best occasions. 'Now Nelly, you must rest.' + +Nelly let herself be put on the sofa in the drawing-room, and +Bridget--after praising the coffee, the softness of the chairs, the +beauty of the Japanese lilies, and much speculation on the value +of the Persian carpet which, she finally decided, was old and +priceless--announced that she was going for a walk. + +'Why don't you come too, Nelly? Come and look at the shops. You +shouldn't mope all day long. If they do send for you to nurse George, +you won't have the strength of a cat.' + +But Nelly had shrunk into herself. She said she would stay in and write +a letter to Hester Martin. Presently she was left alone. Mrs. Simpson +had cleared away, and shut all the doors between the sitting-rooms and +the kitchen. Inside the flat nothing was to be heard but the clock +ticking on the drawing-room mantelpiece. Outside, there were +intermittent noises and rattles from the traffic in the square, and +beyond that again the muffled insistent murmur which seemed to Nelly +this afternoon--in her utter loneliness--the most desolate sound she had +ever heard. The day had turned to rain and darkness, and the rapid +closing of the October afternoon prophesied winter. Nelly could not +rouse herself to write the letter to Miss Martin. She lay prone in a +corner of the sofa, dreaming, as she had done all her life; save that +the faculty--of setting in motion at will a stream of vivid and +connected images--which had always been one of her chief pleasures, was +now an obsession and a torment. How often, in her wakeful nights at +Rydal, had she lived over again every moment in the walk to Blea Tarn, +till at last, gathered once more on George's knees, and nestling to his +breast, she had fallen asleep--comforted. + +She went through it all, once more, in this strange room, as the +darkness closed; only the vision ended now, not in a tender thrill--half +conscious, fading into sleep--of remembered joy, but in an anguish of +sobbing, the misery of the frail tormented creature, unable to bear its +life. + +Nevertheless sleep came. For nights she had scarcely slept, and in the +silence immediately round her the distant sounds gradually lost their +dreary note, and became a rhythmical and soothing influence. She fell +into a deep unconsciousness. + + * * * * * + +An hour later, a tall man rang at the outer door of the flat. Mrs. +Simpson obeyed the summons, and found Sir William Farrell on the +threshold. + +'Well, have they come?' + +'Oh, yes, sir.' And Mrs. Simpson gave a rapid, _sotto voce_ account of +the visitors' arrival, their lunch, Mrs. Sarratt's sad looks--'poor +little lady!'--and much else. + +Sir William stepped in. + +'Are they at home?' + +Mrs. Simpson shook her head. + +'They went out after lunch, Sir William, and I have not heard them come +in.' + +Which, of course, was a mistake on the part of Mrs. Simpson, who, +hearing the front door close half an hour after luncheon and no +subsequent movement in the flat, had supposed that the sisters had gone +out together. + +'All right. I'll wait for them. I want to see Mrs. Sarratt before I +start. You may get me a cup of tea, if you like.' + +Mrs. Simpson disappeared with alacrity, and Farrell crossed the hall to +the drawing-room. He turned on the light as he opened the door, and was +at once aware of Nelly's slight form on the sofa. She did not move, and +something in her attitude--some rigidity that he fancied--alarmed him. +He took a few steps, and then saw that there was no cause for alarm. She +was only asleep, poor child, profoundly, pathetically asleep. Her utter +unconsciousness, the delicate hand and arm lying over the edge of the +sofa, and the gleam of her white forehead under its muffling cloud of +hair, moved him strangely. He retreated as quietly as he could, and +almost ran into Mrs. Simpson bringing a tray. He beckoned her into a +small room which he used as his own den. But he had hardly explained the +situation, before there were sounds in the drawing-room, and Nelly +opened the door, which he had closed behind him. He had forgotten to +turn out the light, and its glare had awakened her. + +'Oh, Sir William--' she said, in bewilderment--'Did you come in just +now?' + +He explained his proceedings, retaining the hand she gave him, and +looking down upon her with an impulsive and affectionate pity. + +'You were asleep. I disturbed you,' he said, remorsefully. + +'Oh no, do come in.' + +She led the way into the drawing-room. + +'I wanted--specially--to tell you some things I heard at Aldershot +to-day, which I thought might cheer you,' said Farrell. + +And sitting beside her, while Mrs. Simpson lit a fire and spread a white +tea-table, he repeated various stories of the safe return of 'missing' +men which he had collected for her that morning, including the narrative +of an escaped prisoner, who, although badly wounded, had managed to find +his way back, at night, from the neighbourhood of Brussels, through +various hairbreadth adventures and disguises, and after many weeks to +the British lines. He brought the tale to her, as an omen of hope, +together with his other gleanings; and under the influence of his +cheerful voice and manner, Nelly's aspect changed; the light came back +into her eyes, which hung upon him, as Farrell talked on, persuading +himself, as he persuaded her. So that presently, when tea came in, and +the kettle boiled, she was quite ready to pour out for him, to ask him +questions about his night journey, and thank him timidly for all his +kindness. + +'But this--this is too grand for us!'--she said, looking round her. 'We +must find a lodging soon.' + +He begged her earnestly to let the flat be of use to her, and she, +embarrassed and unwilling, but dreading to hurt his feelings, was +compelled at last to submit to a week's stay. + +Then he got up to go; and she was very sorry to say good-bye to him. As +for him, in her wistful and gracious charm, she had never seemed to him +more lovely. How she became grief!--in her measure reserve! + +He ran down the stairs of the mansion just as Bridget Cookson arrived +with the lift at the third floor. She recognised the disappearing +figure, and stood a moment at the door of the flat, looking after it, a +gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. + + + + +PART II + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +'Is she out?' + +The questioner was William Farrell, and the question was addressed to +his cousin Hester, whom he had found sitting in the little upstairs +drawing-room of the Rydal lodgings, partly knitting, but mostly +thinking, to judge from her slowly moving needles, and her absent eyes +fixed upon the garden outside the open window. + +'She has gone down to the lake--it is good for her to be alone a bit.' + +'You brought her up from Torquay?' + +'I did. We slept in London, and arrived yesterday. Miss Cookson comes +this evening.' + +'Why doesn't she keep away?' said Farrell, impatiently. + +He took a seat opposite his cousin. He was in riding-dress, and looked +in splendid case. From his boyhood he had always been coupled in +Hester's mind with the Biblical words--'ruddy and of a cheerful +countenance'; and as he sat there flushed with air and exercise, they +fitted him even better than usual. Yet there was modern subtlety too in +his restless eyes, and mouth alternately sensitive and ironic. + +Hester's needles began to ply a little faster. A spring wind came +through the window, and stirred her grey hair. + +'How did she get over it yesterday?' Farrell presently asked. + +'Well, of course it was hard,' said Hester, quietly. 'I let her alone, +poor child, and I told Mrs. Weston not to bother her. She came up to +these rooms and shut herself up a little. I went over to my own cottage, +and came back for supper. Then she had got it over--and I just kissed +her and said nothing. It was much best.' + +'Do you think she gives up hope?' + +Hester shook her head. + +'Not the least. You can see that.' + +'What do you mean?' + +'When she gives up hope, she will put on a black dress.' + +Farrell gave an impatient sigh. + +'You know there can't be the smallest doubt that Sarratt is dead! He +died in some German hospital, and the news has never come through.' + +'The Red Cross people at Geneva declare that if he had died in hospital +they would know. The identification disks are returned to them--so they +say--with remarkable care.' + +'Well then, he died on the field, and the Germans buried him.' + +'In which case the poor soul will know nothing--ever,' said Hester +sadly. 'But, of course, she believes he is a prisoner.' + +'My dear Hester, if he were, we should certainly have heard! Enquiries +are now much more thorough, and the results much more accurate, than +they were a year ago.' + +'Loss of memory?--shell-shock?' said Hester vaguely. + +'They don't do away with your disk, and your regimental marks, etc. +Whatever may happen to a private, an officer doesn't slip through and +vanish like this, if he is still alive. The thing is perfectly clear.' + +Hester shook her head without speaking. She was just as thoroughly +convinced as Farrell that Nelly was a widow; but she did not see how +anybody could proclaim it before Nelly did. + +'I wonder how long it will take to convince her,' said Farrell, after a +pause. + +'Well, I suppose when peace comes, if there's no news then, she will +have to give it up. By the way, when may one--legally--presume that +one's husband is dead?' asked Hester, suddenly lifting her shrewd grey +eyes to the face of her visitor. + +'It used to be seven years. But I believe now you can go to the +Courts--' + +'If a woman wants to re-marry? Well that, of course, Nelly Sarratt will +never do!' + +'My dear Hester, what nonsense!' said Farrell, vehemently. 'Of course +she'll marry again. What is she?--twenty-one? It would be a sin and a +shame.' + +'I only meant she would never take any steps of her own will to separate +herself from Sarratt.' + +'Women look at things far too sentimentally!' exclaimed Farrell, 'and +they just spoil their lives. However, neither you nor I can prophesy +anything. Time works wonders; and if he didn't, we should all be wrecks +and lunatics!' + +Hester said nothing. She was conscious of suppressed excitement in the +man before her. Farrell watched her knitting fingers for a little, and +then remarked:-- + +'But of course at present what has to be done, is to improve her health, +and distract her thoughts.' + +Hester's eyes lifted again. + +'And _you_ want to take it in hand?' + +Her emphasis on the pronoun was rather sharp. Farrell's fair though +sunburnt skin shewed a sudden redness. + +'Yes, I do. Why shouldn't I?' His look met hers full. + +'She's very lonely--very unprotected,' said Hester, slowly. + +'You mean, you can't trust me?' he said, flushing deeper. + +'No, Willy--no!' Hester's earnest, perplexed look appeased his rising +anger. 'But it's a very difficult position, you must see for yourself. +Ever since George Sarratt disappeared, you've been--what shall I +say?--the poor child's earthly Providence. Her illness--her +convalescence--you've done everything--you've provided everything--' + +'With her sister's consent, remember!--and I promised Sarratt to look +after them!' + +Farrell's blue eyes were now bright and stubborn. Hester realised him as +ready for an argument which both he and she had long foreseen. She and +Farrell had always been rather intimate friends, and he had come to her +for advice in some very critical moments of his life. + +'Her sister!' repeated Hester, contemptuously. 'Yes, indeed, Bridget +Cookson--in my opinion--is a great deal too ready to accept everything +you do! But Nelly has fought it again and again. Only, in her weakness, +with you on one side--and Bridget on the other--what could she do?' + +She had taken the plunge now. Her own colour had risen--her hand shook a +little on her needles. And she had clearly roused some strong emotion in +Farrell. After a few moments' silence, he fell upon her, speaking rather +huskily. + +'You mean I have taken advantage of her?' + +'I don't mean anything of the kind!' Hester's tone shewed her distress. +'I know that all you have done has been out of pure friendship and +goodness-- + +He stopped her. + +'Don't go on!' he said roughly. 'Whatever I am, I'm not a hypocrite. I +worship the ground she treads on!' + +There was silence. Hester bent again over her work. The thoughts of both +flew back over the preceding six months. Nelly's utter collapse after +five or six weeks in London, when the closest enquiries, backed by +Farrell's intelligence, influence and money--he had himself sent out a +special agent to Geneva--had failed to reveal the slightest trace of +George Sarratt; her illness, pneumonia, the result of a slight chill +affecting a general physical state depressed by grief and sleeplessness; +her long and tedious convalescence; and that pitiful dumbness and +inertia from which she had only just begun to emerge. Hester was +thinking too of the nurses, the doctors, the lodgings at Torquay, the +motor, the endless flowers and books!--all provided, practically, by +Farrell, aided and abetted by Bridget's readiness--a discreditable +readiness, in the eyes of a person of such Spartan standards as Hester +Martin--to avail herself to any extent of other people's money. The +patient was not to blame. Even in the worst times of her illness, Nelly +had shewn signs of distress and revolt. But Bridget, instructed by +Farrell, had talked vaguely of 'a loan from a friend'; and Nelly had +been too ill, too physically weak, to urge enquiry further. + +Seeing that he was to blame, Farrell broke in upon Hester's +recollections. + +'You know very well'--he said vehemently--'that if anything less had +been done for her, she would have died!' + +Would she? It was the lavishness and costliness of Farrell's giving +which had shocked Hester's sense of delicacy, and had given rise--she +was certain--to gossip among the Farrell friends and kindred that could +easily have been avoided. She looked at her companion steadily. + +'Suppose we grant it, Willy. But now she's convalescent, she's going to +get strong. Let her live her own life. You can't marry her--and'--she +added it deliberately--'she is as much in love with her poor George as +she ever was!' + +Farrell moved restlessly in his chair. She saw him wince--and she had +intended the blow. + +'I can't marry her--yet--perhaps for years. But why can't I be her +friend? Why can't I share with her the things that give me +pleasure--books--art--and all the rest? Why should you condemn me to see +her living on a pittance, with nobody but a sister who is as hard as +nails to look after her?--lonely, and unhappy, and dull--when I know +that I could help her, turn her mind away from her trouble--make her +take some pleasure in life again? You talk, Hester, as though we had a +dozen lives to play with, instead of this one rickety business!' + +His resentment grew with the expression of it. But Hester met him +unflinchingly. + +'I'm anxious--because human nature is human nature--and risk is risk,' +she said slowly. + +He bent forward, his hands on his knees. + +'I swear to you I will be honestly her friend! What do you take me for, +Hester? You know very well that--I have had my adventures, and they're +over. I'm not a boy. I can answer for myself.' + +'All very well!--but suppose--_suppose_--before she felt herself +free--and against her conscience--_she_ were to fall in love with +_you_?' + +Farrell could not conceal the flash that the mere words, reluctantly as +they were spoken, sent through his blue eyes. He laughed. + +'Well--you're there! Act watch-dog as much as you please. Besides--we +all know--you have just said so--that she does not believe in Sarratt's +death, that she feels herself still his wife, and not his widow. That +fact establishes the relation between her and me. And if the outlook +changes--' + +His voice dropped to a note of pleading-- + +'Let me, Hester!--let me!' + +'As if I could prevent you!' said Hester, rather bitterly, bending again +over her work. + +'Yes, you could. You have such influence with her now, that you could +banish me entirely if you pleased. A word from you would do it. But it +would be hideously cruel of you--and abominally unjust! However, I know +your power--over her--and so over me. And so I made up my mind it was no +good trying to conceal anything from you. I've told you straight out. I +love her--and because I love her--you may be perfectly certain I shall +protect her!' + +Silence again. Farrell had turned towards the open window. When Hester +turned her eyes she saw his handsome profile, his Nibelung's head and +beard against the stony side of the fell. A man with unfair advantages, +it seemed to her, if he chose to put out his strength;--the looks of a +king, a warm heart, a sympathetic charm, felt quite as much by men as by +women, and ability which would have distinguished him in any career, if +his wealth had not put the drag on industry. But at the moment he was +not idle. He was more creditably and fully employed then she had ever +known him. His hospital and his pride in it were in fact Nelly Sarratt's +best safeguard. Whatever he wished, he could not possibly spend all his +time at her feet. + +Hester tried one more argument--the conventional. + +'Have you ever really asked yourself, Willy, how it will look to the +outside world--what people will think? It is all very well to scoff at +Mrs. Grundy, but the poor child has no natural guardian. We both agree +her sister is no use to her.' + +'Let them think!'--he turned to her again with energy--'so long as you +and I _know_. Besides--I shan't compromise her in any way. I shall be +most careful not to do so.' + +'Look at this room!' said Hester drily. She herself surveyed it. +Farrell's laugh had a touch of embarrassment. + +'Well?--mayn't anyone give things to a sick child? Hush!--here she is!' + +He drew further back into the room, and they both watched a little +figure in a serge dress crossing the footbridge beyond the garden. Then +she came into the garden, and up the sloping lawn, her hat dangling in +her hand, and the spring sunshine upon her. Hester thought of the +preceding June; of the little bride, with her springing step, and +radiant eyes. Nelly, as she was now, seemed to her the typical +figure--or rather, one of the two typical figures of the war--the man in +action, the woman in bereavement. Sorrow had marked her; bitten into her +youth, and blurred it. Yet it had also dignified and refined her. She +was no less lovely. + +As she approached, she saw them and waved to them. Farrell went to the +sitting-room door to meet her, and it seemed both to him and Hester that +in spite of her emaciation and her pallor, she brought the spring in +with her. She had a bunch of willow catkins and primroses in her hand, +and her face, for all its hollow cheeks and temples, shewed just a +sparkle of returning health. + +It was clear that she was pleased to see Farrell. But her manner of +greeting him now was very different from what it had been in the days +before her loss. It was much quieter and more assured. His +seniority--there were nineteen years between them--his conspicuous +place in the world, his knowledge and accomplishment, had evidently +ceased to intimidate her. Something had equalised them. + +But his kindness could still make her shy. + +Half-way across the room, she caught sight of a picture, on an easel, +both of which Farrell had brought with him. + +'Oh!---' she said, and stopped short, looking from it to him. + +He enjoyed her surprise. + +'Well? Do you remember admiring it at the cottage? I'm up to the neck in +work. I never go there. I thought you and Hester might as well take care +of it for a bit.' + +Nelly approached it. It was one of the Turner water-colours which +glorified the cottage; the most adorable, she thought, of all of them. +It shewed a sea of downs, their grassy backs flowing away wave after +wave, down to the real sea in the gleaming distance. Between the downs +ran a long valley floor--cottages on it, woods and houses, farms and +churches, strung on a silver river; under the mingled cloud and sunshine +of an April day. It breathed the very soul of England,--of this sacred +long-descended land of ours. Sarratt, who had stood beside her when she +had first looked at it, had understood it so at once. + +'Jolly well worth fighting for--this country! isn't it?' he had said to +Farrell over her head, and once or twice afterwards he had spoken to her +of the drawing with delight. 'I shall think of it--over there. It'll do +one good.' + +As she paused before it now, a sob rose in her throat. But she +controlled herself quickly. Then something beyond the easel caught her +eye--a mass of flowers, freesias, narcissus, tulips, tumbled on a table; +then a pile of new books; and finally, a surprising piece of furniture. + +'What have you been doing now?' she asked him, wondering, and, as Hester +thought, shrinking back a little. + +'It's from Cicely'--he said apologetically. 'She made me bring it. She +declared she'd sampled the sofa here,--' he pointed to an ancient one in +a corner--'and it would disgrace a dug-out. It's her affair--don't blame +me!' + +Nelly looked bewildered. + +'But I'm not ill now. I'm getting well.' + +'If you only knew what a ghost you look still,' he said vehemently, +'you'd let Cicely have her little plot. This used to stand in my +mother's sitting-room. It was bought for her. Cicely had it put to +rights.' + +As he spoke, he made a hasty mental note that Cicely would have to be +coached in her part. + +Nelly examined the object. It was a luxurious adjustable couch, covered +in flowery chintz, with a reading-desk, and well supplied with the +softest cushions. + +She laughed, but there was rather a flutter in her laugh. + +'It's awfully kind of Cicely. But you know--' + +Her eyes turned on Farrell with a sudden insistence. Hester had just +left the room, and her distant voice--with other voices--could be heard +in the garden. + +'--You know you mustn't--all of you--spoil me so, any more. I've got my +life to face. You mean it so kindly--but--' + +She sank into a chair by the window that Farrell had placed for her, and +her aspect struck him painfully. There was so much weakness in it; and +yet a touch of fierceness. + +'I've got my life to face,' she repeated--'and you mustn't, Sir +William--you _mustn't_ let me get too dependent on you--and Cicely--and +Hester. Be my friend--my true friend--and help me--' + +She bent forward, and her pale lips just breathed the rest-- + +'Help me--_to endure hardness_! That's what I want--for George's +sake--and my own. I must find some work to do. In a few months perhaps I +might be able to teach--but there are plenty of things I could do now. I +want to be just--neglected a little--treated as a normal person!' + +She smiled faintly at him as he stood beside her. He felt himself +rebuked--abashed--as though he had been in some sort an intruder on her +spiritual freedom; had tried to purchase her dependence by a kindness +she did not want. That was not in her mind, he knew. But it was in +Hester's. And there was not wanting a certain guilty consciousness in +his own. + +But he threw it off. Absurdity! She _did_ need his friendship; and he +had done what he had done without the shadow of a corrupt motive--_en +tout bien, tout honneur_. + +It was intolerable to him to think of her as poor and resourceless--left +to that disagreeable sister and her own melancholy thoughts. Still the +first need of all was that she should trust him--as a good friend, who +had slipped by force of circumstances into a kind of guardian's +position. Accordingly he applied himself to the kind of persuasion that +befits seniority and experience. She had asked to be treated as a normal +person. He proved to her, gently laughing at her, that the claim was +preposterous. Ask her doctor!--ask Hester! As for teaching, time enough +to talk about that when she had a little flesh on her bones, a little +strength in her limbs. She might read, of course; that was what the +couch was for. Lying there by the window she might become as learned as +she liked, and get strong at the same time. He would keep her stocked +with books. The library at Carton was going mouldy for lack of use. And +as for her drawing, he had hoped--perhaps--she might some time take a +lesson-- + +Then he saw a little shiver run through her. + +'Could I?' she said in a low voice, turning her face away. And he +perceived that the bare idea of resuming old pleasures--the pleasures of +her happy, her unwidowed time--was still a shock to her. + +'I'm sure it would help'--he said, persevering. 'You have a real turn +for water-colour. You should cultivate it--you should really. In my +belief you might do a great deal better with it than with teaching.' + +That roused her. She sat up, her eyes brightening. + +'If I _worked_--you really think? And then,' her voice dropped--'if +George came back--' + +'Exactly,' he said gravely--'it might be of great use. Didn't you wish +for something normal to do? Well, here's the chance. I can supply you +with endless subjects to copy. There are more in the cottage than you +would get through in six months. And I could send you over portfolios of +my own studies and _académies_, done at Paris, and in the Slade, which +would help you--and sometimes we could take some work out of doors.' + +She said nothing, but her sad puzzled eyes, as they wandered over the +garden and the lake, shewed that she was considering it. + +Then suddenly her expression changed. + +'Isn't that Cicely's voice?' She motioned towards the garden. + +'I daresay. I sent on the motor to meet her at Windermere. She's been in +town for two or three weeks, selling at Red Cross Bazaars and things. +And by George!--isn't that Marsworth?' + +He sprang up to look, and verified his guess. The tall figure on the +lawn with Cicely and Hester was certainly Marsworth. He and Nelly looked +at each other, and Nelly smiled. + +'You know Cicely and I have become great friends?' she said shyly. 'It's +so odd that I should call her Cicely--but she makes me.' + +'She treats you nicely?--at last?' + +'She's awfully good to me,' said Nelly, with emphasis. 'I used to be so +afraid of her.' + +'What wrought the miracle?' + +But Nelly shook her head, and would not tell. + +'I had a letter from Marsworth a week ago,' said Farrell +reflecting--'asking how and where we all were. I told him I was tied and +bound to Carton--no chance of getting away for ages--but that Cicely had +kicked over the traces and gone up to London for a month. Then he sent a +post-card to say that he was coming up for a fortnight's treatment, and +would go to his old quarters at the Rectory. Ah!--' + +He paused, grinning. The same thought occurred to both of them. +Marsworth was still suffering very much at times from his neuralgia in +the arm, and had a great belief in one of the Carton surgeons, who, with +Farrell's aid, had now installed one of the most complete electrical and +gymnastic apparatus in the kingdom, at the Carton hospital. Once, during +an earlier absence of Cicely's before Christmas, he had suddenly +appeared at the Rectory, for ten days' treatment; and now--again! +Farrell laughed. + +'As for Cicely, you can never count on her for a week together. She got +home-sick, and wired to me that she was coming to-night. I forgot all +about Marsworth. I expect they met at the station; and quarrelled all +the way here. What on earth is Cicely after in that direction! You say +you've made friends with her. Do you know?' + +Nelly looked conscious. + +'I--I guess something,' she said. + +'But you mustn't tell?' + +She nodded, smiling. Farrell shrugged his shoulders. + +'Well, am I to encourage Marsworth--supposing he comes to me for +advice--to go and propose to the Rector's granddaughter?' + +'Certainly not!' said Nelly, opening a pair of astonished eyes. + +'Aha, I've caught you! You've given the show away. But you know'--his +tone grew serious--'it's not at all impossible that he may. She torments +him too much.' + +'He must do nothing of the kind,' said Nelly, with decision. + +'Well, you tell him so. I wash my hands of them. I can't fathom either +of them. Here they are!' + +Voices ascending the stairs announced the party. Cicely came in first; +tired and travel-stained, and apparently in the worst of tempers. But +she seemed glad to see Nelly Sarratt, whom she kissed, to the +astonishment of her Cousin Hester, who was not as yet aware of the new +relations between the two. And then, flinging herself into a chair +beside Nelly, she declared that she was dead-beat, that the train had +been intolerably full of khaki, and that soldiers ought to have trains +to themselves. + +'Thank your stars, Cicely, that you are allowed to travel at all,' said +Farrell. 'No civilian nowadays matters a hap'orth.' + +'And then we talk about Prussian Militarism!' cried Cicely. And she went +off at score describing the invasion of her compartment at Rugby by a +crowd of young officers, whose manners were 'atrocious.' + +'What was their crime?' asked Marsworth, quietly. He sat in the +background, cigarette in hand, a strong figure, rather harshly drawn, +black hair slightly grizzled, a black moustache, civilian clothes. He +had filled out since the preceding summer and looked much better in +health. But his left arm was still generally in its sling. + +'They had every crime!' said Cicely impatiently. 'It isn't worth +discriminating.' + +Marsworth raised his eyebrows. + +'Poor boys!' + +Cicely flushed. + +'You think, of course, I have no right to criticise anything in khaki!' + +'Not at all. Criticism is the salt of life.' His eyes twinkled. + +'That I entirely deny!' said Cicely, firmly. She made a fantastic but +agreeable figure as she sat near the window in the full golden light of +the March evening. Above her black toque there soared a feather which +almost touched the ceiling of the low room--a _panache_, nodding +defiance; while her short grey skirts shewed her shapely ankles and +feet, clothed in grey gaiters and high boots of the very latest +perfection. + +'What do you deny, Cicely?' asked her brother, absently, conscious +always, through all the swaying of talk, of the slight childish form of +Nelly Sarratt beneath him, in her deep chair; and of the eyes and mouth, +which after the few passing smiles he had struck from them, were veiled +again in their habitual sadness. '_Here I and sorrow sit_.' The words +ran through his mind, only to be passionately rejected. She was +young!--and life was long. Forget she would, and must. + +At her brother's question, Cicely merely shrugged her shoulders. + +'Your sister was critical,' said Marsworth, laughing,--'and then denies +the uses of criticism.' + +'As some people employ it!' said Cicely, pointedly. + +Marsworth's mouth twitched--but he said nothing. + +Then Hester, perceiving that the atmosphere was stormy, started some of +the usual subjects that relieve tension; the weather--the possibility of +a rush of Easter tourists to the Lakes--the daffodils that were +beginning to make beauty in some sheltered places. Marsworth assisted +her; while Cicely took a chair beside Nelly, and talked exclusively to +her, in a low voice. Presently Hester saw their hands slip +together--Cicely's long and vigorous fingers enfolding Nelly's thin +ones. How had two such opposites ever come to make friends? The kindly +old maid was very conscious of cross currents in the spiritual air, as +she chatted to Marsworth. She was keenly aware of Farrell, and could not +keep the remembrance of what he had said to her out of her mind. Nelly's +face and form, also, as the twilight veiled them, were charged for +Hester with pitiful meaning. While at the back of her thoughts there was +an expectation, a constant and agitating expectation, of another +arrival. Bridget Cookson might be upon them at any moment. To Hester +Martin she was rapidly becoming a disquieting and sinister element in +this group of people. Yet why, Hester could not really have explained. + +The afternoon was rapidly drawing in, and Farrell was just beginning to +take out his watch, and talk of starting home, when the usual clatter of +wheels and hoofs announced the arrival of the evening coach. Nelly sat +up, looking very white and weary. + +'I am expecting my sister,' she said to Farrell. 'She has no doubt come +by this coach.' + +And in a few more minutes, Bridget was in the room, distributing to +everybody there the careless staccato greetings which were her way of +protecting herself against the world. Her entrance and her manner had +always a disintegrating effect upon other human beings; and Bridget had +no sooner shaken hands with the Farrells than everybody--save Nelly--was +upon their feet and ready to move. One of Bridget's most curious and +marked characteristics was an unerring instinct for whatever news might +be disagreeable to the company in which she found herself; and on this +occasion she brought some bad war news--a German advance at Verdun, with +corresponding French losses--and delivered it with the emphasis of one +to whom it was not really unwelcome. Cicely, to whom, flourishing her +evening paper, she had mainly addressed herself, listened with the +haughty and casual air she generally put on for Bridget Cookson. She had +succumbed for her own reasons to the charm of Nelly. She was only the +more inclined to be rude to Bridget. Accordingly she professed complete +incredulity on the subject of the news. 'Invented,'--she supposed--'to +sell some halfpenny rag or other. It would all be contradicted +to-morrow.' Then when Bridget, smarting under so much scepticism, +attempted to support her tale by the testimony of various stale morsels +of military gossip, current in a certain pessimist and pacifist +household she had been visiting in Manchester, as to the unfavourable +situation in France, and the dead certainty of the loss of Verdun; +passing glibly on to the 'bad staff work' on the British side, and the +'poor quality of the new officers compared to the old,' etc.--Cicely +visibly turned up her nose, and with a few deft, cat-like strokes put a +raw provincial in her place. She, Cicely, of course--she made it plain, +by a casual hint or two--had just come from the very centre of things; +from living on a social diet of nothing less choice than Cabinet +Ministers and leading Generals--Bonar Law, Asquith, Curzon, Briand, +Lloyd George, Thomas, the great Joffre himself. Bridget began to scowl a +little, and had it been anyone else than Cicely Farrell who was thus +chastising her, would soon have turned her back upon them. For she was +no indiscriminate respecter of persons, and cared nothing at all about +rank or social prestige. But from a Farrell she took all things +patiently; till Cicely, suddenly discovering that her victim was giving +her no sport, called peremptorily to 'Willy' to help her put on her +cloak. But Farrell was having some last words with Nelly, and Marsworth +came forward-- + +'Let me--' + +'Oh thank you!' said Cicely carelessly, 'I can manage it myself.' And +she did not allow him to touch it. + +Marsworth retreated, and Hester, who had seen the little incident, +whispered indignantly in her cousin's ear-- + +'Cicely!--you are a wicked little wretch!' + +But Cicely only laughed, and her feather made defiant nods and +flourishes all the way downstairs. + +'Come along Marsworth, my boy,' said Farrell when the good-byes were +said, and Hester stood watching their departure, while Cicely chattered +from the motor, where she sat wrapped in furs against a rising east +wind. 'Outside--or inside?' He pointed to the car. + +'Outside, thank you,' said Marsworth, with decision. He promptly took +his place beside the chauffeur, and Farrell and his sister were left to +each other's company. Farrell had seldom known his companion more cross +and provoking than she was during the long motor ride home; and on their +arrival at Carton she jumped out of the car, and with barely a nod to +Marsworth, vanished into the house. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Nelly had let Hester install her on the Carton couch, and lay +there well shawled, beside the window, her delicate face turned to the +lake and the mountains. Bridget was unpacking, and Hester was just +departing to her own house. Nelly could hardly let her go. For a month +now, Hester had been with her at Torquay, while Bridget was pursuing +some fresh 'work' in London. And Nelly's desolate heart had found both +calm and bracing in Hester's tenderness. For the plain shapeless +spinster was one of those rare beings who in the Lampadephoria of life, +hand on the Lamp of Love, pure and undefiled, as they received it from +men and women, like themselves, now dead. + +But Hester went at last, and Nelly was alone. The lake lay steeped in a +rich twilight, into which the stars were rising. The purple breast of +Silver How across the water breathed of shelter, of rest, of things +ineffable. Nelly's eyes were full of tears, and her hands clasped on her +breast scarcely kept down the sobbing. There, under the hands, was the +letter which George had written to her, the night before he left her. +She had been told of its existence within a few days of his +disappearance; and though she longed for it, a stubborn instinct had +bade her refuse to have it, refuse to open it. 'No!--I was only to open +it, if George was dead. And he is not dead!' And as time went on, it had +seemed to her for months, as if to open it, would be in some mysterious +way to seal his fate. But at last she had sent for it--at last she had +read it--with bitter tears. + +She would wear no black for him--her lost lover. She told herself to +hope still. But she was, in truth, beginning to despair. And into her +veins, all unconsciously, as into those of the old brown earth, the +tides of youth, the will to live, were slowly, slowly, surging back. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +'You have gone far enough,' said Cicely imperiously. 'I am going to take +you home.' + +'Let me sit a little first. It's all so lovely. Nelly dropped into the +soft springy turf, dried by a mild east wind, and lay curled up under a +rock, every tremulous nerve in her still frail body played on by the +concert of earth and sky before her. It was May; the sky was china-blue, +and the clouds sailed white upon it. The hawthorns too were white upon +the fell-side, beside the ageing gold of the gorse, while below, the +lake lay like roughened silver in its mountain cup, and on the sides of +Nab Scar, below the screes, the bronze of the oaks ran in and out among +the feathery green of the larch plantations, or the flowering grass of +the hay-meadows dropping to the lake. The most spiritual moment of the +mountain spring was over. This was earth in her moment of ferment, +rushing towards the fruition of summer. + +Nelly's youth was keenly, automatically conscious of the physical +pleasure of the day; except indeed for recurrent moments, when that very +pleasure revived the sharpness of grief. Soon it would be the +anniversary of her wedding day. Every hour of that day, and of the +honeymoon bliss which followed it, seemed to be still so close to her. +Surely she had only to put out her hand to find his, and all the horror +and the anguish swept away. Directly she shut her eyes on this spring +scene, she was in that other life, which had been, and therefore must +still be. + +But she had not been talking of him with Cicely. She very seldom talked +of him now, or of the past. She kept up correspondence with half a dozen +men of his company--the brother officer to whom Sarratt had given his +last letter--a sergeant, and three or four privates, who had written to +her about him. She had made friends with them all, especially with the +young lieutenant. They seemed to like hearing from her; and she followed +all their migrations and promotions with a constant sympathy. One of +them had just written to her from a hospital at Boulogne. He had been +seriously wounded in a small affair near Festubert early in May. He was +getting better he said, but he hardly cared whether he recovered or not. +Everybody he cared for in the regiment had 'gone west' in the fighting +of the preceding month. No big push either,--just many little affairs +that came to nothing--it was 'damned luck!' There was one of his +officers that he couldn't get over--he couldn't get over 'Mr. Edward' +being killed. He--the writer--had been Mr. Edward's servant for a month +or two--having known his people at home--and a nicer young fellow +never stepped. 'When I go back, I'm going to look for Mr. Edward--they +say he was buried close to the trenches where he fell, and I'm going to +put him in some quiet place; and then when the war's over we can bring +him back to Baston Magna, and lay him with his own people in Baston +churchyard.' + +'I wonder who Mr. Edward was,' said Nelly to herself, with half shut +eyes. She had entirely forgotten Cicely's neighbourhood. But Cicely +turned round, and asked her what she was thinking of. Nelly repeated the +letter, and Cicely suddenly shewed agitation--'Edward!--Baston +Magna!--he means Edward Longmore!' + +Cicely rarely cried. When she was moved, she had a way of turning a +grey-white, and speaking with particular deliberation, as though every +word were an effort. Of late, for some mysterious reason, she only +indulged occasionally in 'make-up'; there was no rouge, at any rate, on +this afternoon, to disguise her change of colour. She looked oddly at +Nelly. + +'I danced with him at Christmas,' she said. 'There was a very smart +party at a house in Grosvenor Square. The Prince was there, home on +short leave, and about twenty young men in khaki, and twenty girls. +Edward Longmore was there--he wrote to me afterwards. Oh, he was much +younger than I. He was the dearest, handsomest, bravest little fellow. +When I saw his name in the list--I just'--she ground her small white +teeth--'I just _cursed_ the war! Do you know'--she rolled over on the +grass beside Nelly, her chin in her hands--'the July before the war, I +used to play tennis in a garden near London. There were always five or +six boys hanging about there--jolly handsome boys, with everything that +anybody could want--family, and money, and lots of friends--all the +world before them. And there's not one of them left. They're all +_dead_--_dead_! Think of that! Boys of twenty and twenty-one. What'll +the girls do they used to play and dance with? All their playfellows are +gone. They can't marry--they'll never marry. It hadn't anything to do +with me, of course. I'm twenty-eight. I felt like a mother to them! But +I shan't marry either!' + +Nelly didn't answer for a moment. Then she put out a hand and turned +Cicely's face towards her. + +'Where is he?--and what is he doing?' she said, half laughing, but +always with that something behind her smile which seemed to set her +apart. + +Cicely sat up. + +'He? Oh, that gentleman! Well, _he_ has got some fresh work--just the +work he wanted, he says, in the Intelligence Department, and he writes +to Willy that life is "extraordinarily interesting," and he's "glad to +have lived to see this thing, horrible as it is."' + +'Well, you wouldn't wish him to be miserable?' + +'I should have no objection at all to his being miserable,' said Cicely +calmly, 'but I am not such a fool as to suppose that I should ever know +it, if he were.' + +'Cicely!' + +Cicely took up a stalk of grass, and began to bite it. Her eyes seemed +on fire. Nelly was suddenly aware of the flaming up of fierce elemental +things in this fashionably dressed young woman whose time was oddly +divided between an important share in the running of her brother's +hospital, and a hungry search after such gaieties as a world at war +might still provide her with. She could spend one night absorbed in some +critical case, and eagerly rendering the humblest V.A.D. service to the +trained nurses whom her brother paid; and the next morning she would +travel to London in order to spend the second night in one of those +small dances at great houses of which she had spoken to Nelly, where the +presence of men just come from, or just departing to, the firing line +lent a zest to the talk and the flirting, the jealousies and triumphs of +the evening that the dances of peace must do without. Then after a +morning of wild spending in the shops she would take a midday train back +to Cumberland and duty. + +Nelly, looking at her, wondered afresh how they had ever come to be +friends. Yet they were friends, and her interest in Cicely's affairs was +one of the slender threads drawing her back to life. + +It had all happened when she was ill at the flat; after that letter from +the Geneva Red Cross which reported that in spite of exhaustive +enquiries among German hospitals, and in the prisoners' camps no trace +of Lieutenant Sarratt could be found. On the top of the letter, and the +intolerable despair into which it had plunged her, had come influenza. +There was no doubt--Nelly's recollection faced it candidly--that she +would have come off badly but for Cicely. Bridget had treated the +illness on the hardening plan, being at the moment slightly touched with +Christian Science. Nelly should 'think it away.' To stay in bed and give +in was folly. She meanwhile had found plenty to do in London, and was +away for long hours. In one of these absences, Cicely--having been +seized with a sudden hunger for the flesh-pots of 'town'--appeared at +the flat with her maid. She discovered Nelly Sarratt in bed, and so weak +as to be hardly capable of answering any question. Mrs. Simpson was +doing her best; but she gave an indignant account of Bridget's +behaviour, and Cicely at once took a strong line, both as a professional +nurse--of sorts--and as mistress of the flat. Bridget, grimly defensive, +was peremptorily put on one side, and Cicely devoted the night she was +to have spent in dancing to tending her half-conscious guest. In the +days that followed she fell, quite against her will, under the touching +charm of Nelly's refinement, humility and sweetness. Her own trenchant +and masterful temper was utterly melted, for the time, by Nelly's +helpless state, by the grief which threatened to kill her, and by a +gratefulness for any kindness shewn her, which seemed to Cicely almost +absurd. + +She fell in love--impetuously--with the little creature thus thrown upon +her pity. She sent for a trained nurse and their own doctor. She wired +for Hester Martin, and in forty-eight hours Bridget had been entirely +ousted, and Nelly's state had begun to shew signs of improvement. +Bridget took the matter stoically. 'I know nothing about nursing,' she +said, with composure. 'If you wish to look after my sister, by all means +look after her. Many thanks. I propose to go and stay near the British +Museum, and will look in here when I can.' + +So she departed, and Cicely stayed in London for three weeks until Nelly +was strong enough to go to Torquay. Then, reluctantly, she gave up her +charge to Bridget, she being urgently wanted at Carton, and Hester at +Rydal. Bridget reappeared on the scene with the same sangfroid as she +had left it. She had no intention of quarrelling with the Farrells +whatever they might do; and in an eminently satisfactory interview with +Sir William--quite unknown to Nelly--she allowed him to give her a +cheque which covered all their expenses at Torquay. + +Meanwhile Nelly had discovered Cicely's secret--which indeed was not +very secret. Captain Marsworth had appeared in London for the purpose of +attending his Medical Board, and called at the flat. Nelly was by that +time on the sofa, with Cicely keeping guard, and Nelly could sometimes +deaden her own consciousness for a little in watching the two. What +were they after? Marsworth's ethical enthusiasms and resentments, the +prophetic temper that was growing upon him in relation to the war, his +impatience of idleness and frivolity and 'slackness,' of all modes of +life that were not pitched in a key worthy of that continuous sacrifice +of England's youngest and noblest that was going on perpetually across +the Channel:--these traits in him made it very easy to understand why, +after years of philandering with Cicely Farrell, he was now, apparently, +alienated from her, and provoked by her. But then, why did he still +pursue her?--why did he still lay claim to the privileges of their old +intimacy, and why did Cicely allow him to do so? + +At last one evening, after a visit from Marsworth which had been one jar +from beginning to end, Cicely had suddenly dropped on a stool, beside +Nelly on the sofa. + +'What an intolerable man!' she said with crimson cheeks. 'Shall I tell +Simpson not to let him in again?' + +Nelly looked her surprise, for as yet there had been no confidence on +this subject between them. And then had come a torrent--Cicely walking +stormily up and down the room, and pouring out her soul. + +The result of which outpouring was that through all the anger and +denunciation, Nelly very plainly perceived that Cicely was a captured +creature, endeavouring to persuade herself that she was still free. She +loved Marsworth--and hated him. She could not make up her mind to give +up for his sake the 'lust of the eye and the pride of life,' as he +clearly would endeavour to make her give them up, the wild bursts of +gaiety and flirting for which she periodically rushed up to town, the +passion for dress, the reckless extravagance with which it pleased her +to shock him whenever they met. And he also--so it seemed to Nelly--was +torn by contradictory feelings. As soon as Cicely was within reach, he +could not keep away from her; and yet when confronted with her, and some +new vagary, invented probably to annoy him, though he might refrain +'even from good words,' his critical mouth and eye betrayed him, and set +the offender in a fury. + +However, it was the quarrels between these two strange lovers, if they +were lovers, that had made a friendship, warm and real--on Cicely's side +even impassioned--between Nelly and Cicely. For Cicely had at last found +someone--not of her own world--to whom she could talk in safety. Yet she +had treated the Sarratts cavalierly to begin with, just because they +were outsiders, and because 'Willy' was making such a fuss with them; +for she was almost as easily jealous in her brother's case as in +Marsworth's. But now Nelly's sad remoteness from ordinary life, her very +social insignificance, and the lack of any links between her and the +great Farrell kinship of relations and friends, made her company, and +her soft, listening ways specially welcome and soothing to Cicely's +excited mood. + +During the latter half of the winter they had corresponded, though +Cicely was the worst of letter-writers; and since Nelly and her sister +had been in Rydal again there had been constant meetings. Nelly's +confidences in return for Cicely's were not many nor frequent. The +effects of grief were to be seen in her aspect and movements, in her +most pathetic smile, in her increased dreaminess, and the inertia +against which she struggled in vain. Since May began, she had for the +first time put on black. Nobody had dared to speak to her about it, so +sharply did the black veil thrown back from the childish brow intensify +the impression that she made, as of something that a touch might break. +But the appearance of the widow's dress seemed to redouble the +tenderness with which every member of the little group of people among +whom she lived treated her--always excepting her sister. Nelly had in +vain protested to Farrell against the 'spoiling' of which she was the +object. 'Spoiled' she was, and it was clear both to Hester and Cicely, +after a time, that though she had the will, she had not the strength to +resist. + +Unless on one point. She had long since stopped all subsidies of money +from Farrell through Bridget, having at last discovered the plain facts +about them. Her letter of thanks to him for all he had done for her was +at once so touching and so determined, that he had not dared since to +cross her will. All that he now found it possible to urge was that the +sisters would allow him to lend them a vacant farmhouse of his, not far +from the Loughrigg Tarn cottage. Nelly had been so far unwilling; it was +clear that her heart clung to the Rydal lodgings. But Hester and Cicely +were both on Farrell's side. The situation of the farm was higher and +more bracing than Rydal; and both Cicely and Farrell cherished the +notion of making it a home for Nelly, until indeed-- + +At this point Farrell generally succeeded in putting a strong rein upon +his thoughts, as part of the promise he had made to Hester. But Cicely, +who was much cooler and more matter of fact than her brother, had long +since looked further ahead. Willy was in love, irrevocably in love with +Nelly Sarratt. That had been plain to her for some time. Before those +days in the flat, when she herself had fallen in love with Nelly, and +before the disappearance of George Sarratt, she had resented Willy's +absurd devotion to a little creature who, for all her beauty, seemed to +Cicely merely an insignificant member of the middle classes, with a +particularly impossible sister. And as to the notion that Mrs. Sarratt +might become at some distant period her brother's wife, Lady Farrell of +Carton, Cicely would have received it with scorn, and fought the +realisation of it tooth and nail. Yet now all the 'Farrell feeling,' the +Farrell pride, in this one instance, at any rate, was gone. Why? Cicely +didn't know. She supposed first because Nelly was such a dear creature, +and next because the war had made such a curious difference in things. +The old lines were being rubbed out. And Cicely, who had been in her day +as exclusively snobbish as any other well-born damsel, felt now that it +would not matter in the least if they remained rubbed out. Persons who +'did things' by land or sea; persons who invented things; persons with +ideas; persons who had the art of making others follow them into the +jaws of death;--these were going to be the aristocracy of the future. +Though the much abused aristocracy of the present hadn't done badly +either! + +So she was only concerned with the emotional aspects of her brother's +state. Was Nelly now convinced of her husband's death?--was that what +her black meant? And if she were convinced, and it were legally possible +for her to marry again and all that--what chance would there be for +Willy? Cicely was much puzzled by Nelly's relation to him. She had seen +many signs, pathetic signs, of a struggle on Nelly's side against +Farrell's influence; especially in the time immediately following her +first return to the north in March. She had done her best then, it +seemed to Cicely, to do without him and to turn to other interests and +occupations than those he set her, and she had failed; partly no doubt +owing to her physical weakness, which had put an end to many +projects,--that of doing week-end munition work for instance--but still +more, surely, to Farrell's own qualities. 'He is such a charmer with +women,' thought Cicely, half smiling; 'that's what it is.' + +By which she meant that he had the very rare gift of tenderness; of +being able to make a woman feel, that as a human being, quite apart from +any question of passion, she interested and touched him. It was just +sympathy, she supposed, the artistic magnetic quality in him, which made +him so attractive to women, and women so attractive to him. He was no +longer a young man in the strict sense; he was a man of forty, with the +prestige of great accomplishment, and a wide knowledge of life. It was +generally supposed that he had done with love-affairs, and women +instinctively felt it safe to allow him a personal freedom towards them, +which from other men would have offended them. He might pat a girl's +shoulder, or lay a playful grasp on a woman's arm, and nobody minded; it +was a sign of his liking, and most people wished to be liked by him. +However he never allowed himself any half-caress of the kind towards +Nelly Sarratt now; and once or twice, in the old days, before Sarratt's +disappearance, Cicely had fancied that she had seen Nelly check rather +sharply one of these demonstrations of Willy's which were so natural to +him, and in general so unconscious and innocent. + +And now he never attempted them. What did that mean? Simply--so Cicely +thought--that he was in love, and dared venture such things no longer. +But all the same there were plenty of devices open to him by which week +after week he surrounded Nelly with a network of care, which implied +that he was always thinking of her; which were in fact a caress, +breathing a subtle and restrained devotion, more appealing than anything +more open. And Cicely seemed to see Nelly yielding--unconsciously; +unconsciously 'spoilt,' and learning to depend on the 'spoiler.' Why did +Hester seem so anxious always about Farrell's influence with Nelly--so +ready to ward him off, if she could? For after all, thought Cicely, +easily, however long it might take for Nelly to recover her hold on +life, and to clear up the legal situation, there could be but one end of +it. Willy meant to marry this little woman; and in the long run no woman +would be able to resist him. + + * * * * * + +The friends set out to stroll homewards through the long May evening, +talking of the hideous Irish news--how incredible amid the young +splendour of the Westmorland May!--or of the progress of the war. + +Meanwhile Bridget Cookson was walking to meet them from the Rydal end of +the Lake. She was accompanied by a Manchester friend, a young doctor, +Howson by name, who had known the sisters before Nelly's marriage. He +had come to Ambleside in charge of a patient that morning, and was going +back on the morrow, and then to France. Bridget had stumbled on him in +Ambleside, and finding he had a free evening had invited him to come +and sup with them. And a vivid recollection of Nelly Cookson as a girl +had induced him to accept. He had been present indeed at the Sarratt +wedding, and could never forget Nelly as a bride, the jessamine wreath +above her dark eyes, and all the exquisite shapeliness of her slight +form, in the white childish dress of fine Indian muslin, which seemed to +him the prettiest bridal garment he had ever seen. And now--poor little +soul! + +'You think she still hopes?' + +Bridget shrugged her shoulders. + +'She says so. But she has put on mourning at last--a few weeks ago.' + +'People do turn up, you know,' said the doctor musing. 'There have been +some wonderful stories.' + +'They don't turn up now,' said Bridget positively--'now that the +enquiries are done properly.' + +'Oh, the Germans are pretty casual--and the hospital returns are far +from complete, I hear. However the probabilities, no doubt, are all on +the side of death.' + +'The War Office are certain of it,' said Bridget with emphasis. 'But +it's no good trying to persuade her. I don't try.' + +'No, why should you? Poor thing! Well, I'm off to X---- next week,' said +the young man. 'I shall keep my eyes open there, in case anything about +him should turn up.' + +Bridget frowned slightly, and her face flushed. + +'Should you know him again, if you saw him?' she asked, abruptly. + +'I think so,' said the doctor with slight hesitation, 'I remember him +very well at the wedding. Tall and slight?--not handsome exactly, but a +good-looking gentlemanly chap? Oh yes, I remember him. But of course, to +be alive now, if by some miraculous chance he were alive, and +not to have let you know--why he must have had some brain +mischief--paralysis--or----' + +'He isn't alive!' said Bridget impatiently. 'The War Office have no +doubts whatever.' + +Howson was rather surprised at the sudden acerbity of her tone. But his +momentary impression was immediately lost in the interest roused in him +by the emergence from the wood, in front, of Nelly and Cicely. He was a +warm-hearted fellow, himself just married, and the approach of the +black-veiled figure, which he had last seen in bridal white, touched him +like an incident in a play. + +Nelly recognised him from a short distance, and went a little pale. + +'Who is that with your sister?' asked Cicely. + +'It is a man we knew in Manchester,--Doctor Howson.' + +'Did you expect him?' + +'Oh no.' After a minute she added--'He was at our wedding. I haven't +seen him since.' + +Cicely was sorry for her. But when the walkers met, Nelly greeted the +young man very quietly. He himself was evidently moved. He held her +hand a little, and gave her a quick, scrutinising look. Then he moved on +beside her, and Cicely, in order to give Nelly the opportunity of +talking to him for which she evidently wished, was forced to carry off +Bridget, and endure her company patiently all the way home. + +When Nelly and the doctor arrived, following close on the two in front, +Cicely cried out that Nelly must go and lie down at once till supper. +She looked indeed a deplorable little wraith; and the doctor, casting, +again, a professional eye on her, backed up Cicely. + +Nelly smiled, resisted, and finally disappeared. + +'You'll have to take care of her,' said Howson to Bridget. 'She looks to +me as if she couldn't stand any strain.' + +'Well, she's not going to have any. This place is quiet enough! She's +been talking of munition-work, but of course we didn't let her.' + +Cicely took the young man aside and expounded her brother's plan of the +farm on the western side of Loughrigg. Howson asked questions about its +aspect, and general comfort, giving his approval in the end. + +'Oh, she'll pull through,' he said kindly, 'but she must go slow. This +kind of loss is harder to bear--physically--than death straight out. +I've promised her'--he turned to Bridget--'to make all the enquiries I +can. She asked me that at once.' + +After supper, just as Howson was departing, Farrell appeared, having +driven himself over through the long May evening, ostensibly to take +Cicely home, but really for the joy of an hour in Nelly's company. + +He sat beside her in the garden, after Howson's departure, reading to +her, by the lingering light, the poems of a great friend of his who had +been killed at Gallipoli. Nelly was knitting, but her needles were often +laid upon her knee, while she listened with all her mind, and sometimes +with tears in her eyes, that were hidden by the softly dropping dusk. +She said little, but what she did say came now from a greatly +intensified inner life, and a sharpened intelligence; while all the +time, the charm that belonged to her physical self, her voice, her +movements, was at work on Farrell, so that he felt his hour with her a +delight after his hard day's work. And she too rested in his presence, +and his friendship. It was not possible now for her to rebuff him, to +refuse his care. She had tried, tried honestly, as Cicely saw, to live +independently--to 'endure hardness.' And the attempt had broken down. +The strange, protesting feeling, too, that she was doing some wrong to +George by accepting it was passing away. She was George's, she would +always be his, to her dying day; but to live without being loved, to +tear herself from those who wished to love her--for that she had proved +too weak. She knew it, and was not unconscious of a certain moral +defeat; as she looked out upon all the strenuous and splendid things +that women were doing in the war. + + * * * * * + +Farrell and Cicely sped homeward through a night that was all but day. +Cicely scarcely spoke; she was thinking of Marsworth. Farrell had still +in his veins the sweetness of Nelly's presence. But there were other +thoughts too in his mind, the natural thoughts of an Englishman at war. +Once, over their heads, through the luminous northern sky, there passed +an aeroplane flying south-west high above the fells. Was it coming from +the North Sea, from the neighbourhood of that invincible Fleet, on which +all hung, by which all was sustained? He thought of the great ships, and +the men commanding them, as greyhounds straining in the leash. What +touch of fate would let them loose at last? + +The Carton hospital was now full of men fresh from the front. The +casualties were endless. A thousand a night often along the French +front--and yet no real advance. The far-flung battle was practically at +a stand-still. And beyond, the chaos in the Balkans, the Serbian +débacle! No--the world was full of lamentation, mourning and woe; and +who could tell how Armageddon would turn? His quick mind travelled +through all the alternative possibilities ahead, on fire for his +country. But always, after each digression through the problems of the +war, thought came back to the cottage at Rydal, and Nelly on the lawn, +her white throat emerging from the thin black dress, her hands clasped +on her lap, her eyes turned to him as he read. + +And all the time it was _just_ conceivable that Sarratt might still be +discovered. At that thought, the summer night darkened. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +In the summer of 1916, a dark and miserable June, all chilly showers and +lowering clouds, followed on the short-lived joys of May. But all +through it, still more through the early weeks of July, the spiritual +heaven for English hearts was brightening. In June, two months before +she was expected to move, Russia flung herself on the Eastern front of +the enemy. Brussiloff's victorious advance drove great wedges into the +German line, and the effect on that marvellous six months' battle, which +we foolishly call the Siege of Verdun, was soon to be seen. Hard pressed +they were, those heroes of Verdun!--how hard pressed no one in England +knew outside the War Office and the Cabinet, till the worst was over, +and the Crown Prince, 'with his dead and his shame,' had recoiled in +sullen defeat from the prey that need fear him no more. + +Then on the first of July, the British army, after a bombardment the +like of which had never yet been seen in war, leapt from its trenches on +the Somme front, and England held her breath while her new Armies proved +of what stuff they were made. In those great days 'there were no +stragglers--none!' said an eye-witness in amazement. The incredible +became everywhere the common and the achieved. Life was laid down as at +a festival. 'From your happy son'--wrote a boy, as a heading to his last +letter on this earth. + +And by the end of July the sun was ablaze again on the English fields +and harvests. Days of amazing beauty followed each other amid the +Westmorland fells; with nights of moonlight on sleeping lakes, and +murmuring becks; or nights of starlit dark, with that mysterious glow in +the north-west which in the northern valleys so often links the evening +with the dawn. + +How often through these nights Nelly Sarratt lay awake, in her new white +room in Mountain Ash Farm!--the broad low window beside her open to the +night, to that 'Venus's Looking Glass' of Loughrigg Tarn below her, and +to the great heights beyond, now dissolving under the moon-magic, now +rosy with dawn, and now wreathed in the floating cloud which crept in +light and silver along the purple of the crags. To have been lifted to +this height above valley and stream, had raised and strengthened her, +soul and body, as Farrell and Hester had hoped. Her soul, perhaps, +rather than her body; for she was still the frailest of creatures, +without visible ill, and yet awakening in every quick-eyed spectator the +same misgiving as in the Manchester doctor. But she was calmer, less +apparently absorbed in her own grief; though only, perhaps, the more +accessible to the world misery of the war. In these restless nights, +her remarkable visualising power, which had only thriven, it seemed, +upon the flagging of youth and health, carried her through a series of +waking dreams, almost always concerned with the war. Under the stimulus +of Farrell's intelligence, she had become a close student of the war. +She read much, and what she read, his living contact with men and +affairs--with that endless stream of wounded in particular, which passed +through the Carton hospital--and his graphic talk illumined for her. +Then in the night arose the train of visions; the trenches--always the +trenches; those hideous broken woods of the Somme front, where the +blasted soil has sucked the best life-blood of England; those +labyrinthine diggings and delvings in a tortured earth, made for the +Huntings of Death--'Death that lays man at his length'--for panting +pursuit, and breathless flight, and the last crashing horror of the +bomb, in some hell-darkness at the end of all:--these haunted her. Or +she saw visions of men swinging from peak to peak above fathomless +depths of ice and snow on the Italian front; climbing precipices where +the foot holds by miracle, and where not only men but guns must go; or +vanishing, whole lines of them, awfully forgotten in the winter snows, +to reappear a frozen and ghastly host, with the melting of the spring. + +And always, mingled with everything, in the tense night hours--that +slender khaki figure, tearing the leaf from his sketch-book, leaping +over the parados,--falling--in the No Man's Land. But, by day, the +obsession of it now often left her. + +It was impossible not to enjoy her new home. Farrell had taken an old +Westmorland farm, with its white-washed porch, its small-paned windows +outlined in white on the grey walls, its low raftered rooms, and with a +few washes of colour--pure blue, white, daffodil yellow--had made all +bright within, to match the bright spaces of air and light without. +There was some Westmorland oak, some low chairs, a sofa and a piano from +the old Manchester house, some etchings and drawings, hung on the plain +walls by Farrell himself, with the most fastidious care; and a few--a +very few things--from his own best stores, which Hester allowed him to +'house' with Nelly from time to time--picture, or pot, or tapestry. She +played watch-dog steadily, not resented by Farrell, and unsuspected by +Nelly. Her one aim was that the stream of Nelly's frail life should not +be muddied by any vile gossip; and she achieved it. The few neighbours +who had made acquaintance with 'little Mrs. Sarratt' had, all of them +been tacitly, nay eagerly willing, to take their cue from Hester. To be +vouched for by Hester Martin, the 'wise woman' and saint of a +country-side, was enough. It was understood that the poor little widow +had been commended to the care of William Farrell and his sister, by the +young husband whose gallant death was officially presumed by the War +Office. Of course, Mrs. Sarratt, poor child, believed that he was still +alive--that was so natural! But that hope would die down in time. And +then--anything might happen! + +Meanwhile, elderly husbands--the sole male inhabitants left in the +gentry houses of the district--who possessed any legal knowledge, +informed their wives that no one could legally presume the death of a +vanished husband, under seven years, unless indeed they happen to have a +Scotch domicile, in which case two years was enough. _Seven +years_!--preposterous!--in time of war, said the wives. To which the +husbands would easily reply that, in such cases as Mrs. Sarratt's, the +law indeed might be 'an ass,' but there were ways round it. Mrs. Sarratt +might re-marry, and no one could object, or would object. Only--if +Sarratt did rise from the dead, the second marriage would be _ipso +facto_ null and void. But as Sarratt was clearly dead, what did that +matter? + +So that the situation, though an observed one--for how could the Farrell +comings and goings, the Farrell courtesies and benefactions, possibly be +hid?--was watched only by friendly and discreet eyes, thanks always to +Hester. Most people liked William Farrell; even that stricter sect, who +before the war had regarded him as a pleasure loving dilettante, and had +been often scandalised by his careless levity in the matter of his +duties as a landlord and county magnate. 'Bill Farrell' had never indeed +evicted or dealt hardly with any mortal tenant. He had merely neglected +and ignored them; had cared not a brass farthing about the rates which +he or they, paid--why should he indeed, when he was so abominably rich +from other sources than land?--nothing about improving their cows, or +sheep or pigs; nothing about 'intensive culture,' or jam or poultry, or +any of the other fads with which the persons who don't farm plague the +persons who do; while the very mention of a public meeting, or any sort +of public duty, put him to instant flight. Yet even the faddists met him +with pleasure, and parted from him with regret. He took himself 'so +jolly lightly'; you couldn't expect him to take other people seriously. +Meanwhile, his genial cheery manner made him a general favourite, and +his splendid presence, combined with his possessions and his descent, +was universally accepted as a kind of Cumberland asset, to which other +counties could hardly lay claim. If he wanted the little widow, why +certainly, let him have her! It was magnificent what he had done for his +hospital; when nobody before the war had thought him capable of a stroke +of practical work. Real good fellow, Farrell! Let him go in and win. His +devotion, and poor Nelly's beauty, only infused a welcome local element +of romance into the ever-darkening scene of war. + + * * * * * + +The first anniversary of Sarratt's disappearance was over. Nelly had +gone through it quite alone. Bridget was in London, and Nelly had said +to Cicely--'Don't come for a few days--nor Sir William--please! I +shall be all right.' + +They obeyed her, and she spent her few days partly on the fells, and +partly in endless knitting and sewing for a war-workroom recently +started in her immediate neighbourhood. The emotion to which she +surrendered herself would soon reduce her to a dull vacancy; and then +she would sit passive, not forcing herself to think, alone in the old +raftered room, or in the bit of garden outside, with its phloxes and +golden rods; her small fingers working endlessly--till the wave of +feeling and memory returned upon her. Those few days were a kind of +'retreat,' during which she lived absorbed in the recollections of her +short, married life, and, above all, in which she tried piteously and +bravely to make clear to herself what she believed; what sort of faith +was in her for the present and the future. It often seemed to her that +during the year since George's death, her mind had been wrenched and +hammered into another shape. It had grown so much older, she scarcely +knew it herself. Doubts she had never known before had come to her; but +also, intermittently, a much keener faith. Oh, yes, she believed in God. +She must; not only because George had believed in Him, but also because +she, her very self, had been conscious, again and again, in the night +hours, or on the mountains, of ineffable upliftings and communings, of +flashes through the veil of things. And so there must be another world; +because the God she guessed at thus, with sudden adoring insight, could +not have made her George, only to destroy him; only to give her to him +for a month, and then strike him from her for ever. The books she learnt +to know through Farrell, belonging to that central modern literature, +which is so wholly sceptical that the 'great argument' itself has almost +lost interest for those who are producing it, often bewildered her, but +did not really affect her. Religion--a vague, but deeply-felt +religion--soothed and sheltered her. But she did not want to talk about +it. + +After these days were over, she emerged conscious of some radical +change. She seemed to have been walking with George 'on the other side,' +and to have left him there--for a while. She now really believed him +dead, and that she had got to live her life without him. This first full +and sincere admission of her loss tranquillised her. All the more reason +now that she should turn to the dear friendships that life still held, +should live in and for them, and follow where they led, through the +years before her. Farrell, Cicely, Hester--they stood between her +weakness--oh how conscious, how scornfully conscious, she was of +it!--and sheer desolation. Cicely, 'Willy,'--for somehow she and he had +slipped almost without knowing it into Christian names--had become to +her as brother and sister. And Hester too--so strong!--so kind!--was +part of her life; severe sometimes, but bracing. Nelly was conscious, +indeed, occasionally, that something in Hester disapproved something in +her. 'But it would be all right,' she thought, wearily, 'if only I were +stronger.' Did she mean physically or morally? The girl's thought did +not distinguish. + +'I believe you want me "hatched over again and hatched different"!' she +said one evening to Hester, as she laid her volume of 'Adam Bede' aside. + +'Do I ever say so?' + +'No--but--if you were me--you wouldn't stop here moping!' said Nelly, +with sudden passion. 'You'd strike out--do something!' + +'With these hands?' said Hester, raising one of them, and looking at it +pitifully. 'My dear--does Bridget feed you properly?' + +'I don't know. I never think about it. She settles it.' + +'Why do you let her settle it?' + +'She will!' cried Nelly, sitting upright in her chair, her eyes bright +and cheeks flushing, as though something in Hester's words accused her. +'I couldn't stop her!' + +'Well, but when she's away?' + +'Then Mrs. Rowe settles it,' said Nelly, half laughing. 'I never +enquire. What does it matter?' + +She put down her knitting, and her wide, sad eyes followed the clouds as +they covered the purple breast of the Langdales, which rose in +threatening, thunder light, beyond the steely tarn in front. Hester +watched her anxiously. How lovely was the brown head, with its short +curls enclosing the delicate oval of the face! But Nelly's lack of grip +on life, of any personal demand, of any healthy natural egotism, whether +towards Bridget, or anybody else, was very disquieting to Hester. In +view of the situation which the older woman saw steadily approaching, +how welcome would have been some signs of a greater fighting strength in +the girl's nature! + + * * * * * + +But Nelly had made two friends since the migration to the farm with whom +at any rate she laughed; and that, as Hester admitted, was something. + +One was a neighbouring farmer, an old man, with splendid eyes, under +dark bushy brows, fine ascetic features, grizzled hair, and a habit of +carrying a scythe over his shoulder which gave him the look of 'Old +Father Time,' out for the mowing of men. The other was the little son of +a neighbouring parson, an urchin of eight, who had succumbed to an +innocent passion for the pretty lady at the farm. + +One radiant October afternoon, Nelly carried out a chair and some +sketching things into the garden. But the scheme Farrell had suggested +to her, of making a profession of her drawing, had not come to much. +Whether it was the dying down of hope, and therewith of physical energy, +or whether she had been brought up sharp against the limits of her small +and graceful talent, and comparing herself with Farrell, thought it no +use to go on--in any case, she had lately given it up, except as an +amusement. But there are days when the humblest artist feels the +creative stir; and on this particular afternoon there were colours and +lights abroad on the fells, now dyed red with withering fern, and +overtopped by sunny cloud, that could not be resisted. She put away the +splints she was covering, and spread out her easel. + +And presently, through every bruised and tired sense, as she worked and +worked, the 'Eternal Fountain of that Heavenly Beauty' distilled His +constant balm. She worked on, soothed and happy. + +In a few minutes there was a sound at the gate. A child looked in--black +tumbled hair, dark eyes, a plain but most engaging countenance. + +'I'm tomin in,' he announced, and without any more ado, came in. Nelly +held out a hand and kissed him. + +'You must be very good.' + +'I is good,' said the child, radiantly. + +Nelly spread a rug for him to lie on, and provided him with a piece of +paper, some coloured chalks and a piece of mill board. He turned over on +his front and plunged into drawing-- + +Silence--till Nelly asked-- + +'What are you drawing, Tommy?' + +'Haggans and Hoons,' said a dreamy voice, the voice of one absorbed. + +'I forget'--said Nelly gravely--'which are the good ones?' + +'The Hoons are good. The Haggans are awfully wicked!' said the child, +slashing away at his drawing with bold vindictive strokes. + +'Are you drawing a Haggan, Tommy?' + +'Yes.' + +He held up a monster, half griffin, half crocodile, for her to see, and +she heartily admired it. + +'Where do the Haggans live, Tommy?' + +'In Jupe,' said the child, again drawing busily. + +'You mean Jupiter?' + +'I _don't_!' said Tommy reproachfully, 'I said Jupe, and I mean Jupe. +Perhaps'--he conceded, courteously--'I may have got the idea from that +other place. But it's quite different. You do believe it's quite +different--don't you?' + +'Certainly,' said Nelly. + +'I'm glad of that--because--well, because I can't be friends with people +that say it isn't different. You do see that, don't you?' + +Nelly assured him she perfectly understood, and then Tommy rolled over +on his back, and staring at the sky, began to talk in mysterious tones +of 'Jupe,' and the beings that lived in it, Haggans, and Hoons, lions +and bears, and white mice. His voice grew dreamier and dreamier. Nelly +thought he was asleep, and she suddenly found herself looking at the +little figure on the grass with a passionate hunger. If such a living +creature belonged to her--to call her its very own--to cling to her with +its dear chubby hands! + +She bent forward, her eyes wet, above the unconscious Tommy. But a step +on the road startled her, and raising her head she saw 'Old Father +Time,' with scythe on shoulder, leaning on the little gate which led +from the strip of garden to the road, and looking at her with the +expression which implied a sarcastic view of things in general, and +especially of 'gentlefolk.' But he was favourably inclined to Mrs. +Sarratt, and when Nelly invited him in, he obeyed her, and grounding his +scythe, as though it had been a gun, he stood leaning upon it, +indulgently listening while she congratulated him on a strange incident +which, as she knew from Hester, had lately occurred to him. + +A fortnight before, the old man had received a letter from the captain +of his son's company in France sympathetically announcing to him the +death in hospital of his eldest son, from severe wounds received in a +raid, and assuring him he might feel complete confidence 'that +everything that could be done for your poor boy has been done.' + +The news had brought woe to the cottage where the old man and his wife +lived alone, since the fledging of their sturdy brood, under a spur of +Loughrigg. The wife, being now a feeble body, had taken to her bed under +the shock of grief; the old man had gone to his work as usual, 'nobbut a +bit queerer in his wits,' according to the farmer who employed him. Then +after three days came a hurried letter of apology from the captain, and +a letter from the chaplain, to say there had been a most deplorable +mistake, and 'your son, I am glad to say, was only slightly wounded, +and is doing well!' + +Under so much contradictory emotion, old Backhouse's balance had wavered +a good deal. He received Nelly's remarks with a furtive smile, as though +he were only waiting for her to have done, and when they ceased, he drew +a letter slowly from his pocket. + +'D'ye see that, Mum?' + +Nelly nodded. + +'I'se juist gotten it from t' Post Office. They woant gie ye noothin' +till it's forced oot on 'em. But I goa regular, an to-day owd +Jacob--'at's him as keps t' Post Office--handed it ower. It's from +Donald, sure enoof.' + +He held it up triumphantly. Nelly's heart leapt--and sank. How often in +the first months of her grief had she seen--in visions--that blessed +symbolic letter held up by some ministering hand!--only to fall from the +ecstasy of the dream into blacker depths of pain. + +'Oh, Mr. Backhouse, I'm so glad!' was all she could find to say. But her +sweet trembling face spoke for her. After a pause, she added--'Does he +write with his own hand?' + +'You mun see for yorsel'.' He held it out to her. She looked at it +mystified. + +'But it's not opened!' + +'I hadna juist me spectacles,' said Father Time, cautiously. 'Mebbee +yo'll read it to me.' + +'But it's to his mother!' cried Nelly. 'I can't open your wife's +letter!' + +'You needn't trooble aboot that. You read it, Mum. There'll be noothin' +in it.' + +He made her read it. There was nothing in it. It was just a nice letter +from a good boy, saying that he had been knocked over in 'a bit of a +scrap,' but was nearly all right, and hoped his father and mother were +well, 'as it leaves me at present.' But when it was done, Father Time +took off his hat, bent his grey head, and solemnly thanked his God, in +broad Westmorland. Nelly's eyes swam, as she too bowed the head, +thinking of another who would never come back; and Tommy, thumb in +mouth, leant against her, listening attentively. + +At the end of the thanksgiving however, Backhouse raised his head +briskly. + +'Not that I iver believed that foolish yoong mon as wrote me that Dick +wor dead,' he said, contemptuously. 'Bit it's as weel to git things +clear.' + +Nelly heartily agreed, adding-- + +'I may be going to London next week, Mr. Backhouse. You say your son +will be in the London Hospital. Shall I go and see him?' + +Backhouse looked at her cautiously. + +'I doan't know, Mum. His moother will be goin', likely.' + +'Oh, I don't want to intrude, Mr. Backhouse. But if she doesn't go?' + +'Well, Mum; I will say you've a pleasant coontenance, though yo're not +juist sich a thrivin' body as a'd like to see yer. But theer's mony +people as du more harm nor good by goin' to sit wi' sick foak.' + +Nelly meekly admitted it; and then she suggested that she might be the +bearer of anything Mrs. Backhouse would like to send her son--clothes, +for instance? The old man thawed rapidly, and the three, Nelly, Tommy, +and Father Time, were soon sincerely enjoying each other's society, when +a woman in a grey tweed costume, and black sailor hat, arrived at the +top of a little hill in the road outside the garden, from which the farm +and its surroundings could be seen. + +At the sight of the group in front of the farm, she came to an abrupt +pause, and hidden from them by a projecting corner of wall she surveyed +the scene--Nelly, with Tommy on her knee, and the old labourer who had +just shouldered his scythe again, and was about to go on his way. + +It was Bridget Cookson, who had been to Kendal for the day, and had +walked over from Grasmere, where the char-à -banc, alias the 'Yellow +Peril,' had deposited her. She had passed the Post Office on her way, +and had brought thence a letter which she held in her hand. Her face was +pale and excited. She stood thinking; her eyes on Nelly, her lips moving +as though she were rehearsing some speech or argument. + +Then when she had watched old Backkhouse make his farewell, and turn +towards the gate, she hastily opened a black silk bag hanging from her +wrist, and thrust the letter into it. + +After which she walked on, meeting the old man in the lane, and run into +by Tommy, who, head foremost, was rushing home to shew his glorious +Haggan to his 'mummy.' + +Nelly's face at sight of her sister stiffened insensibly. + +'Aren't you very tired, Bridget? Have you walked all the way? Yes, you +_do_ look tired! Have you had tea?' + +'Yes, at Windermere.' + +Bridget cleared the chair on which Nelly had placed her paint-box, and +sat down. She was silent a little and then said abruptly-- + +'It's a horrid bore, I shall have to go to London again.' + +'Again?' Nelly's look of surprise was natural. Bridget had returned from +another long stay in the Bloomsbury boarding-house early in October, and +it was now only the middle of the month. But Bridget's doings were +always a great mystery to Nelly. She was translating something from the +Spanish--that was all Nelly knew--and also, that when an offer had been +made to her through a friend, of some translating work for the Foreign +Office, she had angrily refused it. She would not, she said, be a slave +to any public office. + +'Won't it be awfully expensive?' said Nelly after a pause, as Bridget +did not answer. The younger sister was putting her painting things +away, and making ready to go in. For though the day had been wonderfully +warm for October, the sun had just set over Bowfell, and the air had +grown suddenly chilly. + +'Well, I can't help it,' said Bridget, rather roughly. 'I shall have to +go.' + +Something in her voice made Nelly look at her. + +'I say you _are_ tired! Come in and lie down a little. That walk from +Grasmere's too much for you!' + +Bridget submitted with most unusual docility. + +The sisters entered the house together. + +'I'll go upstairs for a little,' said Bridget. 'I shall be all right by +supper.' Then, as she slowly mounted the stairs, a rather gaunt and +dragged figure in her dress of grey alpaca, she turned to say-- + +'I met Sir William on the road just now. He passed me in the car, and +waved his hand. He called out something--I couldn't hear it.' + +'Perhaps to say he would come to supper,' said Nelly, her face +brightening. 'I'll go and see what there is.' + +Bridget went upstairs. Her small raftered room was invaded by the last +stormy light of the autumn evening. The open casement window admitted a +cold wind. Bridget shut it, with a shiver. But instead of lying down, +she took a chair by the window, absently removed her hat, and sat there +thinking. The coppery light from the west illumined her face with its +strong discontented lines, and her hands, which were large, but white +and shapely--a source indeed of personal pride to their owner. + +Presently, in the midst of her reverie, she heard a step outside, and +saw Sir William Farrell approaching the gate. Nelly, wrapped in a white +shawl, was still strolling about the garden, and Bridget watched their +meeting--Nelly's soft and smiling welcome, and Farrell's eagerness, his +evident joy in finding her alone. + +'And she just wilfully blinds herself!' thought Bridget +contemptuously--'talks about his being a brother to her, and that sort +of nonsense. He's in love with her!--of course he's in love with her. +And as for Nelly--she's not in love with him. But she's getting used to +him; she depends on him. When he's not there she misses him. She's +awfully glad to see him when he comes. Perhaps, it'll take a month or +two. I give it a month or two--perhaps six months--perhaps a year. And +then she'll marry him--and--' + +Here her thoughts became rather more vague and confused. They were +compounded of a fierce impatience with the war, and of certain urgent +wishes and ambitions, which had taken possession of a strong and +unscrupulous character. She wanted to travel. She wanted to see the +world, and not to be bothered by having to think of money. Contact with +very rich people, like the Farrells, and the constant spectacle of what +an added range and power is given to the human will by money, had +turned the dull discontent of her youth into an active fever of desire. +She had no illusions about herself at all. She was already a plain and +unattractive old maid. Nobody would want to marry her; and she did not +want to marry anybody. But she wanted to _do_ things and to _see_ +things, when the hateful war was over. She was full of curiosities about +life and the world, that were rather masculine than feminine. Her +education, though it was still patchy and shallow, had been advancing +since Nelly's marriage, and her intelligence was hungry. The +satisfaction of it seemed too to promise her the only real pleasures to +which she could look forward in life. On the wall of her bedroom were +hanging photographs of Rome, Athens, the East. She dreamt of a wandering +existence; she felt that she would be insatiable of movement, of +experience, if the chance were given her. + +But how could one travel, or buy books, or make new acquaintances, +without money?--something more at any rate than the pittance on which +she and Nelly subsisted. + +What was it Sir William was supposed to have, by way of income?--thirty +thousand a year? Well, he wouldn't always be spending it on his +hospital, and War income tax, and all the other horrible burdens of the +time. If Nelly married him, she would have an ample margin to play with; +and to do Nelly justice, she was always open-handed, always ready to +give away. She would hand over her own small portion to her sister, and +add something to it. With six or seven hundred a year, Bridget would be +mistress of her own fate, and of the future. Often, lately, in waking +moments of the night, she had felt a sudden glow of exultation, thinking +what she could do with such a sum. The world seemed to open out on all +sides--offering her new excitements, new paths to tread in. She wanted +no companion, to hamper her with differing tastes and wishes. She would +be quite sufficient to herself. + +The garden outside grew dark. She heard Farrell say 'It's too cold for +you--you must come in,' and she watched Nelly enter the house in front +of him--turning her head back to answer something he said to her. Even +through the dusk Bridget was conscious of her sister's beauty. She did +not envy it in the least. It was Nelly's capital--Nelly's opportunity. +Let her use it for them both. Bridget would be well satisfied to gather +up the crumbs from her rich sister's table. + +Then from the dream, she came back with chill and desperation--to +reality. The letter in her pocket--the journey before her--she pondered +alternatives. What was she to do in this case--or in that? Everything +might be at stake--everything was at stake--her life and Nelly's-- + +The voices from the parlour below came up to her. She heard the +crackling of a newly lighted fire--Farrell reading aloud--and Nelly's +gentle laughter. She pictured the scene; the two on either side of the +fire, with Nelly's mourning, her plain widow's dress, as the symbol--in +Nelly's eyes--of what divided her from Farrell, or any other suitor, and +made it possible to be his friend without fear. Bridget knew that Nelly +so regarded it. But that of course was just Nelly's foolish way of +looking at things. It was only a question of time. + +And meanwhile the widow's dress had quite other meanings for Bridget. +She pondered long in the dark, till the supper bell rang. + +At supper, her silence embarrassed and infected her companions, and +Farrell, finding it impossible to get another tête-à -tête with Nelly, +took his leave early. He must be up almost with the dawn so as to get to +Carton by nine o'clock. + + * * * * * + +Out of a stormy heaven the moon was breaking as he walked back to his +cottage. The solitude of the mountain ways, the freshness of the +rain-washed air, and the sweetness of his hour with Nelly, after the +bustle of the week, the arrivals and departures, the endless business, +of a great hospital:--he was conscious of them all, intensely conscious, +as parts of a single, delightful whole to which he had looked forward +for days. And yet he was restless and far from happy. He wandered about +the mountain roads for a long time--watching the moon as it rose above +the sharp steep of Loughrigg and sent long streamers of light down the +Elterwater valley, and up the great knees of the Pikes. The owls hooted +in the oak-woods, and the sound of water--the Brathay rushing over the +Skelwith rocks, and all the little becks in fell and field, near and +far--murmured through the night air, and made earth-music to the fells. +Farrell had much of the poet in him; and the mountains and their life +were dear to him. But he was rapidly passing into the stage when a man +over-mastered by his personal desires is no longer open to the soothing +of nature. He had recently had a long and confidential talk with his +lawyer at Carlisle, who was also his friend, and had informed himself +minutely about the state of the law. Seven years!--unless, of her own +free will, she took the infinitesimal risk of marriage before the period +was up. + +But he despaired of her doing any such thing. He recognised fully that +the intimacy she allowed him, her sweet openness and confidingness, were +all conditioned by what she regarded as the fixed points in her life; by +her widowhood, legal and spiritual, and by her tacit reliance on his +recognition of the fact that she was set apart, bound as other widows +were not bound, protected by the very mystery of Sarratt's fate, from +any thought of re-marriage. + +And he!--all the time the strength of a man's maturest passion was +mounting in his veins. And with it a foreboding--coming he knew not +whence--like the sudden shadow that, as he looked, blotted out the +moonlight on the shining bends and loops of the Brathay, where it +wandered through the Elterwater fields. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Bridget Cookson slowly signed her name to the letter she had been +writing in the drawing-room of the boarding-house where she was +accustomed to stay during her visits to town. Then she read the letter +through-- + +'I can't get back till the middle or end of next week at least. There's +been a great deal to do, of one kind or another. And I'm going down to +Woking to-morrow to spend the week-end with a girl I met here who's +knocked up in munition-work. Don't expect me till you see me. But I +daresay I shan't be later than Friday.' + +Bridget Cookson had never yet arrived at telling falsehoods for the mere +pleasure of it. On the whole she preferred not to tell them. But she was +well aware that her letter to Nelly contained a good many, both +expressed and implied. + +Well, that couldn't be helped. She put up her letter, and then proceeded +to look carefully through the contents of her handbag. Yes, her passport +was all right, and her purse with its supply of notes. Also the letter +that she was to present to the Base Commandant, or the Red Cross +representative at the port of landing. The latter had been left open for +her to read. It was signed 'Ernest Howson, M.D.,' and asked that Miss +Bridget Cookson might be sent forward to No. 102, General Hospital, X +Camp, France, as quickly as possible. + +There was also another letter addressed to herself in the same +handwriting. She opened it and glanced through it-- + +'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I think I have made everything as easy for you as I +can on this side. You won't have any difficulty. I'm awfully glad you're +coming. I myself am much puzzled, and don't know what to think. Anyway I +am quite clear that my right course was to communicate with +you--_first._ Everything will depend on what you say.' + +The following afternoon, Bridget found herself, with a large party of +V.A.D.'s, and other persons connected with the Red Cross, on board a +Channel steamer. The day was grey and cold, and Bridget having tied on +her life-belt, and wrapped herself in her thickest cloak, found a seat +in the shelter of the deck cabins whence the choppy sea, the destroyer +hovering round them, and presently the coast of France were visible. A +secret excitement filled her. What was she going to see? and what was +she going to do? All round her too were the suggestions of war, +commonplace and familiar by now to half the nation, but not to Bridget +who had done her best to forget the war. The steamer deck was crowded +with officers returning from leave who were walking up and down, all of +them in life-belts, chatting and smoking. All eyes were watchful of the +sea, and the destroyer; and the latest submarine gossip passed from +mouth to mouth. The V.A.D.'s with a few army nurses, kept each other +company on the stern deck. The mild sea gave no one any excuse for +discomfort, and the pleasant-faced rosy girls in their becoming +uniforms, laughed and gossiped with each other, though not without a +good many side glances towards the khaki figures pacing the deck, many +of them specimens of English youth at its best. + +Bridget however took little notice of them. She was becoming more and +more absorbed in her own problem. She had not in truth made up her mind +how to deal with it, and she admitted reluctantly that she would have to +be guided by circumstance. Midway across, when the French coast and its +lighthouses were well in view, she took out the same letter which she +had received two days before at the Grasmere post-office, and again read +it through. + +'X Camp, 102, General Hospital. + + +'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I am writing to _you_, in the first instance +instead of to Mrs. Sarratt, because I have a vivid remembrance of what +seemed to me your sister's frail physical state, when I saw you last May +at Rydal. I hope she is much stronger, but I don't want to risk what, if +it ended in disappointment, might only be a terrible strain upon her to +no purpose--so I am preparing the way by writing to you. + +'The fact is I want you to come over to France--at once. Can you get +away, without alarming your sister, or letting her, really, know +anything about it? It is the merest, barest chance, but I think there is +just a chance, that a man who is now in hospital here _may_ be poor +George Sarratt--only don't build upon it yet, _please_. The case was +sent on here from one of the hospitals near the Belgian frontier about a +month ago, in order that a famous nerve-specialist, who has joined us +here for a time, might give his opinion on it. It is a most +extraordinary story. I understand from the surgeon who wrote to our +Commandant, that one night, about three months ago, two men, in German +uniforms, were observed from the British front-line trench, creeping +over the No Man's Land lying between the lines at a point somewhere east +of Dixmude. One man, who threw up his hands, was dragging the other, who +seemed wounded. It was thought that they were deserters, and a couple of +men were sent out to bring them in. Just as they were being helped into +our trench, however, one of them was hit by an enemy sniper and mortally +wounded. Then it was discovered that they were not Germans at all. The +man who had been hit said a few incoherent things about his wife and +children in the Walloon patois as he lay in the trench, and trying to +point to his companion, uttered the one word "Anglais"--that, everyone +swears to--and died. No papers were found on either of them, and when +the other man was questioned, he merely shook his head, with a vacant +look. Various tests were applied to him, but it was soon clear, both +that he was dumb--and deaf--from nerve shock, probably--and that he was +in a terrible physical state. He had been severely wounded--apparently +many months before--in the shoulder and thigh. The wounds had evidently +been shockingly neglected, and were still septic. The surgeon who +examined him thought that what with exposure, lack of food, and his +injuries, it was hardly probable he would live more than a few weeks. +However, he has lingered till now, and the specialist I spoke of has +just seen him. + +'As to identification marks there were none. But you'll hear all about +that when you come. All I can say is that, as soon as they got the man +into hospital, the nurses and surgeons became convinced that he _was_ +English, and that in addition to his wounds, it was a case of severe +shell-shock--acute and long-continued neurasthenia properly +speaking,--loss of memory, and all the rest of it. + +'Of course the chances of this poor fellow being George Sarratt are +infinitesimal--I must warn you as to that. How account for the interval +between September 1915 and June 1916--for his dress, his companion--for +their getting through the German lines? + +'However, directly I set eyes on this man, which was the week after I +arrived here, I began to feel puzzled about him. He reminded me of +someone--but of whom I couldn't remember. Then one afternoon it suddenly +flashed upon me--and for the moment I felt almost sure that I was +looking at George Sarratt. Then, of course, I began to doubt again. I +have tried--under the advice of the specialist I spoke of--all kinds of +devices for getting into some kind of communication with him. Sometimes +the veil between him and those about him seems to thin a little, and one +makes attempts--hypnotism, suggestion, and so forth. But so far, quite +in vain. He has, however, one peculiarity which I may mention. His hands +are long and rather powerful. But the little fingers are both +crooked--markedly so. I wonder if you ever noticed Sarratt's hands? +However, I won't write more now. You will understand, I am sure, that I +shouldn't urge you to come, unless I thought it seriously worth your +while. On the other hand, I cannot bear to excite hopes which may--which +probably will--come to nothing. All I can feel certain of is that it is +my duty to write, and I expect that you will feel that it is your duty +to come. + +'I send you the address of a man at the War Office--high up in the +R.A.M.C.--to whom I have already written. He will, I am sure, do all he +can to help you get out quickly. Whoever he is, the poor fellow here is +very ill.' + + * * * * * + +The steamer glided up the dock of the French harbour. The dusk had +fallen, but Bridget was conscious of a misty town dimly sprinkled with +lights, and crowned with a domed church; of chalk downs, white and +ghostly, to right and left; and close by, of quays crowded with +soldiers, motors, and officials. Carrying her small suit-case, she +emerged upon the quay, and almost immediately was accosted by the +official of the Red Cross who had been told off to look after her. + +'Let me carry your suit-case. There is a motor here, which will take you +to X----. There will be two nurses going with you.' + +Up the long hill leading southwards out of the town, sped the motor, +stopping once to show its pass to the sentries--khaki and grey, on +either side of the road, and so on into the open country, where an +autumn mist lay over the uplands, beneath a faintly starlit sky. Soon it +was quite dark. Bridget listened vaguely to the half-whispered talk of +the nurses opposite, who were young probationers going back to work +after a holiday, full of spirits and merry gossip about 'Matron' and +'Sister,' and their favourite surgeons. Bridget was quite silent. +Everything was strange and dreamlike. Yet she was sharply conscious that +she was nearing--perhaps--some great experience, some act--some +decision--which she would have to make for herself, with no one to +advise her. Well, she had never been a great hand at asking advice. +People must decide things for themselves. + +She wondered whether they would let her see 'the man' that same night. +Hardly--unless he were worse--in danger. Otherwise, they would be sure +to think it better for her to see him first in daylight. She too would +be glad to have a night's rest before the interview. She had a curiously +bruised and battered feeling, as of someone who had been going through +an evil experience. + +Pale stretches of what seemed like water to the right, and across it a +lighthouse. And now to the left, a sudden spectacle of lines of light in +a great semicircle radiating up the side of a hill. + +The nurses exclaimed-- + +'There's the Camp! Isn't it pretty at night?' + +The officer sitting in front beside the driver turned to ask-- + +'Where shall I put you down?' + +'Number----' said both the maidens in concert. The elderly major in +khaki--who in peace-time was the leading doctor of a Shropshire country +town--could not help smiling at the two lassies, and their bright looks. + +'You don't seem particularly sorry to come back!' he said. + +'Oh, we're tired of holidays,' said the taller of the two, with a laugh. +'People at home think they're _so_ busy, and---' + +'You think they're doing nothing?' + +'Well, it don't seem much, when you've been out here!' said the girl +more gravely--'and when you know what there is to do!' + +'Aye, aye,' said the man in front. 'We could do with hundreds more of +your sort. Hope you preached to your friends.' + +'We did!' said both, each with the same young steady voice. + +'Here we are--Stop, please.' + +For the motor had turned aside to climb the hill into the semicircle. On +all sides now were rows of low buildings--hospital huts--hospital +marquees--stores--canteens. Close to the motor, as it came to a +stand-still, the door of a great marquee stood open, and Bridget could +see within, a lighted hospital ward, with rows of beds, men in scarlet +bed-jackets, sitting or lying on them--flowers--nurses moving about. The +scene was like some bright and delicate illumination on the dark. + +'I shall have to take you a bit further on,' said the major to Bridget, +as the two young nurses waved farewell. 'We've got a room in the hotel +for you. And Dr. Howson will come for you in the morning. He thought +that would be more satisfactory both for you and the patient than that +you should go to the hospital to-night.' + +Bridget acquiesced, with a strong sense of relief. And presently the +camp and its lights were all left behind again, and the motor was +rushing on, first through a dark town, and then through woods--pine +woods--as far as the faint remaining light enabled her to see, till dim +shapes of houses, and scattered lamps began again to appear, and the +motor drew up. + +'Well, you'll find a bed here, and some food,' said the major as he +handed her out. 'Can't promise much. It's a funny little place, but +they don't look after you badly.' + +They entered one of the small seaside hotels of the cheaper sort which +abound in French watering-places, where the walls of the tiny rooms seem +to be made of brown paper, and everyone is living in their neighbour's +pocket. But a pleasant young woman came forward to take Bridget's bag. + +'Mademoiselle Cook--Cookson?' she said interrogatively. 'I have a letter +for Mademoiselle. Du médecin,' she added, addressing the major. + +'Ah?' That gentleman put down Bridget's bag in the little hall, and +stood attentive. Bridget opened the letter--a very few words--and read +it with an exclamation. + + 'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I am awfully sorry not + to meet you to-night, and at the hospital to-morrow. + But I am sent for to Bailleul. My only brother + has been terribly wounded--they think fatally--in a + bombing attack last night. I am going up at once--there + is no help for it. One of my colleagues, Dr. + Vincent, will take you to the hospital and will tell me + your opinion. In haste.--Yours sincerely, + + + 'ERNEST HOWSON.' + +'H'm, a great pity!' said the major, as she handed the note to him. +'Howson has taken a tremendous interest in the case. But Vincent is next +best. Not the same thing perhaps--but still--Of course the whole +medical staff here has been interested in it. It has some extraordinary +features. You I think have had a brother-in-law "missing" for some +time?' + +He had piloted her into the bare _salle à manger_, where two young +officers, with a party of newly-arrived V.A.D.'s were having dinner, and +where through an open window came in the dull sound of waves breaking on +a sandy shore. + +'My brother-in-law has been missing since the battle of Loos,' said +Bridget--'more than a year. We none of us believe that he can be alive. +But of course when Dr. Howson wrote to me, I came at once.' + +'Has he a wife?' + +'Yes, but she is very delicate. That is why Dr. Howson wrote to me. If +there were any chance--of course we must send for her. But I shall +know--I shall know at once.' + +'I suppose you will--yes, I suppose you will,' mused the major. 'Though +of course a man is terribly aged by such an experience. He's +English--that we're certain of. He often seems to understand--half +understand--a written phrase or word in English. And he is certainly a +man of refinement. All his personal ways--all that is instinctive and +automatic--the subliminal consciousness, so to speak--seems to be that +of a gentleman. But it is impossible to get any response out of him, for +anything connected with the war. And yet we doubt whether there is any +actual brain lesion. So far it seems to be severe functional +disturbance--which is neurasthenia--aggravated by his wounds and general +state. But the condition is getting worse steadily. It is very sad, and +very touching. However, you will get it all out of Vincent. You must +have some dinner first. I wish you a good-night.' + +And the good man, so stout and broad-shouldered that he seemed to be +bursting out of his khaki, hurried away. The lady seemed to him +curiously hard and silent--'a forbidding sort of party.' But then he +himself was a person of sentiment, expressing all the expected feelings +in the right places, and with perfect sincerity. + +Bridget took her modest dinner, and then sat by the window, looking out +over a lonely expanse of sand, towards a moonlit sea. To right and left +were patches of pine wood, and odd little seaside villas, with fantastic +turrets and balconies. A few figures passed--nurses in white head +dresses, and men in khaki. Bridget understood after talking to the +little _patronne_, that the name of the place was Paris à la Mer, that +there was a famous golf course near, and that large building, with a +painted front to the right, was once the Casino, and now a hospital for +officers. + +It was all like a stage scene, the sea, the queer little houses, the +moonlight, the passing figures. Only the lights were so few and dim, and +there was no music. + +'Miss Cookson?' + +Bridget turned, to see a tall young surgeon in khaki, tired, pale and +dusty, who looked at her with a frown of worry, a man evidently +over-driven, and with hardly any mind to give to this extra task that +had been put upon him. + +'I'm sorry to be late--but we've had an awful rush to-day,' he said, as +he perfunctorily shook hands. 'There was some big fighting on the Somme, +the night before last, and the casualty trains have been coming in all +day. I'm only able to get away for five minutes. + +'Well now, Miss Cookson'--he sat down opposite her, and tried to get his +thoughts into business shape--'first let me tell you it's a great +misfortune for you that Howson's had to go off. I know something about +the case--but not nearly as much as he knows. First of all--how old was +your brother-in-law?' + +'About twenty-seven--I don't know precisely.' + +'H'm. Well of course this man looks much older than that--but the +question is what's he been through? Was Lieutenant Sarratt fair or +dark?' + +'Rather dark. He had brown hair.' + +'Eyes?' + +'I can't remember precisely,' said Bridget, after a moment. 'I don't +notice the colour of people's eyes. But I'm sure they were some kind of +brown.' + +'This man's are a greenish grey. Can you recollect anything peculiar +about Lieutenant Sarratt's hands?' + +Again Bridget paused for a second or two, and then said--'I can't +remember anything at all peculiar about them.' + +The surgeon looked at her closely, and was struck with the wooden +irresponsiveness of the face, which was however rather handsome, he +thought, than otherwise. No doubt, she was anxious to speak +deliberately, when so much might depend on her evidence and her opinion. +But he had never seen any countenance more difficult to read. + +'Perhaps you're not a close observer of such things?' + +'No, I don't think I am.' + +'H'm--that's rather a pity. A great deal may turn on them, in this +case.' + +Then the face before him woke up a little. + +'But I am quite sure I should know my brother-in-law again, under any +circumstances,' said Bridget, with emphasis. + +'Ah, don't be so sure! Privation and illness change people terribly. And +this poor fellow has _suffered_!'--he shrugged his shoulders +expressively. 'Well, you will see him to-morrow. There is of course no +external evidence to help us whatever. The unlucky accident that the +Englishman's companion--who was clearly a Belgian peasant, disguised--of +that there is no doubt--was shot through the lungs at the very moment +that the two men reached the British line, has wiped out all possible +means of identification--unless, of course, the man himself can be +recognised by someone who knew him. We have had at least a dozen +parties--relations of "missing" men--much more recent cases--over here +already--to no purpose. There is really no clue, unless'--the speaker +rose with a tired smile--'unless you can supply one, when you see him. +But I am sorry about the fingers. That has always seemed to me a +possible clue. To-morrow then, at eleven?' + +Bridget interrupted. + +'It is surely most unlikely that my brother-in-law could have survived +all this time? If he had been a prisoner, we should have heard of him, +long ago. Where could he have been?' + +The young man shrugged his shoulders. + +'There have been a few cases, you know--of escaped prisoners--evading +capture for a long time--and finally crossing the line. But of course it +_is_ very unlikely--most unlikely. Well, to-morrow?' He bowed and +departed. + +Bridget made her way to her small carpetless room, and sat for long with +a shawl round her at the open window. She could imagine the farm in this +moonlight. It was Saturday. Very likely both Cicely and Sir William were +at the cottage. She seemed to see Nelly, with the white shawl over her +dark head, saying good-night to them at the farm-gate. That meant that +it was all going forward. Some day,--and soon,--Nelly would discover +that Farrell was necessary to her--that she couldn't do without +him--just as she had never been able in practical ways to do without her +sister. No, there was nothing in the way of Nelly's great future, and +the free development of her--Bridget's--own life, but this sudden and +most unwelcome stroke of fate. If she had to send for Nelly--supposing +it really were Sarratt--and then if he died--Nelly might never get over +it. + +It might simply kill her--why not? All the world knew that she was a +weakling. And if it didn't kill her, it would make it infinitely less +likely that she would marry Farrell--in any reasonable time. Nelly was +not like other people. She was all feelings. Actually to see George +die--and in the state that these doctors described--would rack and +torture her. She would never be the same again. The first shock was bad +enough; this might be far worse. Bridget's selfishness, in truth, +counted on the same fact as Farrell's tenderness. 'After all, what +people don't see, they can't feel'--to quite the same degree. But if +Nelly, being Nelly, had seen the piteous thing, she would turn against +Farrell, and think it loyalty to George to send her rich suitor about +his business. Bridget felt that she could exactly foretell the course of +things. A squalid and melancholy veil dropped over the future. Poverty, +struggle, ill-health for Nelly--poverty, and the starving of all natural +desires and ambitions for herself--that was all there was to look +forward to, if the Farrells were alienated, and the marriage thwarted. + +A fierce revolt shook the woman by the window. She sat on there till the +moon dropped into the sea, and everything was still in the little +echoing hotel. And then though she went to bed she could not sleep. + + * * * * * + +After her coffee and roll in the little _salle à manger_, which with its +bare boards and little rags of curtains was only meant for summer +guests, and was now, on this first of November, nippingly cold, Bridget +wandered a little on the shore watching the white dust of the foam as a +chill west wind skimmed it from the incoming waves, then packed her bag, +and waited restlessly for Dr. Vincent. She understood she was to be +allowed, if she wished, two visits in the hospital, so as to give her an +opportunity of watching the patient she was going to see, without undue +hurry, and would then be motored back to D---- in time for the night +boat. She was bracing herself therefore to an experience the details of +which she only dimly foresaw, but which must in any case be excessively +disagreeable. What exactly she was going to do or say, she didn't know. +How could she, till the new fact was before her? + +Punctually on the stroke of eleven, a motor arrived in charge of an army +driver, and Bridget set out. They were to pick up Vincent in the town of +X---- itself and run on to the Camp. The sun was out by this time, and +all the seaside village, with its gimcrack hotels and villas flung +pell-mell upon the sand, and among the pines, was sparkling under it. So +were the withered woods, where the dead leaves were flying before the +wind, the old town where Napoleon gathered his legions for the attack on +England, and the wide sandy slopes beyond it, where the pine woods had +perished to make room for the Camp. The car stopped presently on the +edge of the town. To the left spread a river estuary, with a spit of +land beyond, and lighthouses upon it, sharp against a pale blue sky. +Every shade of pale yellow, of lilac and pearl, sparkled in the +distance, in the scudding water, the fast flying westerly clouds, and +the sandy inlets among the still surviving pines. + +'You're punctuality itself,' said a man emerging from a building before +which a sentry was pacing--'Now we shall be there directly.' + +The building, so Bridget was informed, housed the Headquarters of the +Base, and from it the business of the great Camp, whether on its +military or its hospital side, was mainly carried on. And as they drove +towards the Camp her companion, with the natural pride of the Englishman +in his job, told the marvellous tale of the two preceding years--how the +vast hospital city had been reared, and organised--the military camp +too--the convalescent camp--the transports--and the feeding. + +'The Boche thought they were the only organisers in the world!--We've +taught them better!' he said, with a laugh in his pleasant eyes, the +whole man of him, so weary the night before, now fresh and alert in the +morning sunshine. + +Bridget listened with an unwilling attention. This bit of the war seen +close at hand was beginning to suggest to her some new vast world, of +which she was wholly ignorant, where she was the merest cypher on +sufferance. The thought was disagreeable to her irritable pride, and she +thrust it aside. She had other things to consider. + +They drew up outside one of the general hospitals lined along the Camp +road. + +'You'll find him in a special ward,' said Vincent, as he handed her out. +'But I'll take you first to Sister.' + +They entered the first hut, and made their way past various small rooms, +amid busy people going to and fro. Bridget was aware of the usual +hospital smell of mingled anesthetic and antiseptic, and presently, her +companion laid a hasty hand on her arm and drew her to one side. A +surgeon passed with a nurse. They entered a room on the right, and left +the door of it a little ajar. + +'The operating theatre,' said Vincent, with a gesture that shewed her +where to look; and through the open door Bridget saw a white room +beyond, an operating table and a man, a splendid boy of nineteen or +twenty lying on it, with doctors and nurses standing round. The youth's +features shewed waxen against the white walls, and white overalls of the +nurses. + +'This way,' said Vincent. 'Sister, this is Miss Cookson. You +remember--Dr. Howson sent for her.' + +A shrewd-faced woman of forty in nurse's dress looked closely at +Bridget. + +'We shall be very glad indeed, Miss Cookson, if you can throw any light +on this case. It is one of the saddest we have here. Will you follow me, +please?' + +Bridget found herself passing through the main ward of the hut, rows of +beds on either hand. She seemed to be morbidly conscious of scores of +eyes upon her, and was glad when she found herself in the passage beyond +the ward. + +The Sister opened a door into a tiny sitting-room, and offered Bridget a +chair. + +'They have warned you that this poor fellow is deaf and dumb?' + +'Yes--I had heard that.' + +'And his brain is very clouded. He tries to do all we tell him--it is +touching to see him. But his real intelligence seems to be far away. +Then there are the wounds. Did Dr. Howson tell you about them?' + +'He said there were bad wounds.' + +The Sister threw up her hands. + +'How he ever managed to do the walking he must have done to get through +the lines is a mystery to us all. What he must have endured! The wounds +must have been dressed to begin with in a German field-hospital. Then on +his way to Germany, before the wounds had properly healed--that at least +is our theory--somewhere near the Belgian frontier he must have made his +escape. What happened then, of course, during the winter and spring +nobody knows; but when he reached our lines, the wounds were both in a +septic state. There have been two operations for gangrene since he has +been here. I don't think he'll stand another.' + +Bridget lifted her eyes and looked intently at the speaker-- + +'You think he's very ill?' + +'Very ill,' said the Sister emphatically. 'If you can identify him, you +must send for his wife at once--_at once_! Lieutenant Sarratt was, I +think, married?' + +'Yes,' said Bridget. 'Now may I see him?' + +The Sister looked at her visitor curiously. She was both puzzled and +repelled by Bridget's manner, by its lack of spring and cordiality, its +dull suggestion of something reserved and held back. But perhaps the +woman was only shy; and oppressed by the responsibility of what she had +come to do. The Sister was a very human person, and took tolerant views +of everything that was not German. She rose, saying gently-- + +'If I may advise you, take time to watch him, before you form or express +any opinion. We won't hurry you.' + +Bridget followed her guide a few steps along the corridor. The Sister +opened a door, and stood aside to let Bridget pass in. Then she came in +herself, and beckoned to a young probationer who was rolling bandages on +the further side of the only bed the room contained. The girl quietly +put down her work and went out. + +There was a man lying in the bed, and Bridget looked at him. Her heart +beat so fast, that she felt for a moment sick and suffocated. The Sister +bent over him tenderly, and put back the hair, the grey hair which had +fallen over his forehead. At the touch, his eyes opened, and as he saw +the Sister's face he very faintly smiled. Bridget suddenly put out a +hand and steadied herself by a chair standing beside the bed. The Sister +however saw nothing but the face on the pillow, and the smile. The smile +was so rare!--it was the one sufficient reward for all his nurses did +for him. + +'Now I'll leave you,' said the Sister, forbearing to ask any further +questions. 'Won't you sit down there? If you want anyone, you have only +to touch that bell.' + +She disappeared. And Bridget sat down, her eyes on the figure in the +bed, and on the hand outside the sheet. Her own hands were trembling, as +they lay crossed upon her lap. + +How grey and thin the hair was--how ghostly the face--what suffering in +every line! + +Bridget drew closer. + +'George!' she whispered. + +No answer. The man's eyes were closed again. He seemed to be asleep. +Bridget looked at his hand--intently. Then she touched it. + +The heavy blue-veined eyelids rose again, as though at the only summons +the brain understood. Bridget bent forward. What colour there had been +in it before ebbed from her sallow face; her lips grew white. The eyes +of the man in the bed met hers--first mechanically--without any sign of +consciousness; then--was it imagination?--or was there a sudden change +of expression--a quick trouble--a flickering of the lids? Bridget shook +through every limb. If he recognised her, if the sight of her brought +memory back--even a gleam of it--there was an end of everything, of +course. She had only to go to the nearest telegraph office and send for +Nelly. + +But the momentary stimulus passed as she looked--the eyes grew vacant +again--the lids fell. Bridget drew a long breath. She raised herself and +moved her chair farther away. + +Time passed. The window behind her was open, and the sun came in, and +stole over the bed. The sick man scarcely moved at all. There was +complete silence, except for the tread of persons in the corridor +outside, and certain distant sounds of musketry and bomb practice from +the military camp half a mile away. + +He was dying--the man in the bed. That was plain. Bridget knew the look +of mortal illness. It couldn't be long. + +She sat there nearly an hour--thinking. At the end of that time she rang +the hand-bell near her. + +Sister Agnes appeared at once. Bridget had risen and confronted her. + +'Well,' said the Sister eagerly. But the visitor's irresponsive look +quenched her hopes at once. + +'I see nothing at all that reminds me of my brother-in-law,' said +Bridget with emphasis. 'I am very sorry--but I cannot identify this +person as George Sarratt.' + +The Sister's face fell. + +'You don't even see the general likeness Dr. Howson thought he saw?' + +Bridget turned back with her towards the bed. + +'I see what Dr. Howson meant,' she said, slowly. 'But there is no real +likeness. My brother-in-law's face was much longer. His mouth was quite +different. And his eyes were brown.' + +'Did you see the eyes again? Did he look at you?' + +'Yes.' + +'And there was no sign of recognition?' + +'No.' + +'Poor dear fellow!' said the Sister, stooping over him again. There was +a profound and yearning pity in the gesture. 'I wish we could have kept +him more alive--more awake--for you, to see. But there had to be morphia +this morning. He had a dreadful night. Are you _quite_ sure? Wouldn't +you like to come back this afternoon, and watch him again? Sometimes a +second time--Oh, and what of the hands?--did you notice them?' And +suddenly remembering Dr. Howson's words, the Sister pointed to the +long, bloodless fingers lying on the sheet, and to the marked deformity +in each little finger. + +'Yet--but George's hands were not peculiar in any way.' Bridget's voice, +as she spoke, seemed to herself to come from far away; as though it were +that of another person speaking under compulsion. + +'I'm sorry--I'm sorry!'--the Sister repeated. 'It's so sad for him to be +dying here--all alone--nobody knowing even who he is--when one thinks +how somebody must be grieving and longing for him.' + +'Have you no other enquiries?' said Bridget, abruptly, turning to pick +up some gloves she had laid down. + +'Oh yes--we have had other visitors--and I believe there is a gentleman +coming to-morrow. But nothing that sounded so promising as your visit. +You won't come again?' + +'It would be no use,' said the even, determined voice. 'I will write to +Dr. Howson from London. And I do hope'--for the first time, the kindly +nurse perceived some agitation in this impressive stranger--'I do hope +that nobody will write to my sister--to Mrs. Sarratt. She is very +delicate. Excitement and disappointment might just kill her. That's why +I came.' + +'And that of course is why Dr. Howson wrote to you first. Oh I am sure +he will take every care. He'll be very, very sorry! You'll write to him? +And of course so shall I.' + +The news that the lady from England had failed to identify the nameless +patient to whom doctor and nurses had been for weeks giving their most +devoted care spread rapidly, and Bridget before she left the hospital +had to run the gauntlet of a good many enquiries, at the hands of the +various hospital chiefs. She produced on all those who questioned her +the impression of an unattractive, hard, intelligent woman whose +judgment could probably be trusted. + +'Glad she isn't my sister-in-law!' thought Vincent as he turned back +from handing her into the motor which was to take her to the port. But +he did not doubt her verdict, and was only sorry for 'old Howson,' who +had been so sure that something would come of her visit. + +The motor took Bridget rapidly back to D----, where she would be in good +time for an afternoon boat. She got some food, automatically, at a hotel +near the quay, and automatically made her way to the boat when the time +came. A dull sense of something irrevocable,--something +horrible,--overshadowed her. But the 'will to conquer' in her was as +iron; and, as in the Prussian conscience, left no room for pity or +remorse. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +A psychologist would have found much to interest him in Bridget +Cookson's mental state during the days which followed on her journey to +France. The immediate result of that journey was an acute sharpening of +intelligence, accompanied by a steady, automatic repression of all those +elements of character or mind which might have interfered with its free +working. Bridget understood perfectly that she had committed a crime, +and at first she had not been able to protect herself against the normal +reaction of horror or fear. But the reaction passed very quickly. +Conscience gave up the ghost. Selfish will, and keen wits held the +field; and Bridget ceased to be more than occasionally uncomfortable, +though a certain amount of anxiety was of course inevitable. + +She did not certainly want to be found out, either by Nelly or the +Farrells; and she took elaborate steps to prevent it. She wrote first a +long letter to Howson giving her reasons for refusing to believe in his +tentative identification of the man at X---- as George Sarratt, and +begging him not to write to her sister. 'That would be indeed _cruel_. +She can just get along now, and every month she gets a little stronger. +But her heart, which was weakened by the influenza last year, would +never stand the shock of a fearful disappointment. Please let her be. I +take all the responsibility. That man is not George Sarratt. I hope you +may soon discover who he is.' + +Step No. 2 was to go, on the very morning after she arrived in London, +to the Enquiry Office in A---- Street. Particulars of the case in France +had that morning reached the office, and Bridget was but just in time to +stop a letter from Miss Eustace to Nelly. When she pointed out that she +had been over to France on purpose to see for herself, that there was no +doubt at all in her own mind, and that it would only torment a frail +invalid to no purpose to open up the question, the letter was of course +countermanded. Who could possibly dispute a sister's advice in such a +case? And who could attribute the advice to anything else than sisterly +affection! + +Meanwhile among the mountains an unusually early winter was beginning to +set in. The weather grew bitterly cold, and already a powdering of snow +was on the fell-tops. For all that, Nelly could never drink deep enough +of the November beauty, as it shone upon the fells through some bright +frosty days. The oaks were still laden with leaf; the fern was still +scarlet on the slopes; and the ghylls and waterfalls leapt foaming white +down their ancestral courses. And in this austerer world, Nelly's +delicate personality, as though braced by the touch of winter, seemed to +move more lightly and buoyantly. She was more vividly interested in +things and persons--in her drawing, her books, her endless knitting and +sewing for the wounded. She was puzzled that Bridget stayed so long in +town, but alack! she could do very well without Bridget. Some portion of +the savour of life, of that infinity of small pleasures which each day +may bring for the simple and the pure in heart, was again hers. +Insensibly the great wound was healing. The dragging anguish of the +first year assailed her now but rarely. + +One morning she opened the windows in the little sitting-room, to let in +the sunshine, and the great spectacle of the Pikes wrapped in majestic +shadow, purple-black, with the higher peaks ranged in a hierarchy of +light behind them. + +She leant far out of the window, breathing in the tonic smell of the oak +leaves on the grass beneath her, and the freshness of the mountain air. +Then, as she turned back to the white-walled raftered room with its +bright fire, she was seized with the pleasantness of this place which +was now her home. Insensibly it had captured her heart, and her senses. +And who was it--what contriving brain--had designed and built it up, out +of the rough and primitive dwelling it had once been? + +Of course, William Farrell had done it all! There was scarcely a piece +of furniture, a picture, a book, that was not of his choosing and +placing. Little by little, they had been gathered round her. His hand +had touched and chosen them, every one. He took far more pleasure and +interest in the details of these few rooms than in any of his own +houses and costly possessions. + +Suddenly--as she sat there on the window-ledge, considering the room, +her back to the mountains--one of those explosions of consciousness +rushed upon Nelly, which, however surprising the crash, are really long +prepared and inevitable. + +What did that room really _mean_--the artistic and subtle simplicity of +it?--the books, the flowers, and the few priceless things, drawings or +terra-cottas, brought from the cottage, and changed every few weeks by +Farrell himself, who would arrive with them under his arm, or in his +pockets, and take them back in like manner. + +The colour flooded into Nelly's face. She dropped it in her hands with a +low cry. An agony seized her. She loathed herself. + +Then springing up passionately she began to pace the narrow floor, her +slender arms and hands locked behind her. + +Sir William was coming that very evening. So was Cicely, who was to be +her own guest at the farm, while Marsworth, so she heard, was to have +the spare room at the cottage. + +She had not seen William Farrell for some time--for what counted, at +least, as some time in their relation; not since that evening before +Bridget went away--more than a fortnight. But it was borne in upon her +that she had heard from him practically every day. There, in the drawer +of her writing-table, lay the packet of his letters. She looked for +them now morning after morning, and if they failed her, the day seemed +blank. Anybody might have read them--or her replies. None the less +Farrell's letters were the outpouring of a man's heart and mind to the +one person with whom he felt himself entirely at ease. The endless +problems and happenings of the great hospital to which he was devoting +more and more energy, and more and more wealth; the incidents and +persons that struck him; his loves and hates among the staff or the +patients; the humour or the pity of the daily spectacle;--it was all +there in his letters, told in a rich careless English that stuck to the +memory. Nelly was accustomed to read and re-read them. + +Yes, and she was proud to receive them!--proud that he thought so much +of her opinion and cared so much for her sympathy. But _why_ did he +write to her, so constantly, so intimately?--what was the real motive of +it all? + +At last, Nelly asked herself the question. It was fatal of course. So +long as no question is asked of Lohengrin--who, what, and whence he +is--the spell holds, the story moves. But examine it, as we all know, +and the vision fades, the gleam is gone. + +She passed rapidly, and almost with terror, into a misery of remorse. +What had she been doing with this kindest and best of men? Allowing him +to suppose that after a little while she would be quite ready to forget +George and be his wife? That threw her into a fit of helpless crying. +The tears ran down her cheeks as she moved to and fro. Her +George!--falling out there, in that ghastly No Man's Land, dying out +there, alone, with no one to help, and quiet now in his unknown grave. +And after little more than a year she was to forget him, and be rich and +happy with a new lover--a new husband? + +She seemed to herself the basest of women. Base towards George--and +towards Farrell--both! What could she do?--what must she do? Oh, she +must go away--she must break it all off! And looking despairingly round +the room, which only an hour before had seemed to her so dear and +familiar, she tried to imagine herself in exile from all it represented, +cut off from Farrell and from Cicely, left only to her own weak self. + +But she must--she _must_! That very evening she must speak to Willy--she +must have it out. Of course he would urge her to stay there--he would +promise to go away--and leave her alone. But that would be too mean, too +ungrateful. She couldn't banish him from this spot that he loved, where +he snatched his few hours--always now growing fewer--of rest and +pleasure. No, she must just depart. Without telling him? Without +warning? Her will failed her. + +She got out her table, with its knitting, and its bundles of prepared +work which had arrived that morning from the workroom, and began upon +one of them mechanically. But she was more and more weighed down by a +sense of catastrophe--which was also a sense of passionate shame. Why, +she was George's wife, still!--his _wife_--for who could _know_, for +certain, that he was dead? That was what the law meant. _Seven years_! + + * * * * * + +She spent the day in a wretched confusion of thoughts and plans. A +telegram from Cicely arrived about midday--'Can't get to you till +to-morrow. Willy and Marsworth coming to-day--Marsworth not till late.' + +So any hour might bring Farrell. She sat desperately waiting for him. +Meanwhile there was a post-card from Bridget saying that she too would +probably arrive that evening. + +That seemed the last straw. Bridget would merely think her a fool; +Bridget would certainly quarrel with her. Why, it had been Bridget's +constant object to promote the intimacy with the Farrells, to throw her +and Sir William together. Nelly remembered her own revolts and refusals. +They seemed now so long ago! In those days it was jealousy for George +that filled her, the fierce resolve to let no one so much as dream that +she could ever forget him, and to allow no one to give money to George's +wife, for whom George himself had provided, and should still provide. +And at an earlier stage--after George left her, and before he died--she +could see herself, as she looked back, keeping Sir William firmly at a +distance, resenting those friendly caressing ways, which others +accepted--which she too now accepted, so meekly, so abominably! She +thought of his weekly comings and goings, as they were now; how, in +greeting and good-bye, he would hold her hands, both of them, in his; +how once or twice he had raised them to his lips. And it had begun to +seem quite natural to her, wretch that she was; because he pitied her, +because he was so good to her--and so much older, nearly twenty years. +He was her brother and dear friend, and she the little sister whom he +cherished, who sympathised with all he did, and would listen as long as +he pleased, while he talked of everything that filled his mind--the war +news, his work, his books, his companions; or would sit by, watching +breathlessly while his skilful hand put down some broad 'note' of colour +or light, generally on a page of her own sketch-book. + +Ah, but it must end--it must end! And she must tell him to-night. + +Then she fell to thinking of how it was she had been so blind for so +long; and was now in this tumult of change. One moment, and she was +still the Nelly of yesterday, cheerful, patient, comforted by the love +of her friends; and the next, she had become this poor, helpless thing, +struggling with her conscience, her guilty conscience, and her sorrow. +How had it happened? There was something uncanny, miraculous in it. But +anyway, there, in a flash it stood revealed--her treason to George--her +unkindness to Willy. + +For she would never marry him--never! She simply felt herself an +unfaithful wife--a disloyal friend. + + * * * * * + +The November day passed on, cloudless, to its red setting over the +Coniston fells. Wetherlam stood black against the barred scarlet of the +west, and all the valleys lay veiled in a blue and purple mist, +traversed by rays of light, wherever a break in the mountain wall let +the sunset through. The beautiful winter twilight had just begun, when +Nelly heard the step she waited for outside. + +She did not run to the window to greet him as she generally did. She sat +still, by the fire, her knitting on her knee. Her black dress was very +black, with the plainest white ruffle at her throat. She looked very +small and pitiful. Perhaps she meant to look it! The weak in dealing +with the strong have always that instinctive resource. + +'How jolly to find you alone!' said Farrell joyously, as he entered the +room. 'I thought Miss Bridget was due.' He put down the books with which +he had come laden and approached her with outstretched hands. 'I +say!--you don't look well!' His look, suddenly sobered, examined her. + +'Oh yes, I am quite well. Bridget comes to-night.' + +She hurriedly withdrew herself, and he sat down opposite her, holding +some chilly fingers to the blaze, surveying her all the time. + +'Why doesn't Bridget stop here and look after you?' + +Nelly laughed. 'Because she has much more interesting things to do!' + +'That's most unlikely! Have you been alone all the week?' + +'Yes, but quite busy, thank you--and quite well.' 'You don't look it,' +he repeated gravely, after a moment. + +'So busy, and so well,' she insisted, 'that even I can't find excuses +for idling here much longer.' + +He gave a perceptible start. 'What does that mean? What are you going to +do?' + +'I don't know. But I think'--she eyed him uneasily--'hospital work of +some kind.' + +He shook his head. + +'I wouldn't take you in my hospital! You'd knock up in a week.' + +'You're quite, quite mistaken,' she said, eagerly. 'I can wash dishes +and plates now as well as anyone. Hester told me the other day of a +small hospital managed by a friend of hers--where they want a +parlour-maid. I could do that capitally.' + +'Where is it?' he asked, after a moment. + +She hesitated, and at last said evasively-- + +'In Surrey somewhere--I think.' + +He took up the tongs, and deliberately put the fire together, in +silence. At last he said-- + +'I thought you promised Cicely and me that you wouldn't attempt +anything of the kind?' + +'Not till I was fit.' Her voice trembled a little. 'But now I am--quite +fit.' + +'You should let your friends judge that for you,' he said gently. + +'No, no, I can't. I must judge for myself.' She spoke with growing +agitation. 'You have been so awfully, awfully good to me!--and now'--she +bent forward and laid a pleading hand on his arm--'now you must be good +to me in another way I you must let me go. I brood here too much. I want +not to think--I am so tired of myself. Let me go and think about other +people--drudge a little--and slave a little! Let me--it will do me +good!' + +His face altered perceptibly during this appeal. When he first came in, +fresh from the frosty air, his fair hair and beard flaming in the +firelight, his eyes all pleasure, he had seemed the embodiment of +whatever is lusty and vigorous in life--an overwhelming presence in the +little cottage room. But he had many subtler aspects. And as he listened +to her, the Viking, the demi-god, disappeared. + +'And what about those--to whom it will do harm?' + +'Oh no, it won't do harm--to anybody,' she faltered. + +'It will do the greatest harm!'--he laid a sharp emphasis on the words. +'Isn't it worth while to be just the joy and inspiration of those who +can work hard--so that they go away from you, renewed like eagles? +Cicely and I come--we tell you our troubles--our worries--our failures, +and our successes. We couldn't tell them to anyone else. But you sit +here; and you're so gentle and so wise--you see things so clearly, just +because you're not in the crowd, not in the rough and tumble--that we go +away--bucked up!--and run our shows the better for our hours with you. +Why must women be always bustling and hurrying, and all of them doing +the same things? If you only knew the blessing it is to find someone +with a little leisure just to feel, and think!--just to listen to what +one has to say. You know I am always bursting with things to say!' + +He looked at her with a laugh. His colour had risen. + +'I arrive here--often--full of grievances and wrath against +everybody--hating the Government--hating the War Office--hating our own +staff, or somebody on it--entirely and absolutely persuaded that the +country is going to the dogs, and that we shall be at Germany's mercy in +six months. Well, there you sit--I don't know how you manage it!--but +somehow it all clears away. I don't want to hang anybody any more--I +think we are going to win--I think our staff are splendid fellows, and +the nurses, angels--(they ain't, though, all the same!)--and it's all +_you_!--just by being you--just by giving me rope enough--letting me +have it all out. And I go away with twice the work in me I had when I +came. And Cicely's the same--and Hester. You play upon us all--just +because'--he hesitated--'because you're so sweet to us all. You raise us +to a higher power; you work through us. Who else will do it if you +desert us?' + +Her lips trembled. + +'I don't want to desert you, but--what right have I to such +comfort--such luxury--when other people are suffering and toiling?' + +He raised his eyebrows. + +'Luxury? This little room? And there you sit sewing and knitting all +day! And I'll be bound you don't eat enough to keep a sparrow!' + +There was silence. She was saying to herself--'Shall I ever be able to +go?--to break with them all?' The thought, the image, of George flashed +again through her mind. But why was it so much fainter, so much less +distinct than it had been an hour ago? Yet she seemed to turn to him, to +beg him piteously to protect her from something vague and undefined. + +Suddenly a low voice spoke-- + +'Nelly!--don't go!' + +She looked up--startled--her childish eyes full of tears. + +He held out his hand, and she could not help it, she yielded her own. + +Farrell's look was full of energy, of determination. He drew nearer to +her, still holding her hand. But he spoke with perfect self-control. + +'Nelly, I won't deceive you! I love you! You are everything to me. It +seems as if I had never been happy--never known what happiness could +possibly mean till I knew you. To come here every week--to see you like +this for these few hours--it changes everything--it sweetens +everything--because you are in my heart--because I have the hope--that +some day----' + +She withdrew her hand and covered her face. + +'Oh, it's my fault--my fault!' she said, incoherently--'how could +I?--how _could_ I?' + +There was silence again. He opened his lips to speak once or twice, but +no words came. One expression succeeded another on his face; his eyes +sparkled. At last he said--'How could you help it? You could not prevent +my loving you.' + +'Yes, I could--I ought----,' she said, vehemently. 'Only I was a fool--I +never realised. That's so like me. I won't face things. And yet'--she +looked at him miserably--'I did beg you to let me live my own +life--didn't I?--not to spoil me--not--not to be so kind to me.' + +He smiled. + +'Yes. But then you see--you were you!' + +She sprang up, looking down upon him, as he sat by the fire. 'That's +just it. If I were another person! But no!--no! I can't be your friend. +I'm not old enough--or clever enough. And I can't ever be anything +else.' + +'Why?' He asked it very quietly, his eyes raised to hers. He could see +the quick beat of her breath under her black dress. + +'Because I'm not my own. I'm not free--you know I'm not. I'm not free +legally--and I'm not free in heart. Oh, if George were to come in at +that door!'--she threw back her head with a passionate gesture--'there +would be nobody else in the world for me--nobody--nobody!' + +He stooped over the fire, fidgeting with it, so that his face was hidden +from her. + +'You know, I think, that if I believed there was the faintest hope of +that, I should never have said a word--of my own feelings. But as it +is--why must you feel bound to break up this--this friendship, which +means so much to us all? What harm is there in it? Time will clear up a +great deal. I'll hold my tongue--I promise you. I won't bother you. I +won't speak of it again--for a year--or more--if you wish. But--don't +forsake us!' + +He looked up with that smile which in Cicely's unbiased opinion gave him +such an unfair advantage over womankind. + +With a little sob, Nelly walked away towards the window, which was still +uncurtained though the night had fallen. Outside there was a starry deep +of sky, above Wetherlam and the northern fells. The great shapes held +the valley in guard; the river windings far below seemed still to keep +the sunset; while here and there shone scattered lights in farms and +cottages, sheltering the old, old life of the dales. + +Insensibly Nelly's passionate agitation began to subside. Had she been +filling her own path with imaginary perils and phantoms? Yet there +echoed in her mind the low-spoken words--'I won't deceive you! I love +you!' And the recollection both frightened and touched her. + +Presently Farrell spoke again, quite in his usual voice. + +'I shall be in despair if you leave me to tackle Cicely alone. She's +been perfectly mad lately. But you can put it all right if you choose.' + +Nelly was startled into turning back towards him. + +'Oh!--how can I?' + +'Tell her she has been behaving abominably, and making a good fellow's +life a burden to him. Scold her! Laugh at her!' + +'What has she been doing?' said Nelly, still standing by the window. + +Farrell launched into a racy and elaborate account--the effort of one +determined, _coûte que coûte_, to bring the conversation back to an +ordinary key--of Cicely's proceedings, during the ten days since Nelly +had seen her. + +It appeared that Marsworth, after many weeks during which they had heard +nothing of him, had been driven north again to his Carton doctor, by a +return of neuralgic trouble in his wounded arm; and as usual had put up +at the Rectory, where as usual Miss Daisy, the Rector's granddaughter, +had ministered to him like the kind little brick she was. + +'You see, she's altogether too good to be true!' said Farrell. 'And yet +it is true. She looks after her grandfather and the parish. She runs the +Sunday school, and all the big boys are in love with her. She does +V.A.D. work at the hospital. She spends nothing on her dress. She's +probably up at six every morning. And all the time, instead of being +plain, which of course virtue ought to be, she's as pretty as +possible--like a little bird. And Cicely can't abide her. I don't know +whether she's in love with Marsworth. Probably she is. Why not? At any +rate, whenever Marsworth and Cicely fall out, which they do every +day--Cicely has the vile habit--of course you know!--of visiting +Marsworth's sins upon little Daisy Stewart. I understood she was guilty +of some enormity at the Red Cross sale in the village last week. +Marsworth was shocked, and had it out with her. Consequently they +haven't been on speaking terms for days.' + +'What shall we do with them to-morrow?' cried Nelly in alarm, coming to +sit down again by the fire and taking up her knitting. How strange it +was--after that moment of tempestuous emotion--to have fallen back +within a few minutes into this familiar, intimate chat! Her pulse was +still rushing. She knew that something irrevocable had happened, and +that when she was alone, she must face it. And meanwhile here she sat +knitting!--and trying to help him with Cicely as usual! + +'Oh, and to-morrow!'--said Farrell with amusement, 'the fat will indeed +be in the fire.' + +And he revealed the fact that on his way through Grasmere he had fallen +in with the Stewarts. The old man had been suffering from bronchitis, +and the two had come for a few days' change to some cousins at Grasmere. + +'And the old man's a bit of a collector and wants to see the Turners. He +knows Carton by heart. So I had to ask them to come up to-morrow--and +there it is!--Cicely will find them in possession, with Marsworth in +attendance!' + +'Why does she come at all?' said Nelly, wondering. 'She knows Captain +Marsworth will be here. She said so, in her telegram.' + +Farrell shrugged his shoulders. + +'"It taks aw soarts to mak a worrld," as they say up here. But Marsworth +and Cis are queer specimens! I am privately certain he can't do for long +without seeing her. And as for her, I had no sooner arranged that he +should join me here to-night, than she telegraphed to you! Just like +her! I had no idea she thought of coming. Well, I suppose to quarrel +yourself into matrimony is one of the recognised openings!' + +The talk dropped. The joint consciousness behind it was too much for +it. It fell like a withered leaf. + +Farrell got up to go. Nelly too rose, trembling, to her feet. He took +her hand. + +'Don't leave us,' he repeated, softly. 'You are our little saint--you +help us by just living. Don't attempt things too hard for you. You'll +kill yourself, and then----' + +She looked at him mutely, held by the spell of his eyes. + +'Well then,' he finished, abruptly, 'there won't be much left for one +man to live for. Good-night.' + +He was gone, and she was left standing in the firelight, a small, +bewildered creature. + +'What shall I do?' she was saying to herself, 'Oh, what ought I to do?' + +She sank down on the floor, and hid her face against a chair. +Helplessly, she wished that Hester would come!--someone wise and strong +who would tell her what was right. The thought of supplanting George, of +learning to forget him, of letting somebody else take his place in her +heart, was horrible--even monstrous--to her. Yet she did not know how +she would ever find the strength to make Farrell suffer. His devotion +appealed--not to any answering passion in her--there was none--but to an +innate lovingness, that made it a torment to her to refuse to love and +be loved. Her power of dream, of visualisation, shewed him to her alone +and unhappy; when, perhaps, she might still--without harm--have been a +help to him--have shewn him her gratitude. She felt herself wavering and +retreating; seeking, as usual, the easiest path out of her great +dilemma. Must she either be disloyal to her George?--her dead, her +heroic George!--or unkind to this living man, whose unselfish devotion +had stood between her and despair? After all, might it not still go on? +She could protect herself. She was not afraid. + +But she _was_ afraid! She was in truth held by the terror of her own +weakness, and Farrell's strength, as she lay crouching by the fire. + +Outside the wind was rising. Great clouds were coming up from the +south-west. The rain had begun. Soon it was lashing the windows, and +pouring from the eaves of the old farmhouse. + +Nelly went back to her work; and the wind and rain grew wilder as the +hours passed. Just as she was thinking wearily of going to bed, there +were sounds of wheels outside. + +Bridget? so late! Nelly had long since given her up. What a night on +which to face the drive from Windermere! Poor horse!--poor man! + +Yes, it was certainly Bridget! As Nelly half rose, she heard the harsh, +deep voice upon the stairs. A tall figure, heavily cloaked, entered. + +'My dear Bridget--I'd quite given you up!' + +'No need,' said Bridget coolly, as she allowed Nelly to kiss her cheek. +'The afternoon train from Euston was a little late. You can't help that +with all these soldiers about.' + +'Come and sit down by the fire. Have you done all you wanted to do?' + +'Yes.' + +Bridget sat down, after taking off her wet water-proof, and held a +draggled hat to the blaze. Nelly looking at her was struck by the fact +that Bridget's hair had grown very grey, and the lines in her face very +deep. What an extraordinary person Bridget was! What had she been doing +all this time? + +But nothing could be got out of the traveller. She sat by the fire for a +while, and let Nelly get her a tray of food. But she said very little, +except to complain of the weather, and, once, to ask if the Farrells +were at the cottage. + +'Sir William is there, with Captain Marsworth,' said Nelly. 'Cicely +comes here to-morrow.' + +'Does she expect me to give her my room?' said Bridget sharply. + +'Not at all. She likes the little spare-room.' + +'Or pretends to! Has Sir William been here to-day?' + +'Yes, he came round.' + +A few more questions and answers led to silence broken only by the +crackling of the fire. The firelight played on Nelly's cheek and throat, +and on her white languid hands. Presently it caught her wedding-ring, +and Bridget's eye was drawn to the sparkle of the gold. She sat looking +absently at her sister. She was thinking of a tiny room in a hut +hospital--of the bed--and of those eyes that had opened on her. And +there sat Nelly--knowing nothing! + +It was all a horrible anxiety. But it couldn't last long. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +'So you are not at church?' + +The voice was Marsworth's as he stepped inside the flagged passage of +the farm, Nelly having just opened the door to him. + +'It's so far!--in winter,' said Nelly a little guiltily. 'I go to +Grasmere in summer.' + +'Oh! don't apologise--to a heathen like me! I'm only too thankful to +find you alone. Is your sister here?' + +'Yes. But we've made a room for her in one of the outhouses. She works +there.' + +'What at? Is she still learning Spanish?' asked Marsworth, smiling, as +he followed Nelly into the little white drawing-room. + +'I don't know,' said Nelly, after a moment, in a tone of depression. +'Bridget doesn't tell me.' + +The corners of Marsworth's strong mouth shewed amusement. He was not +well acquainted with Bridget Cookson, but as far as his observation +went, she seemed to him a curious specimen of the half-educated +pretentious woman so plentiful in our modern life. In place of +'psychology' and 'old Spanish,' the subjects in which Miss Cookson was +said to be engaged, he would have liked to prescribe for her--and all +her kin--courses of an elementary kind in English history and vulgar +fractions. + +But, for Nelly Sarratt, Marsworth felt the tender and chivalrous respect +that natures like hers exact easily from strong men. To him, as to +Farrell, she was the 'little saint' and peacemaker, with her lovingness, +her sympathy, her lack of all the normal vanities and alloys that beset +the pretty woman. That she was not a strong character, that she was +easily influenced and guided by those who touched her affections, he +saw. But that kind of weakness in a woman--when that woman also +possesses the mysterious something, half physical, half spiritual, which +gives delight--is never unpleasing to such men as Marsworth, nor indeed +to other women. It was Marsworth's odd misfortune that he should have +happened to fall in love with a young woman who had practically none of +the qualities that he naturally and spontaneously admired in the sex. + +It was, however, about that young woman that he had come to talk. For he +was well aware of Nelly's growing intimacy with Cicely, and had lately +begun to look upon that as his last hope. + +Yet he was no sooner alone with Nelly than he felt a dim compunction. +This timid creature, with her dark haunting eyes, had problems enough of +her own to face. He perceived clearly that Farrell's passion for her was +mounting fast, and he had little or no idea what kind of response she +was likely to make to it. But all the same his own need drove him on. +And Nelly, who had scarcely slept all night, caught eagerly at some +temporary escape from her own perplexities. + +'Dear Mrs. Sarratt!--have you _any_ idea, whether Cicely cares one brass +farthing for me, or not?' + +To such broad and piteous appeal was a gallant officer reduced. Nelly +was sorry for him, but could not hide the smile in her eyes, as she +surveyed him. + +'Have you really asked her?' + +'Asked her? Many times!--in the dark ages. It is months, however, since +she gave me the smallest chance of doing it again. Everything I do or +say appears to annoy her, and of course, naturally, I have relieved her +of my presence as much as possible.' + +Nelly had taken up her knitting. + +'If you never come--perhaps--Cicely thinks you are tired of her.' + +Marsworth groaned. + +'Is that her line now? And yet you know--you are witness!--of how she +behaves when I do come.' + +Nelly looked up boldly. + +'You mustn't be angry, but--why can't you accept her--as she is--without +always wanting her different?' + +Marsworth flushed slightly. The impressive effect of his fine iron-grey +head, and marked features, his scrupulously perfect dress, and general +look of competence and ability, was deplorably undone by the signs in +him of bewilderment and distress. + +'You mean--you think I bully her?--she thinks so?' + +'She--she feels--you so dreadfully disapprove of her!' said Nelly, +sticking to it, but smiling. + +'She regards me as a first-class prig in fact?' + +'No--but she thinks you don't always understand.' + +'That I don't know what a splendid creature she is, really?' said +Marsworth with increasing agitation. 'But I do know it! I know it up and +down. Why everybody--except those she dislikes!--at that hospital, +adores her. She's wearing herself out at the work. None of us are fit to +black her boots. But if one ever tries to tell her so--my hat!' + +'Perhaps she doesn't like being praised either,' said Nelly softly. +'Perhaps she thinks--an old friend--should take it all for granted.' + +'Good Lord!' said Marsworth holding his head in desperation--'whatever I +do is wrong! Dear Mrs. Sarratt!--look here--I must speak up for myself. +You know how Cicely has taken of late to being intolerably rude to +anybody she thinks is my friend. She castigates me through them. That +poor little girl, Daisy Stewart--why she's ready at any moment to +worship Cicely! But Cicely tramples on her--_you_ know how she does +it--and if I interfere, I'm made to wish I had never been born! At the +present moment, Cicely won't speak to me. There was some silly shindy at +a parish tea last week--by the way, she's coming to you to-day?' + +'She arrives for lunch,' said Nelly, looking at the clock. + +'And the Stewarts are coming to the cottage in the afternoon!' said +Marsworth in despair. 'Can you keep her away?' + +'I'll try--but you know it's not much good trying to manage Cicely.' + +'Don't I know it! I return to my first question--does she care a +hapo'rth?' + +Nelly was looking dreamily into the fire. + +'You mean--does she care enough to give up her ways and take to yours?' + +'Yes, I suppose I do mean that,' he said, with sudden seriousness. + +Nelly shook her head, smiling. + +'I don't know! But--Cicely's worth a deal of trouble.' + +He assented with a mixture of fervour and depression. + +'We've known each other since we were boy and girl. That's what makes +the difficulty, perhaps. We know each other too well. When she was a +child of fourteen, I was already in the Guards, and I used to try and +tackle her--because no one else would. Her father was dead. Her mother +had no influence with her; and Willy was too lazy. So I tried my hand. +And I find myself doing the same thing now. But of course it's +fatal--it's fatal!' + +Nelly tried to cheer him up, but she was not herself very hopeful. She, +perceived too clearly the martinet in him and the rebel in Cicely. If +something were suddenly to throw them together, some common interest or +emotion, each might find the other's heart in a way past undoing. On the +other hand the jarring habit, once set up, has a way of growing worse, +and reducing everything else to dust and ashes. Finally she wound up +with a timid but emphatic counsel. + +'Please--please--don't be sarcastic.' + +He looked injured. + +'I never am!' + +Nelly laughed. + +'You don't know when you are. And be very nice to her this afternoon.' + +'How can I, if she shews me at once that I'm unwelcome? You haven't +answered my question.' + +He was standing ready for departure. Nelly's face changed--became all +sad and tender pity. + +'You must ask it yourself!' she said eagerly, 'Go on asking it. It would +be too--too dreadful, wouldn't it?--to miss everything--by being proud, +or offended, for nothing----' + +'What do you mean by everything?' + +'You know,' she said, after a moment, shielding her eyes as they looked +into the fire; 'I'm sure you know. It _is_ everything.' + +As he walked back to the cottage, he found himself speculating not so +much about his own case as about his friend's. Willy was certainly in +love. And Nelly Sarratt was as softly feminine as Cicely was mannish +and strong. But he somehow did not feel that Willy's chances were any +safer than his own. + +A car arrived at one o'clock bringing Cicely, much wrapped up in fur +coat and motor-veils. She came impetuously into the sitting-room, and +seemed to fill it. It took some time to peel her and reduce her to the +size of an ordinary mortal. She then appeared in a navy-blue coat and +skirt, with navy-blue boots buttoned almost to the knees. The skirt was +immensely full and immensely short. When the strange erection to which +the motor-veil was attached was removed, Cicely showed a dark head with +hair cut almost short, and parted on the left side. Her eyebrows were +unmistakably blackened, her lips unmistakably--strengthened; and Nelly +saw at once that her guest was in a very feverish and irritated +condition. + +'Are you alone?' said Cicely, glancing imperiously round her, when the +disrobing was done. + +'Bridget is here.' + +'What are you going to do this afternoon?' + +'Can't we have a walk, you and I, together?' + +'Of course we can. Why should we be bothered with anyone else?' + +'I suppose,' said Nelly timidly--'they will come in to tea?' + +'"They"? Oh! you mean Willy and Captain Marsworth? It is such a pity +Willy can't find somebody more agreeable for these Sundays.' + +Cicely threw herself back in her chair, and lifted a navy-blue boot to +the fire. + +'More agreeable than Captain Marsworth?' + +'Exactly. Willy can't do anything without him, when he's in these parts; +and it spoils everything!' + +Nelly dropped a kiss on Cicely's hair, as she stood beside her. + +'Why didn't you put off coming till next week?' + +'Why should I allow my plans to be interfered with by Captain +Marsworth?' said Cicely, haughtily. 'I came to see _you_!' + +'Well, we needn't see much of him,' said Nelly, soothingly, as she +dropped on a stool beside her friend. + +'I'm not going to be kept out of the cottage, by Captain Marsworth, all +the same!' said Cicely hastily. 'There are several books there I want.' + +'Oh, Cicely, what have you been doing?' said Nelly, laying her head on +her guest's knees. + +'Doing? Nothing that I hadn't a perfect right to do. But I suppose--that +very particular gentleman--has been complaining?' + +Nelly looked up, and met an eye, fiercely interrogative, yet trying hard +not to be interrogative. + +'I've been doing my best to pick up the pieces.' + +'Then he has been complaining?' + +'A little narrative of facts,' said Nelly mildly. + +'Facts--_facts_!' said Cicely, with the air of a disturbed lioness. 'As +if a man whose ideas of manners and morals date from about--a million +years before the Flood.' + +'Dear!--there weren't any manners or morals a million years before the +Flood.' + +Cicely drew a breath of exasperation. + +'It's all very well to laugh, but if you only knew how _impossible_ that +man is!' + +'Then why not get a Sunday free from him?' + +Cicely flushed against her will, and said nothing. Nelly's black eyes +observed her with as much sarcasm in their sweetness as she dared to +throw into them. She changed her tone. + +'Don't go to the cottage this afternoon, Cicely.' + +'Why?' The voice was peremptory. + +'Well, because----' Nelly described Farrell's chance meeting with the +Stewarts and the inevitable invitation. Cicely's flush deepened. But she +tried to speak carelessly. + +'Of course, the merest device on that girl's part! She arranged it all.' + +'I really don't think she did.' + +'Ah, well, _you_ haven't seen what's been going on. A more shameless +pursuit----' + +Cicely stopped abruptly. There was a sudden sparkle in Nelly's look, +which seemed to shew that the choice of the word 'pursuit' had been +unlucky. + +Miss Farrell quieted down. + +'Of course,' she said, with a very evident attempt to recapture whatever +dignity might be left on the field, 'neither Willy nor I like to see an +old friend throwing himself away on a little pink and white nonentity +like Daisy Stewart. We can't be expected to smile upon it.' + +'But I understand, from one of the parties principally concerned, that +there is really nothing in it!' said Nelly, smiling. + +'One of the perjuries I suppose at which Jove laughs!' said Cicely +getting up, and hastily rearranging her short curls with the help of +various combs, before the only diminutive looking-glass the farm +sitting-room provided. 'However, we shall see what happens. I have no +doubt Miss Daisy has arranged the proposal scene for this very +afternoon. We shall be in for the last act of the play.' + +'Then you _are_ going to the cottage?' + +'Certainly!' said Cicely, with a clearing brow. 'Don't let's talk any +more about it. Do give me some lunch. I'm ravenous. Ah, here's your +sister!' + +For through a back window looking on what had once been a farm-yard, and +was now a small garden, Cicely saw Bridget emerge from the rebuilt +outhouse where an impromptu study had been devised for her, and walk +towards the farm. + +'I say, what's happened to your sister?' + +'Happened to her? What do you mean?' + +'She looks so much older.' + +'I suppose she's been working too hard,' said Nelly, remorsefully. 'I +wish I knew what it was all about.' + +'Well, I can tell you'--said Cicely laughing and whispering--'that +Willy doesn't think it's about anything in particular!' + +'Hush!' said Nelly, with a pained look. 'Perhaps we shall all turn out +to be quite wrong. We shall discover that it was something--' + +'Desperately interesting and important? Not it! But I'm going to be as +good as good. You'll see.' + +And when Bridget appeared, Cicely did indeed behave herself with +remarkable decorum. Her opinion was that Nelly's strange sister had +grown more unlike other people than ever since she had last seen her. +She seemed to be in a perpetual brown study, which was compatible, +however, with a curious watchfulness which struck Cicely particularly. +She was always aware of any undercurrent in the room--of anyone going in +or out--of persons passing in the road. At lunch she scarcely opened her +lips, but Cicely was all the time conscious of being observed. After +luncheon Bridget got up abruptly, and said she was going down to +Grasmere to post a letter. + +'Oh, then,' said Nelly--'you can ask if there are any for me.' + +For there was no delivery at the farm on Sunday morning. Bridget nodded, +and they soon saw her emerge from the farm gate and take the Grasmere +road. + +'I must say your sister seems greatly to prefer her own company to +ours,' said Cicely, lighting her cigarette. + +Again Nelly looked distressed. + +'She was always like that,' she said at last. 'It doesn't really mean +anything.' + +'Do I know you well enough to ask whether you get on with her?' + +Nelly coloured. 'I try my best'--she said, rather despairingly. Then she +added--'she does all sorts of things for me that I'm too lazy to do for +myself!' + +'I believe she likes Willy better than most people!' laughed Cicely. +'I'm not suggesting, please, that she has designs upon him. But she is +certainly more forthcoming to him than to anybody else, isn't she?' + +Nelly did not reply. The remark only clouded her look still more. For +her inner mind was perfectly aware of Bridget's attitude towards William +Farrell, and understood it only too well. She knew by this time, past +any doubt, that Bridget was hungry for the Farrell wealth, and was +impatient with herself as a little fool who had not yet made certain of +it. If she stuck to her purpose--if she went away and cut off all +communication with Carton--Bridget would probably quarrel with her for +good. + +Would she stick to her purpose? Her mind was miserably swaying to and +fro. She felt morally as she had once felt--physically--on a summer +afternoon long before, when she, who could not swim, had gone +imperceptibly out of her depth, while bathing, and had become suddenly +aware of a seaward current, carrying her away. No help was near. For +five minutes, which had seemed five years, she had wrestled against the +deadly force, which if her girlish strength had been a fraction less, +would have swept her out, a lifeless plaything to the open sea. +Spiritually, it was the same now. Farrell's will, and--infinitely less +important, but still, to be reckoned with--Bridget's will, were pressing +her hard. She did not know if she could keep her footing. + +Meanwhile Cicely, in complete ignorance of the new and agonised tension +in Nelly's mind, was thinking only of her own affairs. As soon as her +after-luncheon cigarette was done, she sprang up and began to put on her +hat. + +'So you _are_ going to the cottage?' said Nelly. + +'Certainly. How do you like my boots?' + +She held up one for inspection. + +'I don't like them!' + +'Fast, you think? Ah, wait till you see my next costume! High Russian +boots, delicious things, up to there!' Cicely indicated a point above +the knee, not generally reached by the female boot--'hand-painted and +embroidered--with tassels--you know!--corduroy trousers!' + +'Cicely!--you won't!' + +'Shan't I--and a pink jersey, the new shade? I saw a friend of mine in +this get-up, last week. Ripping! Only she had red hair, which completed +it. Perhaps I might dye mine!' + +They sallied forth into a mild winter afternoon. Nelly would have +avoided the cottage and Farrell if she could, but Cicely had her own way +as usual. Presently they turned into a side lane skirting the tarn, from +which the cottage and its approaches could be seen, at a distance. From +the white-pillared porch, various figures were emerging, four in all. + +Cicely came to a stop. + +'There, you see!' she said, in her sharpest voice--'Look there!' For two +of the figures, whom it was easy to identify as Captain Marsworth and +Miss Stewart, diverging from the other pair, went off by themselves in +the direction of Skelwith, with a gay wave of the hand to the old Rector +and Farrell left behind. + +Cicely's sudden scarlet ebbed in a moment, leaving her quite white. She +walked on with difficulty, her eyes on the ground. Nelly dared not +address her, or slip a sympathising hand into hers. And it was too late +to retreat. Farrell had perceived them, and he and his companion came +towards them. Cicely pulled herself rapidly together. + +Nelly too had need of a minute or two's recollection before Farrell +joined them. He and she were still to meet as usual, while meeting was +possible--wasn't that how it stood? After all, her new plans could not +be made in a moment. She had promised nothing; but he had +promised--would she be able to hold him to it? Her heart trembled as he +came nearer. + +But he met her in a sunny mood, introducing her to the white-haired old +clergyman, and watching Cicely with eyes that shewed a hidden amusement. + +'The other two seemed to have some private business to discuss,' he said +carelessly. 'So they've got rid of us for a while. They're walking round +the other side of the tarn and will join us at the top of Red Bank. At +least if you're up to a walk?' + +He addressed Nelly, who could do nothing but assent, though it meant a +tête-à -tête with him, while Cicely and the old Rector followed. + +Mr. Stewart found Miss Farrell anything but an agreeable companion. He +was not a shrewd observer, and the love-affairs especially of his +fellow-creatures were always a surprise and a mystery to him. But he +vaguely understood that his little granddaughter was afraid of Miss +Farrell and did not get on with her. He, too, was afraid of Cicely and +her sharp tongue, while her fantastic dress and her rouge put him in +mind of passages in the prophet Ezekiel, the sacred author of whom he +was at that moment making a special study with a view to a Cambridge +University sermon. It would be terrible if Daisy were ever to take to +imitating Miss Farrell. He was a little disturbed about Daisy lately. +She had been so absent-minded, and sometimes--even--a little flighty. +She had forgotten the day before, to look out some passages for him; and +there was a rent in his old overcoat she had not mended. He was +disagreeably conscious of it. And what could she have to say to Captain +Marsworth? It was all rather odd--and annoying. He walked in a +preoccupied silence. + +Farrell and Nelly meanwhile were, it seemed, in no lack of conversation. +He told her that he might possibly be going to France, in a week or two, +for a few days. The Allied offensive on the Somme was apparently +shutting down for the winter. 'The weather in October just broke +everybody's heart, vile luck! Nothing to be done but to make the winter +as disagreeable to the Boche as we can, and to go on piling up guns and +shells for the spring. I'm going to look at hospitals at X---' he named +a great base camp--'and I daresay they'll let me have a run along some +bit of the front, if there's a motor to be had.' + +Nelly stopped abruptly. He could see the colour fluctuating in her +delicate face. + +'You're going to X---? You--you might see Dr. Howson?' + +'Howson?' he said, surprised. 'Do you know him? Yes, I shall certainly +see Howson. He's now the principal surgeon at one of the General +Hospitals there, where I specially want to look at some new splints +they've been trying.' + +Nelly moved on without speaking for a little. At last she said, almost +inaudibly-- + +'He promised me--to make enquiries.' + +'Did he?' Farrell spoke in the grave, deep voice he seemed to keep for +her alone, which was always sweet to her ear. 'And he has never +written?' She shook her head. 'But he would have written--instantly--you +may be quite sure, if there had been the slightest clue.' + +'Oh yes, I know, I know,' she said hastily. + +'Give me any message for him you like--or any questions you'd like me to +ask.' + +'Yes'--she said, vaguely. + +It seemed to him she was walking languidly, and he was struck by her +weary look. The afternoon had turned windy and cold with gusts of rain. +But when he suggested an immediate return to the cottage, Nelly would +have none of it. + +'We were to meet Captain Marsworth and Miss Stewart. Where are they?' + +They emerged at the moment from the cottage grounds, upon the high road; +Farrell pointed ahead, and Nelly saw Marsworth and Miss Stewart walking +fast up the hill before them, and evidently in close conversation. + +'What can they have to talk about?' said Nelly, wondering. + +'Wouldn't you like to know!' + +'You're not going to tell me?' + +'Not a word.' + +His eyes laughed at her. They walked on beside each other, strangely +content. And yet, with what undercurrents of sensitive and wounded +consciousness on her side, of anxiety on his! + +At the top of Red Bank they came up with Marsworth and Miss Stewart. +Nelly's curiosity was more piqued than ever. If all that Marsworth had +said to her was true, why this evident though suppressed agitation on +the girl's part, and these shades of mystery in the air? Daisy Stewart +was what anybody would have called 'a pretty little thing.' She was +small, round-cheeked, round-eyed, round-limbed; light upon her feet; +shewing a mass of brown hair brushed with gold under her hat, and the +fresh complexion of a mountain maid. Nelly guessed her age about three +and twenty, and could not help keenly watching the meeting between her +and Cicely. She saw Cicely hold out a limp hand, and the girl's timid, +almost entreating eyes. + +But, the next moment, her attention was diverted to a figure slowly +mounting the steep hill from Grasmere, on the top of which the cottage +party were now standing, uncertain whether to push on for their walk, or +to retreat homewards before the increasing rain. The person approaching +was Bridget. As she perceived her, Nelly was startled into quick +recollection of Cicely's remark of the morning--'Your sister seems to +have grown much older.' But not only older--_different!_ Nelly could not +have analysed her own impression, but it was so painful that she ran +down to meet her. + +'Bridget, it's too far for you to Grasmere!--and coming back up this +awful hill! You look quite done. Do go home and lie down, or will you +come to the cottage for tea first? It's nearer.' + +Bridget looked at her coldly. + +'Why do you make such a fuss? I'm all right. But I'm not coming to the +cottage, thank you. I've got things to do.' + +The implication was that everyone else was idle. Nelly drew back, +rebuffed. And as Bridget reached the group at the top of the hill it was +as though the rain and darkness suddenly deepened. All talk dropped. +Farrell, indeed, greeted her courteously, introduced her to the +Stewarts, and asked her to come back to the cottage for tea. But he was +refused as Nelly had been. Bridget went on her way alone towards the +farm. But after parting from the others she turned back suddenly to +say--'There were no letters for you, Nelly.' + +'What a mercy!' said Farrell, as Bridget disappeared. 'Don't you think +so? I never have any forwarded here.' + +'Ah, but you get so many,' said Nelly wistfully. 'But still, letters +don't matter to me--now.' + +He said nothing, but it roused in him a kind of fierce soreness that she +would always keep the past so clearly before herself and him. + +Violent rain came on, and they hurried back to the cottage for shelter. +Cicely was talking extravagantly all the time. She was tired to death, +she said, of everything patriotic. The people who prattled about +nursing, and the people who prattled about the war--especially the +people who talked about women's work--were all equally intolerable. She +meant to give up everything very soon. Somebody must amuse themselves, +or the world would go mad. Farrell threw at her some brotherly jibes; +the old Rector looked scared; and Marsworth said nothing. + + * * * * * + +There were bright fires in the cottage, and the dripping walkers were +glad to crowd round them; all except Cicely and Marsworth, who seemed to +Nelly's watching sense to be oddly like two wrestlers pacing round each +other, and watching the opportunity to close. Each would take out a book +from the shelves and put it back, or take up a newspaper from the +tables--crossing repeatedly, but never speaking. And meanwhile Nelly +also noticed that Daisy Stewart, now that Cicely's close contact was +removed, was looking extraordinarily pretty. Radiance, not to be +concealed, shone from her charming childish face. + +Suddenly Marsworth paused in front of Cicely, intercepting her as she +was making for the door. + +'Would you be an angel, Miss Farrell, and help me to find a particular +Turner drawing I want to see? Willy says it's in the studio somewhere.' + +Cicely paused, half haughty, half irresolute. + +'Willy knows his way about the portfolios much better than I do.' + +Marsworth came nearer, and leaning one hand on the table between them, +bent over to her. He was smiling, but there was emotion in his look. + +'Willy is looking after these people. Won't you?' + +Cicely considered. + +'All right!' she said carelessly, at last, and led the way. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +The studio was empty. A wood fire burnt on the wide hearth, making a +pleasant glow in the wintry twilight. Cicely seated herself on the end +of a sofa, crossed her feet, and took out a cigarette. But to +Marsworth's intense relief she had taken off the helmet-like erection +she called a hat, and her black curly hair strayed as it pleased about +her brow and eyes. + +'Well?' she said, at last, looking at him coolly. Marsworth could not +help laughing. He brought a chair, and placed it where he could see her +from below, as he lay back in it, his hands behind his head. + +'Of course, you don't want to look at the portfolio,' she resumed, 'that +was your excuse. You want to tell me of your engagement to Miss +Stewart.' + +Marsworth laughed again. Her ear caught what seemed to be a note of +triumph. + +'Make haste, please!' she said, breathing quickly. 'There isn't very +much time.' + +His face changed. He sat up, and held out his hand to her. + +'Dear Cicely, I want you to do something for me.' + +But she put her own behind her back. + +'Have you been quarrelling already? Because if you want me to make it +up, that really isn't my vocation.' + +He was silent a moment surveying her. Then he said quietly--'I want you +to help me. I want you to be kind to that little girl.' + +'Daisy Stewart? Thank you. But I've no gift at all for mothering babes! +Besides--she'll now have all the advice, and all the kindness she +wants.' + +Marsworth's lips twitched. + +'Yes, that's true--if you and I can help her out. Cicely!--aren't you a +great friend of Sir John Raine?' + +He named one of the chiefs of the Army Medical Department, a man whose +good word was the making of any aspirant in the field he ruled. + +Cicely looked rather darkly at her questioner. + +'What do you mean?' + +'I want you to help me get an appointment for somebody.' + +'For whom?' + +'For the man Daisy Stewart wants to marry.' + +Cicely could not conceal her start. + +'I don't like being mystified,' she said coldly. + +Marsworth allowed his smile to shew itself. + +'I'm not trying to mystify you in the least. Daisy Stewart has been +engaged for nearly a year to one of the house-surgeons in your +hospital--young Fellows. Nobody knows it--not Willy even. It has been +kept a dead secret, because that wicked old man the Rector won't have +it. Daisy makes him comfortable, and he won't give her up, if he can +help it. And as young Fellows has nothing but his present pay--a year +with board and lodging--it seemed hopeless. But now he has got his eye +on something.' + +And in a quiet business-like voice Marsworth put the case of the +penniless one--his qualifications, his ambitions, and the particular +post under the Army Medical Board on which he had set his hopes. If only +somebody with influence would give him a leg up! + +Cicely interrupted. + +'Does Willy know?' + +'No. You see, I have come to you first.' + +'How long have you known?' + +'Since my stay with them last autumn. I suspected something then, just +as I was leaving; and Miss Daisy confessed--when I was there in May. +Since then she seems to have elected me her chief adviser. But, of +course, I had no right to tell anybody anything.' + +'That is what you like--to advise people?' + +Marsworth considered it. + +'There was a time'--he said, at last, in a different voice, 'when my +advice used to be asked by someone else--and sometimes taken.' + +Cicely pretended to light another cigarette, but her slim fingers shook +a little. + +'And now--you never give it?' + +'Oh yes, I do,' he said, with sudden bitterness--'even unasked. I'm +always the same old bore.' + +There was silence. His right hand stole towards her left that was lying +limply over her knee. Cicely's eyes looking down were occupied with his +disabled arm, which, although much improved, was still glad to slip into +its sling whenever it was not actively wanted. + +But just as he was capturing her, Cicely sprang up. + +'I must go and see about Sir John Raine.' + +'Cicely--I don't care a brass farthing about Sir John Raine!' + +'But having once brought him in, I recommend you to stick to him,' said +Cicely, with teasing eyes. 'And don't go advising young women. It's not +good for the military. _I'm_ going to take this business in hand.' + +And she made for departure, but Marsworth got to the door first, and put +his back against it. + +'Find me the Turner, Cicely.' + +'A man who asks for a thing on false pretences shouldn't have it.' + +A silence. Then a meek voice said-- + +'Captain Marsworth, my brother, Sir William Farrell, will be requiring +my services at tea!' + +Marsworth moved aside and she forward. But as she neared him, he caught +her passionately in his arms and kissed her. She released herself, +crimson. + +'Do I like being kissed?' she said in a low voice--'do I? Anyway +don't do it again!--and if you dare to say a word yet--to anyone--' + +Her eyes threatened; but he saw in them revelations her pride could not +check, and would have disobeyed her at once; but she was too quick for +him. In a second she had opened the door and was gone. + +During the rest of the afternoon, her brother and Nelly watched Cicely's +proceedings with stupefaction; only equalled by the bewilderment of Miss +Daisy Stewart. For that young lady was promoted to the good graces of +Sir William's formidable sister with a rapidity and completeness which +only natural good manners and good sense could have enabled her to deal +with; considering the icy exclusion to which she had been so long +condemned. But as she possessed both, she took it very simply; always +with the same serene light in her grey eyes. + +Marsworth said to himself presently that young Fellows' chances were +good. But in truth he hardly remembered anything about them, except that +by the help of them he had kissed Cicely! And he had yet to find out +what that remarkable fact was to mean, either to himself or to her. She +refused to let him take her back to the farm, and she only gave him a +finger in farewell. Nor did she say a word of what had happened, even to +Nelly. + +Nelly spent again a very wakeful night. Farrell had walked home with +them, and she understood from him that, although he was going over early +to Carton the following morning, he would be at the cottage again +before many days were over. It seemed to her that in telling her so he +had looked at her with eyes that seemed to implore her to trust him. And +she, on hearing it, had been merely dumb and irresponsive, not +forbidding or repellent, as she ought to have been. The courage to wound +him to the quick--to leave him bereft, to go out into the desert +herself, seemed to be more and more oozing away from her. + +Yet there beside her bed, on the table which held her Testament, and the +few books--almost all given her by W.F.--to which she was wont to turn +in her wakeful hours, was George's photograph in uniform. About three +o'clock in the morning she lit her candle, and lay looking at it, till +suddenly she stretched out her hand for it, kissed it repeatedly, and +putting it on her breast, clasped her hands over it, and so fell asleep. + +But before she fell asleep, she was puzzled by the sounds in Bridget's +room next door. Bridget seemed to be walking about--pacing up and down +incessantly. Sometimes the steps would cease; only to begin again after +a while with the same monotony. What could be the matter with Bridget? +This vague worry about her sister entered into and heightened all +Nelly's other troubles. Yet all the same, in the end, she fell asleep; +and the westerly wind blowing over Wetherlam, and chasing wild flocks of +grey rain-clouds before him, found no one awake in the cottage or the +farm to listen to the concert he was making with the fells, but +Bridget--and Cicely. + + * * * * * + +Bridget Cookson had indeed some cause for wakefulness. Locked away in +the old workbox, where she kept the papers to which she attached +importance, was a letter bearing the imprint 'O.A.S.,' which had been +delivered to her on Sunday afternoon by the Grasmere post-mistress. It +ran as follows: + + +'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I know of course that you are fully convinced the +poor fellow we have here in charge has nothing to do with your +brother-in-law. But as you saw him, and as the case may throw light on +other cases of a similar nature, I thought I would just let you know +that owing apparently to the treatment we have been carrying out, there +are some very interesting signs of returning consciousness since your +visit, though nothing very definite as yet. He is terribly ill, and +physically I see no chance for him. But I think he _may_ be able to tell +us who he is before the end, in which case I will inform you, lest you +should now or at any future time feel the smallest misgiving as to your +own verdict in the matter. This is very unlikely, I know, for I +understand you were very decided; but still as soon as we have definite +information--if we get it--you may wish to inform poor Mrs. Sarratt of +your journey here. I hope she is getting stronger. She did indeed look +very frail when I saw her last. + +'Yours very truly, + +'ROBERT HOWSON.' + +Since the receipt of that letter Bridget's reflections had been more +disagreeable than any she had yet grappled with. In Nelly's company the +awfulness of what she had done did sometimes smite home to her. Well, +she had staked everything upon it, and the only possible course was to +brazen it out. That George should die, and die _quickly_--without any +return of memory or speech, was what she terribly and passionately +desired. In all probability he would die quickly; he might even now be +dead. She saw the thing perpetually as a race between his returning +mind--if he still lived, and it was returning--and his ebbing strength. +If she had lived in old Sicilian days, she would have made a waxen image +like the Theocritean sorceress, and put it by the fire, that as it +wasted, so George might waste. As it was, she passed her time during the +forty-eight hours after reading Howson's letter in a silent and +murderous concentration on one thought and wish--George Sarratt's +speedy death. + +What a release indeed for everybody!--if people would only tell the +truth, and not dress up their real feelings and interests in stale +sentimentalisms. Farrell made happy at no very distant date; Nelly +settled for life with a rich man who adored her; her own future +secured--with the very modest freedom and opportunity she craved:--all +this on the one side--futile tragedy and suffering on the other. None +the less, there were moments when, with a start, she realised what other +people might think of her conduct. But after all she could always plead +it was a mistake--an honest mistake. Are there not constantly cases in +the law courts, which shew how easy it is to fail in identifying the +right person, or to persist in identifying the wrong one? + +During the days before Farrell returned, the two sisters were alone +together. Bridget would gladly have gone away out of sight and hearing +of Nelly. But she did not dare to leave the situation--above all, the +postman--unwatched. Meanwhile Nelly made repeated efforts to break down +the new and inexplicable barrier which seemed to have arisen between +herself and Bridget. Why would Bridget always sit alone in that chilly +outside room, which even with a large fire seemed to Nelly +uninhabitable? She tried to woo her sister, by all the small devices in +her power. + +'Why won't you come and sit with me a bit, Bridget? I'm so dull all +alone!'--she would say when, after luncheon or high tea, Bridget showed +signs of immediately shutting herself up again. + +'I can't. I must do some work.' + +'Do tell me what you're doing, Bridget?' + +'Oh, you wouldn't understand.' + +'Well, other people don't always think me a born idiot!'--Nelly would +say, not without resentment. 'I really could understand, Bridget, if +you'd try.' + +'I haven't the time.' + +'And you're killing yourself with so many hours of it. Why should you +slave so? If you only would come and help me sometimes with the Red +Cross work, I'd do any needlework for you, that you wanted.' + +'You know I hate needlework.' + +'You're not doing anything--not _anything_--for the war, Bridget!' Nelly +would venture, wistfully, at last. + +'There are plenty of people to do things for the war. I didn't want the +war! Nobody asked my opinion.' + +And presently the door would shut, and Nelly would be left to watch the +torrents of rain outside, and to endeavour by reading and drawing, by +needlework and the society of her small friend Tommy, whenever she could +capture him, to get through the day. She pined for Hester, but Hester +was doing Welfare work in a munition factory at Leeds, and could not be +got at. + +So there she sat alone, brooding and planning, too timid to talk to +Bridget of her own schemes, and, in her piteous indecision, longing +guiltily for Farrell's return. Meanwhile she had written to several +acquaintances who were doing V.A.D. work in various voluntary hospitals, +to ask for information. + +Suddenly, after the rain came frost and north wind--finally snow; the +beginning in the north of the fiercest winter Western Europe has known +for many years. Over heights and dales alike spread the white Leveller, +melting by day in the valley bottoms, and filling up his wastage by +renewed falls at night. Nelly ventured out sometimes to look at the high +glories of Wetherlam and the Pikes, under occasional gleams of sun. +Bridget never put a foot out of doors, except when she went to the +garden gate to look for the postman in the road, and take the letters +from him. + +At last, one evening, when after a milder morning a bitter blast from +the north springing up at dusk had, once more, sent gusts of snow +scudding over the fells, Nelly's listening ear heard the well-known step +at the gate. She sprang up with a start of joy. She had been so lonely, +so imprisoned with her own sad thoughts. The coming of this kind, strong +man, so faithful to his small friend through all the stress of his busy +and important life, made a sudden impression upon her, which brought the +tears to her eyes. She thought of Carton, of its splendid buildings, and +the great hospital which now absorbed them; she seemed to see Farrell as +the king of it all, the fame of his doings spreading every month over +the north, and wiping out all that earlier conception of him as a +dilettante and an idler of which she had heard from Hester. And yet, +escaping from all that activity, that power, that constant interest and +excitement, here he was, making use of his first spare hour to come +through the snow and the dark, just to spend an hour with Nelly Sarratt, +just to cheer her lonely little life. + +Nelly ran to the window and opened it. + +'Is that really you?' she called, joyously, while the snow drifted +against her face. + +Farrell, carrying a lantern, was nearing the porch. The light upon his +face as he turned shewed her his look of delight. + +'I'm later than I meant, but the roads are awful. May I walk in?' + +She ran down to meet him; then hung back rather shyly in the passage, +while he took off his overcoat and shook the snow from his beard. + +'Have you any visitors?' he asked, still dusting away the snow. + +'Only Bridget. I asked Hester, but she couldn't come.' + +He came towards her along the narrow passage, to the spot where she +stood tremulous on the lowest step of the stairs. A lamp burning on a +table revealed her slight figure in black, the warm white of her throat +and face, the grace of the bending head, and the brown hair wreathed +about it. He saw her as an exquisite vision in a dim light and shade. +But it was not that which broke down his self-control so much as the +pathetic look in her dark eyes, the look of one who is glad, and yet +shrinks from her own gladness--tragically conscious of her own weakness, +and yet happy in it. It touched his heart so profoundly that whether +the effect was pain or pleasure he could not have told. But as he +reached the step, moved by an irresistible impulse, he held out his +arms, and she melted into them. For one entrancing instant, he held her +close and warm upon his breast, while the world went by. + +But the next moment she had slipped away, and was sitting on the step, +her face in her hands. + +He did not plead or excuse himself. He just stood by her endeavouring to +still and control his pulses--till at last she looked up. The lamp +shewed her his face, and the passion in it terrified her. For there had +been no passion in her soft and sudden yielding. Only the instinct of +the child that is forsaken and wants comforting, that feels love close +to it, and cannot refuse it. + +'There, you see!' she said, desperately--'You see--I must go!' + +'No! It's I who must go. Unless '--his voice sank almost to a +whisper--'Nelly!--couldn't you--marry me? You should never, never regret +it.' + +She shook her head, and as she dropped her face again in her hands he +saw a shudder run through her. At the sight his natural impulse was to +let passion have its way, to raise her in his arms again, and whisper to +her there in the dark, as love inspired him, his cheek on hers. But he +did not venture. He was well aware of something intangible and +incalculable in Nelly that could not be driven. His fear of it held him +in check. He knew that she was infinitely sorry for him and tender +towards him. But he knew too that she was not in love with him. Only--he +would take his chance of that, if only she would marry him. + +'Dear!' he said, stooping to her, and touching her dark curls with his +hand. 'Let's call in Hester! She's dreadfully wise! If you were with her +I should feel happy--I could wait. But it is when I see you so lonely +here--and so sad--nobody to care for you!--that I can't bear it!' + +Through the rush of the wind, a sound of someone crossing the yard +behind the farm came to their ears. Nelly sprang to her feet and led the +way upstairs. Farrell followed her, and as they moved, they heard +Bridget open the back door and come in. + +The little sitting-room was bright with lamp and fire, and Farrell, +perceiving that they were no longer to be alone, and momentarily +expecting Bridget's entrance, put impatience aside and began to talk of +his drive from Carton. + +'The wind on Dunmail Raise was appalling, and the lamps got so +be-snowed, we had to be constantly clearing them. But directly we got +down into the valley it mended, and I managed to stop at the +post-office, and ask if there were any letters for you. There were +two--and a telegram. What have I done with them?' He began to search in +his pockets, his wits meanwhile in such a whirl that it was difficult +for him to realise what he was doing. + +At that point Bridget opened the door. He turned to shake hands with +her, and then resumed his fumbling. + +'I'm sure they did give them to me'--he said, in some concern,--'two +letters and a telegram.' + +'A telegram!' said Bridget, suddenly, hurrying forward,--'it must be for +me.' + +She peremptorily held out her hand, and as she did so, Nelly caught +sight of her sister. Startled out of all other thoughts she too made a +step forward. What _was_ wrong with Bridget? The tall, gaunt woman stood +there livid, her eyes staring at Farrell, her hand unsteady as she +thrust it towards him. + +'Give me the telegram, please! I was expecting one,' she said, trying to +speak as usual. + +Farrell turned to her in surprise. + +'But it wasn't for you, Miss Cookson. It was for Mrs. Sarratt. I saw the +address quite plainly. Ah, here they are. How stupid of me! What on +earth made me put them in that pocket.' + +He drew out the letters and the telegram. Bridget said again--'Give it +me, please! I know it's for me!' And she tried to snatch it. Farrell's +face changed. He disliked Bridget Cookson heartily, mainly on Nelly's +account, and her rude persistence nettled a temper accustomed to +command. He quietly put her aside. + +'When your sister has read it, Miss Cookson, she will no doubt let you +see it. As it happens, the post-mistress made me promise to give it to +Mrs. Sarratt myself. She seemed interested--I don't know why.' + +Nelly took it. Farrell--who began to have some strange misgiving--stood +between her and Bridget. Bridget made no further movement. Her eyes were +fixed on Nelly. + +Nelly, bewildered by the little scene and by Bridget's extraordinary +behaviour, tore open the brown envelope, and read slowly--'Please come +at once. Have some news for you. Your sister will explain. Howson, Base +Headquarters, X------, France.' + +'Howson?' said Nelly. Then the colour began to ebb from her face. 'Dr. +Howson?' she repeated. 'What news? What does he mean? _Oh_!'--the cry +rang through the room--'_it's George_!--it's George! he's +found!--he's found!' + +She thrust the telegram piteously into Farrell's hands. He read it, and +turned to Bridget. + +'What does Dr. Howson mean, Miss Cookson, and why does he refer Mrs. +Sarratt to you?' + +For some seconds she could not make her pale lips reply. Finally, she +said--'That's entirely my own affair, Sir William. I shall tell my +sister, of course. But Nelly had better go at once, as Dr. Howson +advises. I'll go and see to things.' + +She turned slowly away. Nelly ran forward and caught her. + +'Oh, Bridget--don't go--you mustn't go! What news is it? Bridget, tell +me!--you couldn't--you _couldn't_ be so cruel--not to tell me--if you +knew anything about George!' + +Bridget stood silent. + +'Oh, what can I do--what can I do?' cried Nelly. + +Then her eyes fell on the letters still in her hand. She tore one +open--and read it--with mingled cries of anguish and joy. Farrell dared +not go near her. There seemed already a gulf between her and him. + +'It's from Miss Eustace'--she said, panting, as she looked up at last, +and handed the letter to him--it's George--he's alive--they've heard +from France--he asks for me--but--but--he's dying.' + +Her head dropped forward a little. She caught at the back of a chair, +nearly fainting. But when Farrell approached her, she put up a hand in +protest. + +'No, no,--I'm all right. But, Bridget, Miss Eustace says--you've +actually _seen_ him--you've been to France. When did you go?' + +'About three weeks ago,' said Bridget, after a moment's pause. 'Oh, of +course I know'--she threw back her head defiantly--'you'll all set on +me--you'll all blame me. But I suppose I may be mistaken like anybody +else--mayn't I? I didn't think the man I saw was George--I didn't! And +what was the good of disturbing your mind?' + +But as she told the lie, she told it so lamely and unconvincingly that +neither of the other two believed it for a moment. Nelly stood +up--tottering--but mistress of herself. She looked at Farrell. + +'Sir William--can you take me to Windermere, for the night-train? I know +when it goes--10.20. I'll be ready--by nine.' She glanced at the clock, +which was just nearing seven. + +'Of course,' said Farrell, taking up his hat. 'I'll go and see to the +motor. But'--he looked at her with entreaty--'you can't go this long +journey alone!' + +The words implied a bitter consciousness that his own escort was +impossible. Nelly did not notice it. She only said impatiently-- + +'But, of course, I must go alone.' + +She stood silent--mastering the agony within--forcing herself to think +and will. When the pause was over, she said quietly--'I will be quite +ready at nine.' And then mechanically--'It's very good of you.' + +He went away, passing Bridget, who stood with one foot on the fender, +staring down into the fire. + +When the outer door had closed upon him, Nelly looked at her sister. She +was trembling all over. + +'Bridget--_why_ did you do it?' The voice was low and full of horror. + +'What do you mean? I made a mistake--that's all!' + +'Bridget--you _knew_ it was George! You couldn't be mistaken. Miss +Eustace says--in the letter'--she pointed to it--'they asked you about +his hands. Do you remember how you used to mock at them?' + +'As if one could remember after a year and a half!' + +'No, you couldn't forget, Bridget--a thing like that--I know you +couldn't. And what made you do it! Did you think I had forgotten +George?' + +At that the tears streamed down her face, unheeded. She approached her +sister piteously. + +'Bridget, tell me what he looked like! Did you speak to him--did you see +his eyes open? Oh my poor George!--and I here--never thinking of +him'--she broke off incoherently, twisting her hands. 'Miss Eustace says +he was wounded in two places--severely--that she's afraid there's no +hope. Did they say that to you, Bridget--tell me!--for Heaven's sake +tell me!' + +'You'll make yourself ill,' said Bridget harshly. 'You'd better lie +down, and let me pack for you.' + +Nelly laughed out. + +'As if I'd ever let you do anything for me any more! No, that's done +with. You've been so accustomed to manage me all these years. You +thought you could manage me now--you thought you could let George +die--and I should never know--and you'd make me marry--William Farrell. +Bridget--_I hate you!'_ + +She broke off, shivering, but resumed almost at once--'I see it all--I +think I see it all. And now it's all done for between you and me. If +George dies, I shall never come back to live with you again. You'd +better make plans, Bridget. It's over for ever.' + +'You don't know what you're saying, now,' said Bridget, coldly. + +Nelly did not hear her, she was lost in a whirl of images and thoughts. +And governed by them she went up to Bridget again, thrusting her small +white face under her sister's eyes. + +'What sort of a room was he in, Bridget? Who was nursing him? Are you +sure he didn't know you? Did you call him by his name? Did you make him +understand?' + +'He knew nobody,' said Bridget, drawing back, against her will, before +the fire in Nelly's wild eyes. 'He was in a very good room. There was a +nurse sitting with him.' + +'Was he--was he very changed?' + +'Of course he was. If not, I should have known him.' + +Nelly half smiled. Bridget could never have thought that soft mouth +capable of so much scorn. But no words came. Then Nelly walked away to a +drawer where she kept her accounts, her cheque-book, and any loose money +she might be in possession of. She took out her cheque-book and some two +or three pounds that lay there. + +'If you want money, I can lend you some,' said Bridget, catching at the +old note of guardianship. + +'Thank you. But I shall not want it.' + +'Nelly, don't be a fool!' said Bridget, stung at last into speech. +'Suppose all you think is true--I don't admit it, mind--but suppose it's +true. How was I doing such a terrible wrong to you?--in the eyes, I +mean, of sensible people--in not disturbing your mind. Nobody +expected--that man I saw--to know anybody again--or to live more than a +few days. Even if I had been certain--and how could I be +certain?--wasn't it _reasonable_ to weigh one thing against another? You +know very well--it's childish to ignore it--what's been going on +here----' + +But she paused. Nelly, writing a letter, was not apparently concerned +with anything Bridget had been saying. It did not seem to have reached +her ears. A queer terror shot through Bridget. But she dismissed it. As +if Nelly could ever really get on without her. Little, feckless, +sentimental thing! + +Nelly finished her letter and put it up. + +'I have written to Sir William's agent, Bridget'--she said turning +towards her sister--'to say that I give up the farm. I shall pay the +servant. Hester will look after my things, and send them--when I want +them.' + +'Why Hester?' said Bridget, with something of a sneer. + +Nelly did not answer. She put up her letter, took the money and the +cheque-book and went out of the room. Bridget heard her call their one +servant, Mrs. Dowson, and presently steps ascended the stairs and +Nelly's door shut. The sound of the shutting door roused in her again +that avenging terror. Her first impulse was to go and force herself +into Nelly's room, so as to manage and pack for her as usual. But +something stopped her. She consoled herself by going down to the kitchen +to look after the supper. Nelly, of course, must have some food before +her night journey. + +Behind that shut door, Nelly was looking into the kind weather-beaten +face of Mrs. Dowson. + +'Mrs. Dowson, I'm going away to-night--and I'm not coming back. Sir +William knows.' + +Then she caught the woman's gnarled hands, and her own features began to +work. + +'Mrs. Dowson, they've found my husband! Did Sir William tell you? He's +not dead--he's alive--But he's very, very ill.' + +'Oh, you poor lamb!' cried Mrs. Dowson. 'No--Sir William tellt me nowt. +The Lord be gracious to you!' Bathed in sudden tears, she kissed one of +the hands that held hers, pouring out incoherent words of hope. But +Nelly did not cry, and presently she said firmly-- + +'Now, please, you must help me to pack. Sir William will be here at +nine.' + +Presently all was ready. Nelly had hunted out an old grey travelling +dress in which George had often seen her, and a grey hat with a veil. +She hastily put all her black clothes aside. + +'Miss Martin will send me anything I want. I have asked her to come and +fetch my things.' + +'But Miss Cookson will be seein' to that!' said Mrs. Dowson wondering. +Nelly made no reply. She locked her little box, and then stood upright, +looking round the small room. She seemed to be saying 'Good-bye' for +ever to the Nelly who had lived, and dreamed, and prayed there. She was +going to George--that was all she knew. + +Downstairs, Bridget was standing at the door of the little dining-room. +'I have put out some cold meat for you,' she said, stiffly. 'You won't +get anything for a long time.' + +Nelly acquiesced. She drank some tea, and ate as much as she could. +Neither she nor Bridget spoke, till Bridget, who was at the window +looking out into the snow, turned round to say--'Here's the motor.' + +Nelly rose, and tied her veil on closely. Mrs. Dowson brought her a +thick coat, which had been part of her trousseau, and wrapped her in it. + +'You had better take your grey shawl,' said Bridget. + +'I have it here, Miss,' said Mrs. Dowson, producing it. 'I'll put it +over her in the motor.' + +She disappeared to open the door to Sir William's knock. + +Nelly turned to her sister. + +'Good-bye, Bridget.' + +Bridget flamed out. + +'And you don't mean to write to me? You mean to carry out this absurd +plan of separation!' + +'I don't know what I shall do--till I have seen George,' said Nelly +steadily. 'He'll settle for me. Only you and I are not sisters any +more.' + +Bridget shrugged her shoulders, with some angry remark about 'theatrical +nonsense.' Nelly went out into the passage, threw her arms about Mrs. +Dowson's neck, for a moment, and then hurried out towards the car. It +stood there in the falling snow, its bright lights blazing on the bit of +Westmorland wall opposite, and the overhanging oaks, still heavy with +dead leaf. Farrell was standing at the door, holding a fur rug. He and +Mrs. Dowson tucked it in round Nelly's small cloaked figure. + +Then without a word, Farrell shut the door of the car, and took the seat +beside the driver. In another minute Bridget was watching the lights of +the lamps rushing along the sides of the lane, till at a sharp bend of +the road it disappeared. + +There was a break presently in the snow-fall, and as they reached the +shores of Windermere, Nelly was aware of struggling gleams of moonlight +on steely water. The anguish in her soul almost resented the break in +the darkness. She was going to George; but George was dying, and while +he had been lying there in his lonely suffering, she had been forgetting +him, and betraying him. The recollection of Farrell's embrace +overwhelmed her with a crushing sense of guilt. George indeed should +never know. But that made no difference to her own misery. + +The miles flew by. She began to think of her journey, to realise her +helplessness and inexperience in the practical things of life. She must +get her passport, and some money. Who would advise her, and tell her how +to get to France under war conditions? Would she be allowed to go by the +short sea passage? For that she knew a special permit was necessary. +Could she get it at once, or would she be kept waiting in town? The +notion of having to wait one unnecessary hour tortured her. Then her +thoughts fastened on Miss Eustace of the Enquiry Office, who had written +her the letter which had arrived simultaneously with Dr. Howson's +telegram. 'Let me know if I can be of any use to you, for your journey. +If there is anything you want to know that we can help you in, you had +better come straight to this office.' + +Yes, that she would do. But the train arrived in London at 7 A.M. And +she could not possibly see Miss Eustace before ten or eleven. She must +just sit in the waiting-room till it was time. And she must get some +money. She had her cheque-book and would ask Sir William to tell her how +to get a cheque cashed in London. She was ashamed of her own ignorance +in these small practical matters. + +The motor stopped. Sir William jumped down, but before he came to open +the door for her, she saw him turn round and wave his hand to two +persons standing outside the station. They hurried towards the motor, +and as Nelly stepped down from it, she felt herself grasped by eager +hands. + +'You poor darling! I thought we couldn't be in time. But we flew. Don't +trouble about anything. We've done it all.' + +Cicely!--and behind her Marsworth. + +Nelly drew back. + +'Dear Cicely!' she said faintly--'but I can manage--I can manage quite +well.' + +Resistance, however, was useless. Marsworth and Cicely, it seemed, were +going to London with her--Cicely probably to France; and Marsworth had +already telegraphed about her passport. She would have gladly gone by +herself, but she finally surrendered--for George's sake, that she might +get to him the quicker. + +Then everything was done for her. Amid the bustle of the departing +train, she was piteously aware of Farrell, and just before they started, +she leant out to give him her hand. + +'I will tell George all you have done for me,' she said, gulping down a +sob. + +He pressed her hand before releasing it, but said nothing. What was +there to say? Meanwhile, Cicely, to ease the situation, was chattering +hard, describing how Farrell had sent his chauffeur to Ambleside on a +motor bicycle, immediately after leaving Nelly, and so had got a +telephone message through to Cicely. + +'We had the small car out and ready in ten minutes, and, by good luck, +there was a motor-transport man on leave, who had come to see a brother +in the hospital. We laid hands on him, and he drove us here. But it's a +mercy we're not sitting on the Raise! You remember that heap of stones +on the top of the Raise, that thing they say is a barrow--the grave of +some old British party before the Flood?--well, the motor gave out +there! Herbert and the chauffeur sat under it in the snow and worked at +it. I thought the river was coming over the road, and that the wind +would blow us all away. But it'll be all right for your crossing +to-morrow--the storm will have quite gone down. Herbert thinks you'll +start about twelve o'clock,--and you'll be at the camp that same night. +Oh, isn't it wonderful!--isn't it _ripping_?' cried Cicely under her +breath, stooping down to kiss Nelly, while the two men talked at the +carriage window.--'You're going to get him home! We'll have the best men +in London to look after him. He'll pull through, you'll see--he'll pull +through!' + +Nelly sank into a seat and closed her eyes. Cicely's talk--why did she +call Marsworth 'Herbert'?--was almost unbearable to her. _She_ knew +through every vein that she was going across the Channel--to see George +die. If only she were in time!--if only she might hold him in her arms +once more! Would the train never go? + +Farrell, in spite of snow and storm, pushed his way back to Carton that +night. In that long motor drive a man took counsel with himself on whom +the war had laid a chastening and refining hand. The human personality +cannot spend itself on tasks of pity and service without taking the +colour of them, without rising insensibly to the height of them. They +may have been carelessly adopted, or imposed from without. But the mere +doing of them exalts. As the dyer's hand is 'subdued to what it works +in,' so the man that is always about some generous business for his +fellow-men suffers thereby, insensibly, a change, which is part of the +'heavenly alchemy' for ever alive in the world. It was so at any rate +with William Farrell. The two years of his hospital work--hard, honest +grappling with the problems of human pain and its relief--had made a far +nobler man of him. So now, in this solitary hour, he looked his +trouble--courageously, chivalrously--in the face. The crash of all his +immediate hopes was bitter indeed. What matter! Let him think only of +those two poor things about to meet in France. + +As to the future, he was well aware of the emotional depths in Nelly's +nature. George Sarratt's claim upon her life and memory would now be +doubly strong. For, with that long and intimate observation of the war +which his hospital experience had brought him, Farrell was keenly aware +of the merciful fact that the mere distance which, generally speaking, +the war imposes between the man dying on the battle-field and those who +love him at home, inevitably breaks the blow. The nerves of the woman +who loses her husband or her son are, at least, not tortured by the +actual sight of his wounds and death. The suffering is spiritual, and +the tender benumbing touch of religion or patriotism, or the remaining +affections of life, has less to fight with than when the physical senses +themselves are racked with acute memories of bodily wounds and bodily +death. It is not that sorrow is less deep, or memory less tenacious; but +both are less ruinous to the person sorrowing. So, at least, Farrell had +often seen it, among even the most loving and passionate of women. +Nelly's renascence in the quiet Westmorland life had been a fresh +instance of it; and he had good reason for thinking that, but for the +tragic reappearance of George Sarratt, it would not have taken very +long,--a few months more, perhaps--before she would have been persuaded +to let herself love, and be loved again. + +But now, every fibre in her delicate being--physical and +spiritual--would be racked by the sight of Sarratt's suffering and +death. And no doubt--pure, scrupulous little soul!--she would be +tormented by the thought of what had just passed between herself and +him, before the news from France arrived. He might as well look that in +the face. + +Well!--patience and time--there was nothing else to look to. He braced +himself to both, as he sped homeward through the high snowy roads, and +dropped through sleeping Keswick to Bassenthwaite and Carton. Then with +the sight of the hospital, the Red Cross flag drooping above its +doorway, as he drove up to it, the burden and interest of his great +responsibilities returned upon him. He jumped out to say a few cheery +words of thanks to his chauffeur, and went on with a rapid step to his +office on the ground floor, where he found important letters and +telegrams awaiting him. He dealt with them till far into the night. But +the thought of Nelly never really left him; nor that haunting physical +memory of her soft head upon his shoulder. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Of the weary hours which intervened between her meeting with Cicely and +Marsworth at Windermere station and her sight of Dr. Howson on the +rain-beaten quay at Bolougne, Nelly Sarratt could afterwards have given +no clear account. Of all the strings that were pulled, and the exalted +persons invoked, in order to place her as quickly as possible by the +side of her dying husband, she knew practically nothing. Cicely and +Marsworth, with Farrell to help them at the other end of a telegraph +wire, did everything. Passports and special permits were available in a +minimum of time. In the winter dawn at Euston Station, there was the +grey-headed Miss Eustace waiting; and two famous Army doctors journeyed +to Charing Cross a few hours later, on purpose to warn the wife of the +condition in which she was likely to find her husband, and to give her +kindly advice as to how she could help him most. The case had already +made a sensation at the Army Medical Headquarters; the reports on it +from France were being eagerly followed; and when the young wife +appeared from the north, her pathetic beauty quickened the general +sympathy. Nelly's path to France was smoothed in every possible way. No +Royalty could have been more anxiously thought for. + +But she herself realised scarcely anything about it. It was her nature +to be grateful, sweet, responsive; but her gratitude and her sweetness +during these hours were automatic, unconscious. She was the spectator, +so to speak, of a moving picture which carried her on with it, in which +she was merely passive. The crowded boat, the grey misty sea, the +destroyers to right and left, she was aware of them in one connection +only--as part of the process by which she and George were to meet again. + +But at last the boat was alongside the quays of the French port, and +through sheets of rain she saw the lights of a climbing town, and the +gleaming roadways of the docks. Crowds of men in khaki; a park of big +guns, their wet nozzles glittering under the electric lamps overhead; +hundreds of tethered horses; a long line of motor lorries;--the scene to +her was all a vague confusion, as Cicely, efficient and masterful as +usual, made a way for them both along the deck of the steamer through +close ranks of soldiers--a draft waiting their orders to disembark. Then +as they stepped on land, perception sharpened in a moment. A tall man in +khaki--whom she recognised as Dr. Howson--came eagerly forward. + +'Mrs. Sarratt!--I hope you're not too tired. Would you rather get some +food here, in the town, or push on at once?' + +'At once, please. How is he?' + +A pair of kind grey eyes looked down upon her sadly. + +'Very ill, _-very_ ill!--_but_ quite sensible. I know you will be +brave.' + +He carried her along the quay--while Cicely was taken possession of by a +nurse in uniform, who talked rapidly in an undertone. + +'I have two cars,' said Howson to Nelly--'You and I will go first. Our +head Sister, Miss Parrish, who has been in charge of the case for so +long, will bring Miss Farrell.' + +And as they reached the two waiting motors, Nelly found her hand grasped +by a comely elderly woman, in a uniform of grey and red. + +'He was quite comfortable when we left him, Mrs. Sarratt. There's a +wonderful difference, even since yesterday, in his _mind_. He's +beginning to remember everything. He knows you're coming. He said--"Give +her my dear love, and tell her I'm not going to have my supper till she +comes. She shall give it me." Think of that! It's like a miracle. Three +weeks ago, he never spoke, he knew nobody.' + +Nelly's white face trembled, but she said nothing. Howson put her into +the foremost car, and they were soon off, threading their way through +the busy streets of the base, while the Sister followed with Cicely. + +'Oh, it was _cruel_ not to let Mrs. Sarratt know earlier!' said the +Sister indignantly, in answer to a hurried question from Cicely as soon +as they were alone. 'She might have had three weeks with him, and now +there can only be a day or two. What was Miss Cookson about? Even if she +were just mistaken, she might at least have brought her sister over to +see for herself--instead of preventing it by every means in her power. A +most extraordinary woman!' + +Cicely felt her way in reply. She really knew nothing except what +Farrell had been able hurriedly to say to Marsworth at Windermere +station--which had been afterwards handed on to her. Farrell himself was +entirely mystified. 'The only motive I can suggest'--he had said to +Marsworth--'is that Miss Cookson had an insane dislike of her +brother-in-law. But, even so, why did she do it?' + +Why, indeed? Cicely now heard the whole story from her companion; and +her shrewd mind very soon began to guess at reasons. She had always +observed Bridget's complaisance towards her brother, and even towards +herself--a clumsy complaisance which had never appealed at all either to +her or him. And she had noticed many small traits and incidents that +seemed to shew that Bridget had resented her sister's marriage, and felt +bitterly that Nelly might have done far better for herself. Also that +there was a strong taste for personal luxury in Bridget, which seemed +entirely lacking in Nelly. + +'She wanted Willy's money!'--thought Cicely--'and couldn't get it for +herself. So when poor Sarratt disappeared, she saw a way of getting it +through Nelly. Not a bad idea!--if you are to have ideas of that kind. +But then, why behave like an idiot when Providence had done the thing +for you?' + +That was really the puzzle. George Sarratt was dying. Why not let poor +Nelly have her last weeks with him in peace, and then--in time--marry +her safely and lawfully to Willy? + +But Cicely had again some inkling of Bridget's probable reply. She had +not been intimate with Nelly for more than a year without realising that +she was one of those creatures--so rare in our modern world--who do in +truth live and die by their affections. The disappearance of her husband +had very nearly killed her. In the first winter after he was finally +reported as 'Missing--believed killed,' and when she had really +abandoned hope, the slightest accident--a bad chill--an attack of +childish illness--any further shock--might have slit the thin-spun life +in a few days or weeks. The Torquay doctor had told Hester that she was +on the brink of tuberculosis, and if she were exposed to infection would +certainly develop it. Since then she had gained greatly in vitality and +strength. If only Fate had left her alone! 'With happiness and Willy, +she'd have been all right!' thought Cicely, who was daily accustomed to +watch the effect of mind on body in her brother's hospital. But now, +with this fresh and deeper tragedy before her--tearing at the poor +little heart--crushing the life again out of the frail being--why, the +prospects of a happy ending were decidedly less. The odious Bridget +might after all have acted intelligibly, though abominably. + +As to the history of Sarratt's long disappearance, Cicely found that +very little was known. + +'We don't question him,' said the Sister. 'It only exhausts him; and it +wouldn't be any good. He may tell his wife something more, of his own +accord, but we doubt whether he knows much more than he told Dr. Howson. +He remembers being wounded at Loos--lying out undiscovered, he thinks +for two days--then a German hospital--and a long, long journey. And +that's practically all. But just lately--this week, actually!--Dr. +Howson has got some information, through a family of peasants living +near Cassel, behind the British lines. They have relations across the +Belgian border, and gradually they have discovered who the man was who +came over the frontier with Mr. Sarratt. He came from a farm, somewhere +between Brussels and Courtrai, and now they've managed to get a letter +through from his brother. You know the man himself was shot just as they +reached the British lines. But this letter really tells a good deal. The +brother says that they found Mr. Sarratt almost dead,--and, as they +thought, insane--in a wood near their house. He was then wearing the +uniform of a British officer. They guessed he was an escaped prisoner, +and they took him in and hid him. Then news filtered through to them of +two English officers who had made their escape from a hospital train +somewhere south-west of Brussels; one slightly wounded, and one +severely; the severely wounded man suffering also from shell-shock. And +the slightly wounded man was shot, while the other escaped. The train, +it was said, was lying in a siding at the time--at the further edge of +the forest bordering their farm. So, of course, they identified the man +discovered by them as the severely wounded officer. Mr. Sarratt must +have somehow just struggled through to their side of the forest, where +they found him. + +'What happened then, we can't exactly trace. He must have been there all +the winter. He was deaf and dumb, from nerve-shock, and could give no +account of himself at all. The men of the farm, two unmarried sons, were +good to him, but their old mother, whose family was German, always hated +his being there. She was in terror of the German military police who +used to ride over the farm, and one day, when her sons were away, she +took Mr. Sarratt's uniform, his identification disk, and all the +personal belongings she could find, and either burned or buried them. +The sons, who were patriotic Belgians, were however determined to +protect him, and no doubt there may have been some idea of a reward, if +they could find his friends. But they were afraid of their tyrannical +old mother, and of what she might do. So at last they made up their +minds to try somehow and get him over the French frontier, which was +not far off, and through the German lines. One of the brothers, whose +name was Benoit Desalles, to whom they say poor Mr. Sarratt was much +attached, went with him. They must have had an awful time, walking by +night, and hiding by day. Mr. Sarratt's wounds must have been in a bad +state, for they were only half healed when he escaped, and they had been +neglected all the winter. So how he dragged himself the distance he did, +the doctors can't imagine. And the peasants near the frontier from whom +we have got what information we have, have no knowledge at all of how he +and his Belgian guide finally got through the German lines. But when +they reached our lines, they were both, as Dr. Howson wrote to Miss +Cookson, in German uniforms. His people suppose that Benoit had stripped +some German dead, and that in the confusion caused in the German +line--at a point where it ran through a Belgian village--by a British +raid, at night, they got across the enemy trenches. And no doubt Benoit +had local knowledge which helped. + +'Then in the No Man's Land, between the lines, they were under both +shell and rifle-fire, till it was seen by our men that Benoit had his +hands up, and that the other was wounded. The poor Belgian was dragging +Mr. Sarratt who was unconscious, and at last--wasn't it ill-luck?--just +as our men were pulling them into the trench, Benoit was shot through +the head by a German sniper. That, at least, is how we now reconstruct +the story. As far as Mr. Sarratt is concerned, we let it alone. We have +no heart to worry him. Poor fellow--poor, gallant, patient fellow!' + +And the Sister's strong face softened, as Bridget had seen it soften at +Sarratt's bedside. + +'And there is really no hope for him?' asked Cicely after a time. The +Sister shook her head. + +'The wounds have never healed--and they drain his life away. The heart +can't last out much longer. But he's not in pain now--thank God! It's +just weakness. I assure you, everybody--almost--in this huge camp, asks +for him and many--pray for him.' The Sister's eyes filled with tears. +'And now that the poor wife's come in time, there'll be an excitement! I +heard two men in one of our wards discussing it this morning. "They do +say as Mrs. Sarratt will be here to-day," said one of them. "Well, +that's a bit of all right, ain't it?" said the other, and they both +smoked away, looking as pleased as Punch. You see Miss Cookson's +behaviour has made the whole thing so extraordinary.' + +Cicely agreed. + +'I suppose she thought it would be all over in a day or two,' she said, +half-absently. + +The Sister looked puzzled. + +'And that it would be better not to risk the effect on his wife? Of +course Mrs. Sarratt does look dreadfully delicate. So you _don't_ think +it was a mistake? It's very difficult to see how it could be! The hands +alone--one would think that anybody who really knew him must have +recognised them.' + +Cicely said no more. But she wondered how poor Nelly and her sister +would ever find it possible to meet again. + +Meanwhile, in the car ahead, Howson was gently and tenderly preparing +the mind of Nelly for her husband's state. He described to her also, the +first signs of Sarratt's returning consciousness--the excitement among +his doctors and nurses--the anxious waiting for the first words--the +first clear evidence of restored hearing. And then, at last, the dazed +question--'Where am I?'--and the perplexed effort to answer +Howson's--'Can you tell us your name and regiment?' + +Howson described the breathless waiting of himself and another doctor, +and then the slow coming of the words: 'My name is George Sarratt, +Lieutenant, 21st Lanchesters. But why----?' + +A look of bewilderment at nurses and doctors, and then again--sleep. + +'The next time he spoke, it was quite distinctly and of his own accord. +The nurse heard him saying softly--it was in the early morning--"I want +my wife--send for her." She told him you had been already sent for, and +he turned his head round at once and went to sleep.' + +Howson could hardly go on, so keenly did he realise the presence of the +woman beside him. The soft fluttering breath unmanned him. But by +degrees Nelly heard all there was to know; especially the details of +the rapid revival of hearing, speech, and memory, which had gone on +through the preceding three days. + +'And what is such a blessing,' said Howson, with the cheerfulness of the +good doctor--'is that he seems to be quite peaceful--quite at rest. He's +not unhappy. He's just waiting for you. They'll have given him an +injection of strychnine this evening to help him through.' + +'How long?' The words were just breathed into the darkness. + +'A day or two certainly--perhaps a week,' he said reluctantly. 'It's a +question of strength. Sometimes it lasts much longer than we expect.' + +He said nothing to her of her sister's visit. Instinctively he suspected +some ugly meaning in that story. And Nelly asked no questions. + +Suddenly, she was aware of lights in the darkness, and then of a great +camp marked out in a pattern of electric lamps, stretching up and away +over what seemed a wide and sloping hillside. Nelly put down the window +to see. + +'Is it here?' 'No. A little further on.' + +It seemed to her interminably further. The car rattled over the rough +pavement of a town, then through the darkness of woods--threading its +way through a confusion of pale roads--until, with a violent bump, it +came to a stop. + +In the blackness of the November night, the chauffeur, mistaking the +entrance to a house, had run up a back lane and into a sand-bank. + +'Do you hear the sea?' said Howson, as he helped Nelly to alight. +'There'll be wind to-night. But here we are.' + +She looked round her as they walked through a thin wood. To her right +beyond the bare trees was a great building with a glass front. She could +see lights within--the passing figures of nurses--rows of beds--and men +in bed jackets--high rooms frescoed in bright colours. + +'That used to be the Casino. Now it's a Red Cross Hospital. There are +always doctors there. So when we moved him away from the camp, we took +this little house close to the Hospital. The senior surgeon there can be +often in and out. He's looking after him splendidly.' + +A small room in a small house, built for summer lodgings by the sea; +bare wooden walls and floor; a stove; open windows through which came +the slow boom of waves breaking on a sandy shore; a bed, and in it an +emaciated figure, propped up. + +Nelly, as the door closed behind her, broke into a run like the soft +flight of a bird, and fell on her knees beside the bed. She had taken +off her hat and cloak. Excitement had kindled two spots of red in her +pale cheeks. The man in the bed turned his eyes towards her, and smiled. + +'Nelly!' + +Howson and the Sister went on tiptoe through a side door into another +room. + +'Kiss me, Nelly!' + +Nelly, trembling, put her soft lips to his. But as she did so, a chill +anguish struck her--the first bitterness of the naked truth. As yet she +had only seen it through a veil, darkly. Was this her George--this +ghost, grey-haired, worn out, on the brink of the unknown? The old +passionate pressure of the mouth gone--for ever! Her young husband--her +young lover--she saw him far back in the past, on Rydal lake, the +dripping oars in his hand. This was a spirit which touched her--a +spiritual love which shone upon her. And she had never yet known so +sharp an agony. + +So sharp it was that it dried all tears. She knelt there with his hands +in hers, kissing them, and gazing at him. + +'Nelly, it's hard luck! Darling, I'd better have been patient. In time, +perhaps, I should have come back to you. How I got away--who planned +it--I don't remember. I remember nothing--of all that time. But Howson +has heard something, through some people near Cassel--has he told you?' + +'Yes--but don't try to remember.' + +He smiled at her. How strange the old sweetness on these grey lips! + +'Have you missed me--dreadfully? Poor little Nelly! You're very pale--a +little shadow! Darling!--I _would_ like to live!' + +And at that--at last--the eyes of both, as they gazed at each other, +filled with tears. Tears for the eternal helplessness of man,--the +'tears of things.' + +But he roused himself, snatching still at a little love, a little +brightness--before the dark. The strychnine injected had given him +strength. + +'Give me that jelly--and the champagne. Feed me, Nelly! But have you had +any food?' + +The stress laid on the '_you_' the tone of his voice, were so like his +old self that Nelly caught her breath. A ray of mad hope stole in. She +began to feed him, and as she did so, the Sister, as though she had +heard Sarratt's question, came quietly in with a tray on which was some +food for Nelly, and put it down beside her. Then she disappeared again. + +With difficulty, Sarratt swallowed a few mouthfuls of jelly and +champagne. Then his left hand--the right was helpless--made a faint but +peremptory sign, and Nelly obediently took some food under his dimly +smiling eyes. + +'I have thought of this so often,' he murmured--I knew you'd come. It's +been like someone walking through a dark passage that was getting +lighter. Only once--I had a curious dream. I thought I saw Bridget' + +Nelly, trembling, took away his tray and her own, and then knelt down +again beside him. She kissed his forehead, and tried to divert his +thoughts by asking him if he was warm enough. His hands were very cold. +Should she make up the fire? + +'Oh, no,--it's all right. But wasn't it strange? Suddenly, I seemed to +be looking at her--quite close--and she at me. And I was worried because +I had seen her more distinctly than I could remember you. Come +nearer--put your dear head against me. Oh, if I could only hold you, as +I used to!' + +There was silence a little. But the wine had flushed him, and when the +bloodless lids lifted again, there was more life in the eyes. + +'Nelly, poor darling, have you been very lonely?--Were the Farrells kind +to you?' + +'Yes, George, very kind. They did everything--everything they could.' + +'Sir William promised me'--he said, gratefully. 'And where have you been +all the time? At Rydal?' + +'No. I was ill--after the news came----' + +'Poor Nelly!' + +'And Sir William lent us one of his farms--near his cottage--do you +remember?' + +'A little. That was kind of him--very kind. Nelly--I want to send him a +message----' + +'Yes.' + +'Give him my grateful thanks, darling,--and--and--my blessing.' + +Nelly hid her face against him, and he felt the convulsion of tearless +sobbing that passed through her. + +'Poor Nelly!'--he said again, touching her hand tenderly. Then after +another pause--'Sit there, darling, where I can see you--your dear head, +and your eyes, and your pretty neck. You must go to bed soon, you +know--but just a little while! Now tell me what you have been doing. +Talk to me. I won't talk. I'll rest--but I shall hear. That's so +wonderful--that I _can_ hear you. I've been living in such a queer +world--no tongue--no ears--no mind, hardly--only my eyes.' + +She obeyed him by a great effort. She talked to him--of what, she hardly +knew!--about her months in London and Torquay--: about her illness--the +farm--Hester Martin--and Cicely. + +When she came to speak of her friendship with Cicely, he smiled in +surprise, his eyes still shut. + +'That's jolly, dearest. You remember, I didn't like her. She wasn't at +all nice to you--once. But thank her for me--please.' + +'She's here now, George, she brought me here. She wouldn't let me come +alone.' + +'God bless her!' he said, under his breath. 'I'll see her--to-morrow. +Now go on talking. You won't mind if I go to sleep? They won't let you +stop here, dear. You'll be upstairs. But you'll come early--won't you?' + +They gave him morphia, and he went to sleep under her eyes. Then the +night nurse came in, and the surgeon from the hospital opposite, with +Howson. And Cicely took Nelly away. + +Cicely had made everything ready in the little bare room upstairs. But +when she had helped Nelly to undress, she did not linger. + +'Knock on the wall, if you want me. It is only wood, I shall hear +directly.' + +Nelly kissed her and she went. For nothing in her tender service that +day was Nelly more grateful to her. + +Then Nelly put out her light, and drawing up the blind, she sat for long +staring into the moonlight night. The rain had stopped, but the wind was +high over the sea, which lay before her a tumbled mass of waves, not a +hundred yards away. To her right was the Casino, a subdued light shining +through the blinds of its glass verandahs, behind which she sometimes +saw figures passing--nurses and doctors on their various errands. Were +there men dying there to-night--like her George? + +The anguish that held her, poor child, was no simple sorrow. Never--she +knew it doubly now--had she ceased to love her husband. She had told +Farrell the truth--'If George now were to come in at that door, there +would be no other man in the world for me!' And yet, while George was +dying, and at the very moment that he was asking for her, she had been +in Farrell's arms, and yielding to his kisses. George would never know; +but that only made her remorse the more torturing. She could never +confess to him--that indeed was her misery. He would die, and her +unfaith would stand between them for ever. + +A cleverer, a more experienced, a more practical woman, in such a case, +would have found a hundred excuses and justifications for herself that +never occurred to Nelly Sarratt, to this young immature creature, in +whom the passionate love of her marriage had roused feelings and +emotions, which, when the man on whom they were spent was taken from +her, were still the master-light of all her seeing--still so strong and +absorbing, that, in her widowed state, they were like blind forces +searching unconsciously for some new support, some new thing to love. +She had nearly died for love--and then when her young strength revived +it had become plain that she could only live for love. Her hands had met +the hands seeking hers, inevitably, instinctively. To refuse, to stand +aloof, to cause pain--that had been the torment, the impossibility, for +one who had learnt so well how to give and to make happy. There was in +it no sensual element--only Augustine's 'love of loving.' Yet her +stricken conscience told her that, in her moral indecision, if the +situation had lasted much longer, she had not been able to make up her +mind to marry Farrell quickly, she might easily have become his +mistress, through sheer weakness, sheer dread of his suffering, sheer +longing to be loved. + +Explanations and excuses, for any more seasoned student of human nature, +emerged on every hand. Nelly in her despair allowed herself none of +them. It merely seemed to her, in this night vigil, that she was +unworthy to touch her George, to nurse him, to uphold him; utterly +unworthy of all this reverent pity and affection that was being lavished +upon her for his sake. + +She sat up most of the night, wrapped in her fur cloak, alive to any +sound from the room below. And about four in the morning, she stole down +the stairs to listen at his door. There one of the nurses found her, and +moved with pity, brought her in. They settled her in an arm-chair near +him; and then with the tardy coming of the November day, she watched the +sad waking that was so many hours nearer death, at that moment when +man's life is at its wretchedest, and all the forces of the underworld +seem to be let loose upon it. + +And there, for five days and nights, with the briefest possible +intervals for food, and the sleep of exhaustion, she sat beside him. She +was dimly conscious of the people about her, of the boundless tenderness +and skill that was poured out upon the poor sufferer at her side; she +did everything for George that the nurses could shew her how to do--; it +was the one grain of personal desire left in her, and doctors and nurses +developed the most ingenious pity in devising things for her to do, and +in letting every remedy that soothed his pain, or cleared his mind, go, +as far as possible, through her hands. And there were moments when she +would walk blindly along the sea beach with Cicely, finding a stimulus +to endure in the sharpness of the winter wind, or looking in vague +wonder at the great distant camp, with its streets of hospitals, its +long lines of huts, its training-grounds, and the bodies of men at work +upon them. Here, the war came home to her, as a vast machine by which +George, like millions of others, had been caught and crushed. She +shuddered to think of it. + +At intervals Sarratt still spoke a good deal, though rarely after their +third day together. He asked her once--'Dear, did you ever send for my +letter?' She paused a moment to think. 'You mean the letter you left for +me--in case?' He made a sign of assent, and then smiled into the face +bending over him. 'Read it again, darling. I mean it all now, as I did +then.' She could only kiss him softly--without tears. After the first +day she never cried. + +On the last night of his life, when she thought that all speech was +over, and that she would never hear his voice, or see a conscious look, +again, he opened his eyes suddenly, and she heard--'I love you, +sweetheart! I love you, sweetheart!' twice over. That was the last +sound. Towards midnight he died. + +Next morning Cicely wrote to Farrell:-- + +'We are coming home to-morrow after they bury him in the cemetery here. +Please get Hester--_whatever she may be doing_--to throw it up, and come +and meet us. She is the only person who can help Nelly now for a bit +Nelly pines for Rydal--where they were together. She would go to +Hester's cottage. Tell Hester. + +'Why, old boy, do such things happen? That's what I keep asking--not +being a saint, like these dear nurses here, who really have been +angelic. I am the only one who rebels. George Sarratt was so patient--so +terribly patient! And Nelly is just crushed--for the moment, though I +sometimes expect to see a strange energy in her before long. But I keep +knocking my head all day, and part of the night--the very small part +that I'm not asleep--against the questions that everybody seems to have +asked since the world began--and I know that I am a fool, and go on +doing it. + +'George Sarratt, I think, was a simple Christian, and died like one. He +seemed to like the Chaplain, which was a comfort. How much any of that +means to Nelly I don't know.' + +She also wrote to Marsworth:-- + +'Meet us, please, at Charing Cross. I have no spirit to answer your last +letters as they deserve. But I give you notice that I don't thrive on +too sweet a diet--and praise is positively bad for me. It wrinkles me up +the wrong way. + +'What can be done about that incredible sister? She ought to know that +Nelly is determined not to see her. Just think!--they might have had +nearly a month together, and she cut it down to five days! + +('Dear Herbert, say anything you like, and the sweeter the better!) + +'Yours, + +'CICELY.' + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +'Well--what news?' said Farrell abruptly. For Cicely had come into his +library with a letter in her hand. The library was a fine +eighteenth-century room still preserved intact amid the general +appropriation of the big house by the hospital, and when he was not busy +in his office, it was his place of refuge. + +Cicely perched herself on the edge of his writing-table. + +'Hester has brought her to Rydal all right,' she said cheerfully. + +'How is she?' + +'As you might expect. But Hester says she talks of nothing but going to +work. She has absolutely set her heart upon it, and there is no moving +her.' + +'It is, of course, an absurdity,' said Farrell, frowning. + +'Absurdity or not, she means to do it, and Hester begs that nobody will +try to persuade her against it. She has promised Hester to stay with her +for three weeks, and then she has already made her arrangements.' + +'What is she going to do?' + +'She is going to a hospital near Manchester. They want a V.A.D. +housemaid.' + +Farrell rose impatiently, and stretching out his hand for his pipe, +began to pace the room, steeped evidently in disagreeable reflection. + +'You know as well as I do'--he said at last--that she hasn't the +physical strength for it.' + +'Well then she'll break down, and we can put her to bed. But try she +will, and I entirely approve of it,' said Cicely firmly. 'Hard physical +work--till you drop--till you're so tired, you must go to sleep--that's +the only thing when you're as miserable as poor Nelly. You know it is, +Will. Don't you remember that poor Mrs. Henessy whose son died here? Her +letters to me afterwards used to be all about scrubbing. If she could +scrub from morning till night, she could just get along. She scrubbed +herself sane again. The bigger the floor, the better she liked it. When +bedtime came, she just slept like a log. And at last she got all right. +But it was touch-and-go when she left here.' + +'She was a powerfully-built woman,' said Farrell gloomily. + +'Oh, well, it isn't always the strapping ones that come through. Anyway, +old boy, I'm afraid you can't do anything to alter it.' + +She looked at him a little askance. It was perfectly understood between +them that Cicely was more or less acquainted with her brother's plight, +and since her engagement to Marsworth had been announced it was +astonishing how much more ready Farrell had been to confide in her, and +she to be confided in. + +But for her few days in France, however, with Nelly Sarratt, Marsworth +might still have had some wrestles to go through with Cicely. At the +very moment when Farrell's telephone message arrived, imploring her to +take charge of Nelly on her journey, Cicely was engaged in fresh +quarrelling with her long-suffering lover. But the spectacle of +Sarratt's death, and Nelly's agony, together with her own quick +divination of Nelly's inner mind, had worked profoundly on Cicely, and +Marsworth had never shewn himself a better fellow than in his complete +sympathy with her, and his eager pity for the Sarratts. 'I haven't the +heart to tease him'--Cicely had said candidly after her return to +England. 'He's been so horribly nice to me!' And the Petruchio having +once got the upper hand, the Katherine was--like her prototype--almost +overdoing it. The corduroy trousers, Russian boots, the flame-coloured +jersey actually arrived. Cicely looked at them wistfully and locked them +up. As to the extravagances that still remained, in hats, or skirts, or +head-dressing, were they to be any further reduced, Marsworth would +probably himself implore her not to be too suddenly reasonable. For, +without them, Cicely would be only half Cicely. + +But his sister's engagement, perhaps, had only made Farrell feel more +sharply than ever the collapse of his own hopes. Three days after +Sarratt's death Nelly had written to him to give him George's dying +message, and to thank him on her own account for all that he had done +to help her journey. The letter was phrased as Nelly could not help +phrasing anything she wrote. Cicely, to whom Nelly dumbly shewed it, +thought it 'sweet.' But on Farrel's morbid state, it struck like ice, +and he had the greatest difficulty in writing a letter of sympathy, such +as any common friend must send her, in return. Every word seemed to him +either too strong or too weak. The poor Viking, indeed, had begun to +look almost middle-aged, and Cicely with a pang had discovered or +fancied some streaks of grey in the splendid red beard and curly hair. +At the same time her half-sarcastic sense perceived that he was far +better provided than Nelly, with the means of self-protection against +his trouble. 'Men always are,' thought Cicely--'they have so much more +interesting things to do.' And she compared the now famous hospital, +with its constant scientific developments, the ever-changing and +absorbing spectacle of the life within it, and Farrell's remarkable +position amid its strenuous world--with poor Nelly's 'housemaiding.' + +But Nelly was choosing the path that suited her own need, and in the +spiritual world, the humblest means may be the best. It was when she was +cooking for her nuns that some of St. Teresa's divinest ecstasies came +upon her! Not that there was any prospect of ecstasy for Nelly Sarratt. +She seemed to herself to be engaged in a kind of surgery--the cutting or +burning away of elements in herself that she had come to scorn. Hester, +who was something of a saint herself, came near to understanding her. +Cicely could only wonder. But Hester perceived, with awe, a _fierceness_ +in Nelly--a kind of cruelty--towards herself, with which she knew well, +from a long experience of human beings, that it was no use to argue. The +little, loving, easy-going thing had discovered in her own gentleness +and weakness, the source of something despicable--that is, of her own +failure to love George as steadfastly and truly as he had loved her. The +whole memory of her marriage was poisoned for her by this bitter sense +that in little more than a year after she had lost him, while he was +actually still alive, and when the law even, let alone the highest +standards of love, had not released her, she had begun to yield to the +wooing of another man. Perhaps only chance, under all the difficult +circumstances of her intimacy with Farrell, had saved her from a +shameful yielding--from dishonour, as well as a broken faith. + +'What had brought it about?'--she asked herself. And she asked it with a +desperate will, determined to probe her own sin to the utmost. 'Soft +living!'--was her own reply--moral and physical indolence. The pleasure +of being petted and spoiled, the readiness to let others work for her, +and think for her, what people called her 'sweetness!' She turned upon +it with a burning hatred and contempt. She would scourge it out of +herself. And then perhaps some day she would be able to think of +George's last faint words with something else than remorseful +anguish--_ love you, sweetheart!--I love you, sweetheart!'_ + +During the three weeks, however, that she was with Hester, she was very +silent. She clung to Hester without words, and with much less than her +usual caressingness. She found--it was evident--a certain comfort in +solitary walks, in the simple talk of Mrs. Tyson, and 'Father Time,' who +came to see her, and scolded her for her pale cheeks with a +disrespectful vigour which brought actually a smile to her eyes. Tommy +was brought over to see her; and she sat beside him, while he lay on the +floor drawing Hoons and Haggans, at a great rate, and brimful of fresh +adventures in 'Jupe.' But he was soon conscious that his old playfellow +was not the listener she had been; and he presently stole away with a +wistful look at her. + +One evening early in December, Hester coming in from marketing in +Ambleside, found Nelly, sitting by the fire, a book open on her knee, so +absorbed in thought that she had not heard her friend's entrance. Yet +her lips seemed to be moving. Hester came softly, and knelt down beside +her. + +'Darling, I have been such a long time away!' + +Nelly drew a deep breath. + +'Oh, no I--I--I've been thinking,' + +Hester looked at the open book, and saw that it was 'The Letters of St. +Ignatius'--a cheap copy, belonging to a popular theological 'Library,' +she herself had lately bought. + +'Did that interest you, Nelly?' she asked, wondering. + +'Some of it'--said Nelly, flushing a little. And after a moment's +hesitation, she pointed to a passage under her hand:--'For I fear your +love, lest it injure me, for it is easy to do what you will; but it is +difficult for me to attain unto God, if ye insist on sparing me.' + +And suddenly Hester remembered that before going out she had entreated +Nelly to give herself another fortnight's rest before going to +Manchester. It would then be only six weeks since her husband's death. +'And if you break down, dear,'--she had ventured--'it won't only be +trouble to you--but to them '--meaning the hospital authorities. +Whereupon for the first time since her return, Nelly's eyes had filled +with tears. But she made no reply, and Hester had gone away uneasy. + +'Why will you be so hard on yourself?' she murmured, taking the lovely +childish face in her two hands and kissing it. + +Nelly gently released herself, and pointed again, mutely, to a passage +further on--the famous passage in which the saint, already in the +ecstasy of martyrdom, appeals again to the Christian church in Rome, +whether he is bound, not to save him from the wild beasts of the arena. +'I entreat you, shew not unto me an unseasonable love! Suffer me to be +the food of wild beasts, through whom it is allowed me to attain unto +God. I am the corn of God; let me be ground by the teeth of the wild +beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of Christ.... Pardon me in +this. I know what is expedient for me. I am but now beginning to be a +disciple.' + +'Nelly dear--what do you mean?' + +A faint little smile crossed Nelly's face. + +'Oh, nothing--only;--' she sighed again--'It's so _splendid_! Such a +will!--such a faith! No one thinks like that now. No one is willing to +be "the corn of God."' + +'Oh, yes they are!' said Hester, passionately. 'There are thousands of +men--and women--in this war, who are willing to do everything--suffer +everything--for others--their country--their people at home.' + +'Well, then they're happy!--and why hold anyone back?' said Nelly, with +soft reproach. And letting her head drop on Hester's shoulder, she said, +slowly-- + +'Let me go, dear Hester--let me go! It's drudgery I want--_drudgery_' +she repeated with intensity. 'Something that I don't want to +do--something that's against the grain--all day long.' Then she laughed +and roused herself. 'Not much likeness between me and St. Ignatius, is +there?' + +Hester considered her gravely. + +'When people like you are wrestling all day and every day with something +too hard for them, their strength gives way. They think they can do it, +but they can't.' + +'My strength won't give way,' said Nelly, with quiet conviction. Then, +after pausing a moment, she said with a strange ardour--'I once heard a +story--a true story--of a man, who burnt his own hand off, because it +had struck his friend. He held it in a flame till there was only the +burnt stump, and after that he forgave himself and could bear to live +again.' + +'But whom have you struck, you poor child!' cried Hester. + +'_George_!' said Nelly, looking at her with bitterly shining eyes. + +Hester's arms enfolded her, and they talked far into the night. Before +they separated, Hester had agreed that the date of Nelly's departure +should be not postponed, but quickened. + +And during the few remaining days they were together, Hester could only +notice with growing amazement the change in all the small ways and +habits that had once characterised Nelly Sarratt--especially since her +Torquay illness; the small invalidisms and self-indulgences, the +dependence on a servant or on Bridget. Now the ascetic, penitential +passion had come upon her; as it comes in different forms, upon many a +man or woman in the _sélva oscúra_ of their life; and Hester knew that +there was no resisting it. + +Hester went back to her 'Welfare' work. Cicely travelled between Carton +and London, collecting her trousseau and declaring that she _would_ be +married in Lent, whatever people might say. Farrell was deeply engaged +in introducing a new antiseptic treatment of an extremely costly kind +throughout his hospital, in watching the results of it, and in giving +facilities for the study of it, to the authorities and officials of all +kinds who applied to him. A sorrowful man--but a very busy one. +Marsworth was making his mark in the Intelligence Department of the War +Office, and was being freely named as the head of an important Military +Mission to one of the Allied Headquarters. What would become of Cicely +and the wedding, if the post were given him, and--as was probable--at a +day's warning--was not quite clear. Cicely, however, took it calmly. +'They can't give us less than three hours' notice--and if it's after two +o'clock, we can always get married somehow by five. You scurry round, +pay fifty pounds, and somebody at Lambeth does it. Then--I should see +him safely off in the evening!' + +Meanwhile Bridget Cookson was living in her usual Bloomsbury +boarding-house, holding herself quite aloof from the idle ways of its +inmates, who, in the midst of the world-war, were still shopping as +usual in the mornings and spending the afternoons in tea and gossip. +Bridget, however, was scarcely employing her own time to any greater +profit for a burdened country. She was learning various languages, and +attending a number of miscellaneous lectures. Her time was fairly full, +and she lived in an illusion of multifarious knowledge which flattered +her vanity. She was certainly far cleverer; and better-educated than +the other women of her boarding-house; and she was one of those persons +who throughout life prefer to live with their inferiors. 'The only +remedy against a superiority,'--says some French writer--'is to love +it.' But Bridget was so made that she could not love it; she could only +pull it down and belittle it. + +But all the same, Bridget Cookson was no monster, though she was +probably without feelings and instincts that most people possess. She +missed Nelly a good deal, more than Nelly herself would have believed. +And she thought now, that she had behaved like a fool in not recognising +Sarratt at once, and so preserving her influence with her sister. +Morally, however, she saw no great harm in what she had done. It was +arguable, at any rate. Everything was arguable. As to the effect on +Nelly of the outward and visible facts of Sarratt's death, it seemed to +have been exactly what she, Bridget, had foreseen. Through some +Manchester acquaintance she succeeded in getting occasional news of +Nelly, who was, it appeared, killing herself with hard and disagreeable +work. She heard also from the woman left in charge of the Loughrigg farm +that all Mrs. Sarratt's personal possessions had been sent to the care +of Miss Martin, and that Sir William had shut up the cottage and never +came there. Sometimes Bridget would grimly contrast this state of things +with what might have happened, had her stroke succeeded, and had George +died unrecognised. In that event how many people would have been made +happy, who were now made miserable! + +The winter passed away, the long and bitter winter which seemed to +sharpen for English hearts and nerves all the suffering of the war. On +the Somme the Germans were secretly preparing the retreat which began +with the spring, while the British armies were growing to their full +stature, month by month, and England was becoming slowly accustomed to +the new and amazing consciousness of herself as a great military power. +And meanwhile death in the trenches still took its steady toll of our +best and dearest; and at sea, while British sea-power pressed home its +stifling grasp on the life of Germany, the submarine made England +anxious, but not afraid. + +March shewed some pale gleams of spring, but April was one of the +coldest and dreariest in the memory of living man. The old earth in +sympathy with the great struggle that was devastating and searing her, +seemed to be withholding leaf and flower, and forbidding the sun to woo +her. + +Till the very first days of May! Then, with a great return upon herself, +Nature flew to work. The trees rushed into leaf, and never had there +been such a glorious leafage. Everything was late, but everything was +perfection. And nowhere was the spring loveliness more lovely than in +Westmorland. The gentle valleys of the Lakes had been muffled in snow +and scourged with hail. The winter furies had made their lairs in the +higher fells, and rushed shrieking week after week through delicate and +quiet scenes not made for them. The six months from November to May had +been for the dale-dwellers one long endurance. But in one May week all +was forgotten, and atoned for. Beauty, 'an hourly presence,' reigned +without a rival. From the purple heights that stand about Langdale and +Derwentwater, to the little ferns and mountain plants that crept on +every wall, or dipped in every brook, the mountain land was all alive +and joyful. The streams alone made a chorus for the gods. + +Hester, who was now a woman of sixty, had reluctantly admitted, by the +middle of the month, that, after a long winter spent in a munition +factory and a Lancashire town, employed on the most strenuous work that +she, an honest worker all her life, had ever known, a fortnight's +holiday was reasonable. And she wrote to Nelly Sarratt, just as she was +departing northwards, to say--cunningly--that she was very tired and run +down, and would Nelly come and look after her for a little? It was the +first kindness she had ever asked of Nelly, to whom she had done so +many. Nelly telegraphed in reply that in two days she would be at Rydal. + +Hester spent the two days in an expectation half-eager, half-anxious. It +had been agreed between them that in their correspondence the subject of +Nelly's health was to be tabooed. In case of a serious breakdown, the +Commandant of Nelly's hospital would write. Otherwise there were to be +no enquiries and no sympathy. Cicely Marsworth before her marriage in +early March had seen Nelly twice and had reported--against the +grain--that although 'most unbecomingly thin,' the obstinate little +creature said she was well, and apparently was well. Everybody in the +hospital, said Cicely, was at Nelly's feet. 'It is of course nonsense +for her to lay down, that she won't be petted, Nature has settled that +for her. However, I am bound to say it is the one thing that makes her +angry, and the nurses are all amazed at what she has been able to stand. +There is a half-blind boy, suffering from "shock" in one of the wards, +to whom they say she has devoted herself for months. She has taught him +to speak again, and to walk, and the nerve-specialist who has been +looking after the poor fellow told her he would trust her with his worst +cases, if only she would come and nurse for him. That did seem to please +her. She flushed up a little when she told me. Otherwise she has become +_horribly impersonal_! Her wings are growing rapidly. But oh, Hester, I +did and do prefer the old Nelly to any angel I've ever known. If I +hadn't married Herbert, I should like to spend all my time in _tempting +her_--the poor darling!--as the devil--who was such a fool!--tempted St. +Anthony. I know plenty of saints; but I know only one little, soft +kissable Nelly. She shan't be taken from us!' + +_So horribly impersonal_! What did Cicely mean? + +Well, Cicely--with the object described in full view--would soon be +able to tell her. For the Marsworths were coming to Carton for a week, +before starting for Rome, and would certainly come over to her to say +good-bye. As to William--would it really be necessary to leave him +behind? Nelly must before long brace herself to see him again, as an +ordinary friend. He had meant no harm--and done no harm--poor William! +Hester was beginning secretly to be his warm partisan. + +Twenty-four hours later, Nelly arrived. As Hester received her from the +coach, and walked with her arm round the tiny waist to the cottage by +the bend of the river, where tea beside the sun-flecked stream was set +for the traveller, the older friend was at once startled and reassured. +Reassured--because, after these six months, Nelly could laugh once more, +and her step was once more firm and normal; and startled, by the new and +lonely independence she perceived in her frail visitor. Nelly was in +black again, with a small black hat from which her widow's veil fell +back over her shoulders. The veil, the lawn collar and cuffs, together +with her childish slightness, and the curls on her temples and brow that +she had tried in vain to straighten, made her look like a little girl +masquerading. And yet, in truth, what struck her hostess was the sad +maturity for which she seemed to have exchanged her old clinging ways. +She spoke, for the first time, as one who was mistress of her own life +and its issues; with a perfectly clear notion of what there was for her +to do. She had made up her mind, she told Hester, to take work offered +her in one of the new special hospitals for nervous cases which were the +product of the war. 'They think I have a turn for it, and they are going +to train me. Isn't it kind and dear of them?' + +'But I am told it is the most exhausting form of nursing there is,' said +Hester wondering. 'Are you quite sure you can stand it?' + +'Try me!' said Nelly, with a strange brightness of look. Then reaching +out a hand she slipped it contentedly into her friend's. 'Hester!--isn't +it strange what we imagine about ourselves--and what is really true? I +thought the first weeks that I was in hospital, I _must_ break down. I +never dreamt that anyone could feel so tired--so deadly ill--and yet go +on. And then one began, little by little, to get hardened,--of course +I'm only now beginning to feel that!--and it seems like being born +again, with a quite new body, that one can make--yes, _make_--do as one +likes. That's what the soldiers tell me--about _their_ training. And +they wonder at it, as I do.' + +'My dear, you're horribly thin,' interrupted Hester. + +'Oh, not too thin!' said Nelly, complacently. + +Then she lifted up her eyes suddenly, and saw the lake in a dazzle of +light, and Silver How, all purple, as of old; yet another family of wild +duck swimming where the river issued from the lake; and just beyond, the +white corner of the house where she and George had spent their few days +of bliss. Slowly, the eyes filled with brimming tears. She threw off +her hat and veil, and slipping to the grass, she laid her head against +her friend's knee, and there was a long silence. + +Hester broke it at last. + +'I want you to come a little way up the fell, and look at a daffodil +field. We'll leave a message, and Cicely can follow us there.' And then +she added, not without trepidation--'and I asked her to bring William, +if he had time.' + +Nelly was silent a moment, and then said quietly---'Thank you. I'm glad +you did.' + +They left the garden and wandered through some rocky fields on the side +of the fell, till they came to one where Linnaeus or any other pious +soul might well have gone upon his knees for joy. Some loving hand had +planted it with daffodils--the wild Lent lily of the district, though +not now very plentiful about the actual lakes. And the daffodils had +come back rejoicing to their kingdom, and made it their own again. They +ran in lines and floods, in troops and skirmishers, all through the +silky grass, and round the trunks of the old knotted oaks, that hung as +though by one foot from the emerging rocks and screes. Above, the bloom +of the wild cherries made a wavering screen of silver between the +daffodils and the May sky; amid the blossom the golden-green of the oaks +struck a strong riotous note; and far below, at their feet, the lake lay +blue, with all the sky within it, and the softness of the larch-woods on +its banks. + +Nelly dropped into the grass among the daffodils. One could not have +called her the spirit of the spring--the gleeful, earthly spring--as it +would have been natural to do, in her honeymoon days. And yet, as Hester +watched her, she seemed in her pale, changed beauty to be in some +strange harmony with that grave, renewing, fruitful heart of all things, +whereof the daffodils and the cherry-blossom were but symbols. + +Presently there were voices beneath them--climbing voices that came +nearer--of a man and a woman. Nelly's hand begun to pluck restlessly at +the grass beside her. + +Cicely emerged first, Cicely in white, very bridal, and very happy. Very +conscious too, though she did not betray it by a movement or a look, of +the significance of this first meeting, since Sarratt's death, between +her brother and Nelly. But they met very simply. Nelly went a little way +down the steep to meet them. She kissed Cicely, and gave Farrell her +hand. + +'It was very good of you to come.' + +But then it seemed to Hester, who could not help watching it, that +Nelly's face, as she stood there looking gravely at Farrell, shewed a +sudden trouble and agitation. It was gone very quickly, however, and she +and he walked on together along a green path skirting the fells, and +winding through the daffodils and the hawthorns. + +Cicely and Hester followed, soon perceiving that the two ahead had +slipped into animated conversation. + +'What can it be about?' said Cicely, in Hester's ear. + +'I heard the word "Charcot,"' said Hester. + +The bride listened deliberately. + +'And William's talking about an article in the _Lancet_ he's been boring +Herbert and me with, by that very specialist that Nelly's so keen +about,--the man that is going to have her trained to nurse his cases. +Something about the new treatment of "shock." I say, Hester, what an odd +sort of fresh beginning!' + +Cicely turned a look half grave, half laughing on her companion--adding +hastily-- + +'The specialist's married!' + +Hester frowned a little. + +'Beginning of what?' + +'Oh, I don't know,' said Cicely, with a shrug, 'But life is long, +Mademoiselle Hester, and now they've got a common interest--outside +themselves. They can talk about _things_--not feelings. Goodness!--did +you hear that? William is head over ears in his new antiseptic--and look +at Nelly--she's quite pink! That's what I meant by her being _horribly +impersonal_. She used the word "scientific" to me, three times, when I +went to see her--_Nelly_!' + +'If she's impersonal, I should doubt whether William is,' said Hester +drily. + +'Ah, no--poor Willy!' was Cicely's musing reply. 'It's a hard time for +him. I don't believe she's ever out of his mind. Or at least, she +wouldn't be, if it weren't for his work. That's the blessed part--for +both of them. And now you see--it gives them such a deal to talk +about'--her gesture indicated the couple in front. 'It's like two sore +surfaces, isn't it, that mustn't touch--you want something between.' + +'All the same, William mustn't set his heart--' + +'And Hester--dear old thing!--mustn't preach!' said Cicely laughing, and +pinching her cousin's arm. 'What's the good of saying that, about a man +like William, who knows what he wants? Of course he's set his heart, and +will go on setting it. But he'll _wait_--as long as she likes.' + +'It'll be a long time.' + +'All right! They're neither of them Methuselahs yet. Heavens!--What are +they at now? _Ambrine_!--_she's_ talking to _him_' + +But some deep mingled instinct, at once of sympathy with Nelly and pity +for Farrell, made Hester unwilling to discuss the subject any more. +George's death was too recent; peace and a happy future too remote. So +she turned on Cicely. + +'And please, what have you done with Herbert? I was promised a +bridegroom.' + +'Business!' said Cicely, sighing. 'We had hardly arrived for our week's +leave, when the wretched War Office wired him to come back. He went this +morning, and I wanted to go too, but--I'm not to racket just now.' + +Cicely blushed, and Hester, smiling, pressed her hand. + +'Then you're not going to Rome?' + +'Certainly I am! But one has to give occasional sops to the domestic +tyrant.' + +They sauntered back to tea in Hester's garden by the river, and there +the talk of her three guests was more equal and unfettered, more of a +real interchange, than Hester ever remembered it. Of old, Farrell had +been the guardian and teacher, indoctrinating Nelly with his own views +on art, reading to her from his favourite poets, or surrounding her in a +hundred small matters with a playful and devoted homage. But now in the +long wrestle with her grief and remorse, she had thought, as well as +felt. She was as humble and simple as ever, but her companions realised +that she was standing on her own feet. And this something new in +her--which was nothing but a strengthened play of intelligence and +will--had a curious effect on Farrell. It seemed to bring him out, also; +so that the nobler aspects of his life, and the nobler proportions of +his character shewed themselves, unconsciously. Hester, with anxious +joy, guessed at the beginnings of a new moral relation, a true +comradeship, between himself and Nelly, such as there had never yet +been--which might go far. It masked the depths in both of them; or +rather it was a first bridge thrown over the chasm between them. What +would come of it? + +Again she rebuked herself even for the question. But when the time for +departure came, and Nelly took Cicely into the house to fetch the wraps +which had been left there, Farrell drew his chair close to Hester's. She +read agitation in his look. + +'So she's actually going to take up this new nursing? She says she is to +have six months' training.' + +'Yes--don't grudge it her!' + +Farrell was silent a moment, then broke out--'Did you ever see anything +so small and transparent as her hands are? I was watching them as she +sat there.' + +'But they're capable!' laughed Hester. 'You should hear what her matron +says of her.' + +Farrell sighed. + +'How much weight has she lost?' + +'Not more--as yet--than she can stand. There's an intense life in her--a +spiritual life--that seems to keep her going.' + +'Hester--dear Hester--watch over her!' + +He put out a hand and grasped his cousin's. + +'Yes, you may trust me.' + +'Hester!--do you believe there'll ever be any hope for me?' + +'It's unkind even to think of it yet,' she said gravely. + +He drew himself up, recovering self-control. + +'I know--I know. I hope I'm not quite a fool! And indeed it's better +than I thought. She's not going to banish me altogether. When this new +hospital's open--in another month or so--and she's settled there--she +asks me to call upon her. She wants me to go into this man's treatment.' +There was a touch of comedy in the words; but the emotion in his face +was painful to see. + +'Good!' said Hester, smiling. + +When the guests were gone, Nelly came slowly back to Hester from the +garden gate. Her hands were loosely clasped before her, her eyes on the +ground. When she reached Hester she looked up and Hester saw that her +eyes were full of tears. + +'He'll miss her very much,' she said, sadly. + +'Cicely?' + +'Yes--she's been a great deal more to him lately than she used to be.' + +Nelly stood silently looking out over the lake for a while. In her mind +and Hester's there were thoughts which neither could express. Suddenly, +Nelly turned to Hester. Her voice sounded strained and quick. 'I never +told you--on my way here, I went to see Bridget.' + +Hester was taken by surprise. After a moment's silence she said-- + +'Has she ever repented--ever asked your forgiveness? + +Nelly shook her head. + +'But I think--she would be sorry--if she could. I shall go and see her +sometimes. But she doesn't want me. She seems quite busy--and +satisfied.' + +'Satisfied!' said Hester, indignantly. + +'I mean with what she is doing--with her way of living.' + +There was silence. But presently there was a stifled sob in the +darkness; and Hester knew that Nelly was thinking of those irrecoverable +weeks of which Bridget's cruelty had robbed her. + +Then presently bedtime came, and Hester saw her guest to her room. But a +little while after, as she was standing by her own window she heard the +garden door open and perceived a small figure slipping down over the +lawn--a shadow among shadows--towards the path along the lake. And she +guessed of course that Nelly had gone out to take a last look at the +scene of her lost happiness, before her departure on the morrow. + +Only twenty-two--with all her life before her--if she lived! + +Of course, the probability was that she would live--and gradually +forget--and in process of time marry William Farrell. But Hester could +not be at all sure that the story would so work out. Supposing that the +passion of philanthropy, or the passion of religion, fastened upon +her--on the girlish nature that had proved itself with time to be of so +much finer and rarer temper than those about her had ever suspected? +Both passions are absorbing; both tend to blunt in many women the +natural instinct of the woman towards the man. Nelly had been an +old-fashioned, simple girl, brought up in a backwater of life. Now she +was being drawn into that world of the new woman--where are women +policemen, and women chauffeurs, and militant suffragists, and women in +overalls and breeches, and many other strange types. The war has shown +us--suddenly and marvellously--the adaptability of women. Would little +Nelly, too, prove as plastic as the rest, and in the excitement of +meeting new demands, and reaching out to new powers, forget the old +needs and sweetnesses? + +It might be so; but in her heart of hearts, Hester did not believe it +would be so. + +Meanwhile Nelly was wandering through the May dusk along the lake. She +walked through flowers. The scents of a rich earth were in the air; +daylight lingered, but a full and golden moon hung over Loughrigg in the +west; and the tranced water of the lake was marvellously giving back the +beauty amid which it lay--form, and colour, and distance--and all the +magic of the hour between day and night. There was no boat, alack, to +take her to the island; but there it lay, dreaming on the silver water, +with a great hawthorn in full flower shewing white upon its rocky side. +She made her way to the point nearest to the island, and there sat down +on a stone at the water's edge. + +Opposite to her was the spot where she and George had drifted with the +water on their last night together. If she shut her eyes she could see +his sunburnt face, blanched by the moonlight, his strong shoulders, his +hands--which she had kissed--lying on the oars. And mingling with the +vision was that other--of a grey, dying face, a torn and broken body. + +Her heart was full of intensest love and yearning; but the love was no +longer a torment. She knew now that if she had been able to tell George +everything, he would never have condemned her; he would only have opened +his arms and comforted her. + +She was wrapped in a mystical sense of communion with him, as she sat +dreaming there. But in such a calm and exaltation of spirit, that there +was ample room besides in her mind for the thought of William +Farrell--her friend. Her most faithful and chivalrous friend! She +thought of Farrell's altered aspect, of the signs of a great task laid +upon him, straining even his broad back. And then, of his loneliness. +Cicely was gone--his 'little friend' was gone. + +What could she still do for him? It seemed to her that even while George +stood spiritually beside her, in this scene of their love, he was +bidding her think kindly and gratefully of the man whom he had blessed +in dying--the man who, in loving her, had meant him no harm. + +Her mind formed no precise image of the future. She was incapable, +indeed, as yet, of forming any that would have disturbed that intimate +life with George which was the present fruit in her of remorseful love +and pity. The spring shores of Rydal, the meadows steeping their +flowery grasses in the water, the new leaf, the up-curling fern, +breathed in her unconscious ear their message of re-birth. But she knew +only that she was uplifted, strengthened--to endure and serve. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12908 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9685550 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #12908 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12908) diff --git a/old/12908-8.txt b/old/12908-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ccca62 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12908-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11155 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Missing, by Mrs. Humphry Ward + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Missing + +Author: Mrs. Humphry Ward + +Release Date: July 14, 2004 [eBook #12908] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISSING*** + + +E-text prepared by Andrew Templeton, Juliet Sutherland, Graeme Mackreth, +and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders + + + +MISSING + +by + +MRS. HUMPHRY WARD + +Author of "Robert Elsmere," "Lady Rose's Daughter," +"The Mating of Lydia," etc. + +Frontispiece in Colour by C. Allan Gilbert + + + + + + +[Illustration: _Deeply regret to inform you your husband reported +wounded and missing_] + + + + +PART I + +MISSING + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +'Shall I set the tea, Miss?' + +Miss Cookson turned from the window. + +'Yes--bring it up--except the tea of course--they ought to be here at +any time.' + +'And Mrs. Weston wants to know what time supper's to be?' + +The fair-haired girl speaking was clearly north-country. She pronounced +the 'u' in 'supper,' as though it were the German 'u' in _Suppe_. + +Miss Cookson shrugged her shoulders. + +'Well, they'll settle that.' + +The tone was sharp and off-hand. And the maid-servant, as she went +downstairs, decided for the twentieth time that afternoon, that she +didn't like Miss Cookson, and she hoped her sister, Mrs. Sarratt, would +be nicer. Miss Cookson had been poking her nose into everything that +afternoon, fiddling with the rooms and furniture, and interfering with +Mrs. Weston. As if Mrs. Weston didn't know what to order for lodgers, +and how to make them comfortable! As if she hadn't had dozens of brides +and bridegrooms to look after before this!--and if she hadn't given +them all satisfaction, would they ever have sent her all them +picture-postcards which decorated her little parlour downstairs? + +All the same, the house-parlourmaid, Milly by name, was a good deal +excited about this particular couple who were now expected. For Mrs. +Weston had told her it had been a 'war wedding,' and the bridegroom was +going off to the front in a week. Milly's own private affairs--in +connection with a good-looking fellow, formerly a gardener at Bowness, +now recently enlisted in one of the Border regiments--had caused her to +take a special interest in the information, and had perhaps led her to +put a bunch of monthly roses on Mrs. Sarratt's dressing-table. Miss +Cookson hadn't bothered herself about flowers. That she might have +done!--instead of fussing over things that didn't concern her--just for +the sake of ordering people about. + +When the little red-haired maid had left the room, the lady she disliked +returned to the window, and stood there absorbed in reflections that +were not gay, to judge from the furrowed brow and pinched lips that +accompanied them. Bridget Cookson was about thirty; not precisely +handsome, but at the same time, not ill-looking. Her eyes were large and +striking, and she had masses of dark hair, tightly coiled about her head +as though its owner felt it troublesome and in the way. She was thin, +but rather largely built, and her movements were quick and decided. Her +tweed dress was fashionably cut, but severely without small ornament of +any kind. + +She looked out upon a beautiful corner of English Lakeland. The house in +which she stood was built on the side of a little river, which, as she +saw it, came flashing and sparkling out of a lake beyond, lying in broad +strips of light and shade amid green surrounding fells. The sun was +slipping low, and would soon have kindled all the lake into a white +fire, in which its islands would have almost disappeared. But, for the +moment, everything was plain:--the sky, full of light, and filmy grey +cloud, the fells with their mingling of wood and purple crag, the +shallow reach of the river beyond the garden, with a little family of +wild duck floating upon it, and just below her a vivid splash of colour, +a mass of rhododendron in bloom, setting its rose-pink challenge against +the cool greys and greens of the fell. + +But Bridget Cookson was not admiring the view. It was not new to her, +and moreover she was not in love with Westmorland at all; and why Nelly +should have chosen this particular spot, to live in, while George was at +the war, she did not understand. She believed there was some sentimental +reason. They had first seen him in the Lakes--just before the war--when +they two girls and their father were staying actually in this very +lodging-house. But sentimental reasons are nothing. + +Well, the thing was done. Nelly was married, and in another week, George +would be at the front. Perhaps in a fortnight's time she would be a +widow. Such things have happened often. 'And then what shall I do with +her?' thought the sister, irritably,--recoiling from a sudden vision of +Nelly in sorrow, which seemed to threaten her own life with even greater +dislocation than had happened to it already. 'I must have my time to +myself!--freedom for what I want'--she thought to herself, impatiently, +'I can't be always looking after her.' + +Yet of course the fact remained that there was no one else to look after +Nelly. They had been left alone in the world for a good while now. Their +father, a Manchester cotton-broker in a small way, had died some six +months before this date, leaving more debts than fortune. The two girls +had found themselves left with very small means, and had lived, of late, +mainly in lodgings--unfurnished rooms--with some of their old furniture +and household things round them. Their father, though unsuccessful in +business, had been ambitious in an old-fashioned way for his children, +and they had been brought up 'as gentlefolks'--that is to say without +any trade or profession. + +But their poverty had pinched them disagreeably--especially Bridget, in +whom it had produced a kind of angry resentment. Their education had not +been serious enough, in these days of competition, to enable them to +make anything of teaching after their Father's death. Nelly's +water-colour drawing, for instance, though it was a passion with her, +was quite untrained, and its results unmarketable. Bridget had taken up +one subject after another, and generally in a spirit of antagonism to +her surroundings, who, according to her, were always 'interfering' with +what she wanted to do,--with her serious and important occupations. But +these occupations always ended by coming to nothing; so that, as Bridget +was irritably aware, even Nelly had ceased to be as much in awe of them +as she had once been. + +But the elder sister had more solid cause than this for dissatisfaction +with the younger. Nelly had really behaved like a little fool! The one +family asset of which a great deal might have been made--should have +been made--was Nelly's prettiness. She was _very_ pretty--absurdly +pretty--and had been a great deal run after in Manchester already. There +had been actually two proposals from elderly men with money, who were +unaware of the child's engagement, during the past three months; and +though these particular suitors were perhaps unattractive, yet a little +time and patience, and the right man would have come along, both +acceptable in himself, and sufficiently supplied with money to make +everything easy for everybody. + +But Nelly had just wilfully and stubbornly fallen in love with this +young man--and wilfully and stubbornly married him. It was unlike her to +be stubborn about anything. But in this there had been no moving her. +And now there was nothing before either of them but the same shabbiness +and penury as before. What if George had two hundred and fifty a year +of his own, besides his pay?--a fact that Nelly was always triumphantly +brandishing in her sister's eyes. + +No doubt it was more than most young subalterns had--much more. But what +was two hundred and fifty a year? Nelly would want every penny of it for +herself--and her child--or children. For of course there would be a +child--Bridget Cookson fell into profound depths of thought, emerging +from them, now as often before, with the sore realisation of how much +Nelly might have done with her 'one talent,' both for herself and her +sister, and had not done. + +The sun dropped lower; one side of the lake was now in shadow, and from +the green shore beneath the woods and rocks, the reflections of tree and +crag and grassy slope were dropping down and down, unearthly clear and +far, to that inverted heaven in the 'steady bosom' of the water. A +little breeze came wandering, bringing delicious scents of grass and +moss, and in the lake the fish were rising. + +Miss Cookson moved away from the window. How late they were! She would +hardly get home in time for her own supper. They would probably ask her +to stay and sup with them. But she did not intend to stay. Honeymooners +were much better left to themselves. Nelly would be a dreadfully +sentimental bride; and then dreadfully upset when George went away. She +had asked her sister to join them in the Lakes, and it was taken for +granted that they would resume living together after George's departure. +But Bridget had fixed her own lodgings, for the present, a mile away, +and did not mean to see much of her sister till the bridegroom had gone. + +There was the sound of a motor-car on the road, which ran along one side +of the garden, divided from it by a high wall. It could hardly be they; +for they were coming frugally by the coach. But Miss Cookson went across +to a side window looking on the road to investigate. + +At the foot of the hill opposite stood a luxurious car, waiting +evidently for the party which was now descending the hill towards it. +Bridget had a clear view of them, herself unseen behind Mrs. Weston's +muslin blinds. A girl was in front, with a young man in khaki, a +convalescent officer, to judge from his frail look and hollow eyes. The +girl was exactly like the fashion-plate in the morning's paper. She wore +a very short skirt and Zouave jacket in grey cloth, high-heeled grey +boots, with black tips and gaiters, a preposterous little hat perched on +one side of a broad white forehead, across which the hair was parted +like a boy's, and an ostrich plume on the top of the hat, which nodded +and fluttered so extravagantly that the face beneath almost escaped the +spectator's notice. Yet it was on the whole a handsome face, audacious, +like its owner's costume, and with evident signs--for Bridget Cookson's +sharp eyes--of slight make-up. + +Miss Cookson knew who she was. She had seen her in the neighbouring +town that morning, and had heard much gossip about her. She was Miss +Farrell, of Carton Hall, and that gentleman coming down the hill more +slowly behind her was no doubt her brother Sir William. + +Lame? That of course was the reason why he was not in the army. It was +not very conspicuous, but still quite definite. A stiff knee, Miss +Cookson supposed--an accident perhaps--some time ago. Lucky for him!--on +any reasonable view. Bridget Cookson thought the war 'odious,' and gave +no more attention to it than she could help. It had lasted now nearly a +year, and she was heartily sick of it. It filled the papers with +monotonous news which tired her attention--which she did not really try +to understand. Now she supposed she would have to understand it. For +George, her new brother-in-law, was sure to talk a terrible amount of +shop. + +Sir William was very tall certainly, and good-looking. He had a short +pointed beard, a ruddy, sunburnt complexion, blue eyes and broad +shoulders--the common points of the well-born and landowning +Englishman. Bridget looked at him with a mixture of respect and +hostility. To be rich was to be so far interesting; still all such +persons, belonging to a world of which she knew nothing, were in her +eyes 'swells,' and gave themselves airs; a procedure on their part, +which would be stopped when the middle and lower classes were powerful +enough to put them in their place. It was said, however, that this +particular man was rather a remarkable specimen of his kind--didn't +hunt--didn't preserve--had trained as an artist, and even exhibited. The +shopwoman in B---- from whom Miss Cookson derived her information about +the Farrells, had described Sir William as 'queer'--said everybody knew +he was 'queer.' Nobody could get him to do any county work. He hated +Committees, and never went near them. It was said he had been in love +and the lady had died. 'But if we all turned lazy for that kind of +thing!'--said the little shopwoman, shrugging her shoulders. Still the +Farrells were not unpopular. Sir William had a pleasant slow way of +talking, especially to the small folk; and he had just done something +very generous in giving up his house--the whole of his house--somewhere +Cockermouth way, to the War Office, as a hospital. As for his sister, +she seemed to like driving convalescent officers about, and throwing +away money on her clothes. There was no sign of 'war economy' about Miss +Farrell. + +Here, however, the shopwoman's stream of gossip was arrested by the +arrival of a new customer. Bridget was not sorry. She had not been at +all interested in the Farrells' idiosyncrasies; and she only watched +their preparations for departure now, for lack of something to do. The +chauffeur was waiting beside the car, and Miss Farrell got in first, +taking the front seat. Then Sir William, who had been loitering on the +hill, hurried down to give a helping hand to the young officer, who was +evidently only in the early stages of convalescence. After settling his +guest comfortably, he turned to speak to his chauffeur, apparently about +their road home, as he took a map out of his pocket. + +At this moment, a clatter of horses' hoofs and the rattle of a coach +were heard. Round the corner, swung the Windermere evening coach in fine +style, and drew up at the door of Mrs. Weston's lodgings, a little ahead +of the car. + +'There they are!' said Miss Cookson, excited in spite of herself. 'Well, +I needn't go down. George will bring in the luggage.' + +A young man and a young lady got up from their seats. A ladder was +brought for the lady to descend. But just as she was about to step on +it, a fidgeting horse in front made a movement, the ladder slipped, and +the lady was only just in time to withdraw her foot and save herself. + +Sir William Farrell, who had seen the little incident, ran forward, +while the man who had been placing the ladder went to the horse, which +was capering and trying to rear in his eagerness to be off. + +Sir William raised the ladder, and set it firmly against the coach. + +'I think you might risk it now,' he said, raising his eyes pleasantly to +the young person above him. + +'Thank you,' said a shy voice. Mrs. Sarratt turned round and descended. +Meanwhile the man holding the ladder saw an officer in khaki standing +on the top of the coach, and heard him address a word of laughing +encouragement to the lady. And no sooner had her feet touched the ground +than he was at her side in a trice. + +'Thank you, Sir!' he said, saluting. 'My wife was very nearly thrown +off. That horse has been giving trouble all the way.' + +'Must be content with what you can get, in war-time!' said the other +smiling, as he raised his hat to the young woman he had befriended, whom +he now saw plainly. 'And there are so few visitors at present in these +parts that what horses there are don't get enough to do.' + +The face turned upon him was so exquisite in line and colour that Sir +William, suddenly struck, instead of retreating to his car, lingered +while the soldier husband--a lieutenant, to judge from the stripes on +his cuff,--collected a rather large amount of luggage from the top of +the coach. + +'You must have had a lovely drive along Windermere,' said Sir William +politely. 'Let me carry that bag for you. You're stopping here?' + +'Yes--' said Mrs. Sarratt, distractedly, watching to see that the +luggage was all right. 'Oh, George, _do_ take care of that parcel!' + +'All right.' + +But she had spoken too late. As her husband, having handed over two suit +cases to Mrs. Weston's fourteen-year old boy, came towards her with a +large brown paper parcel, the string of it slipped, Mrs. Sarratt gave a +little cry, and but for her prompt rush to his assistance, its contents +would have descended into the road. But through a gap in the paper +various tin and china objects were disclosed. + +'That's your "cooker," Nelly,' said her husband laughing. 'I told you it +would bust the show!' + +But her tiny, deft fingers rapidly repaired the damage, and re-tied the +string while he assisted her. The coach drove off, and Sir William +patiently held the bag. Then she insisted on carrying the parcel +herself, and the lieutenant relieved Sir William. + +'Awfully obliged to you!' he said gratefully. 'Good evening! We're +stopping here for a bit' He pointed to the open door of the +lodging-house, where Mrs. Weston and the boy were grappling with the +luggage. + +'May I ask--' Sir William's smile as he looked from one to the other +expressed that loosening of conventions in which we have all lived since +the war--'Are you home on leave, or--' + +'I came home to be married,' said the young soldier, flushing slightly, +while his eyes crossed those of the young girl beside him. 'I've got a +week more.' + +'You've been out some time?' + +'Since last November. I got a scratch in the Ypres fight in April--oh, +nothing--a small flesh wound--but they gave me a month's leave, and my +medical board has only just passed me.' + +'Lanchesters?' said Sir William, looking at his cap. The other nodded +pleasantly. + +'Well, I am sure I hope you'll have good weather here,' said Sir +William, stepping back, and once more raising his hat to the bride. +'And--if there was Anything I could do to help your stay--' + +'Oh, thank you, Sir, but--' + +The pair smiled again at each other. Sir William understood, and smiled +too. A more engaging couple he thought he had never seen. The young man +was not exactly handsome, but he had a pair of charming hazel eyes, a +good-tempered mouth, and a really fine brow. He was tall too, and well +proportioned, and looked the pick of physical fitness. 'Just the kind of +splendid stuff we are sending out by the ship-load,' thought the elder +man, with a pang of envy--'And the girl's lovely!' + +She was at that moment bowing to him, as she followed her husband across +the road. A thought occurred to Sir William, and he pursued her. + +'I wonder--' he said diffidently--'if you care for boating--if you would +like to boat on the lake--' + +'Oh, but it isn't allowed!' She turned on him a pair of astonished eyes. + +'Not in general. Ah, I see you know these parts already. But I happen to +know the owner of the boathouse. Shall I get you leave?' + +'Oh, that _would_ be delightful!' she said, her face kindling with a +child's joyousness. 'That _is_ kind of you! Our name is Sarratt--my +husband is Lieutenant Sarratt.' + +--'Of the 21st Lanchesters? All right--I'll see to it!' + +And he ran back to his car, while the young people disappeared into the +little entrance hall of the lodging-house, and the door shut upon them. + +Miss Farrell received her brother with gibes. Trust William for finding +out a beauty! Who were they? + +Farrell handed on his information as the car sped along the Keswick +road. + +'Going back in a week, is he?' said the convalescent officer beside him. +Then, bitterly--'lucky dog!' + +Farrell looked at the speaker kindly. + +'What--with a wife to leave?' + +The boy, for he was little more, shrugged his shoulders. At that moment +he knew no passion but the passion for the regiment and his men, to whom +he couldn't get back, because his 'beastly constitution' wouldn't let +him recover as quickly as other men did. What did women matter?--when +the 'push' might be on, any day. + +Cicely Farrell continued to chaff her brother, who took it +placidly--fortified by a big cigar. + +'And if she'd been plain, Willy, you'd never have so much as known she +was there! Did you tell her you haunted these parts?' + +He shook his head. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile the bride and bridegroom had been met on the lodging-house +stairs by the bride's sister, who allowed herself to be kissed by the +bridegroom, and hugged by the bride. Her lack of effusion, however, made +little impression on the newcomers. They were in that state of happiness +which transfigures everything round it; they were delighted with the +smallest things; with the little lodging-house sitting room, its windows +open to the lake and river; with its muslin curtains, very clean and +white, its duster-rose too, just outside the window; with Mrs. Weston, +who in her friendly flurry had greeted the bride as 'Miss Nelly,' and +was bustling to get the tea; even, indeed, with Bridget Cookson's few +casual attentions to them. Mrs. Sarratt thought it 'dear' of Bridget to +have come to meet them, and ordered tea for them, and put those +delicious roses in her room-- + +'I didn't!' said Bridget, drily. 'That was Milly. It didn't occur to +me.' + +The bride looked a little checked. But then the tea came in, a real +Westmorland meal, with its toasted bun, its jam, and its 'twist' of new +bread; and Nelly Sarratt forgot everything but the pleasure of making +her husband eat, of filling his cup for him, of looking sometimes +through the window at that shining lake, beside which she and George +would soon be roaming--for six long days. Yes, and nights too. For there +was a moon rising, which would be at the full in two or three days. +Imagination flew forward, as she leant dreamily back in her chair when +the meal was over, her eyes on the landscape. They two alone--on that +warm summer lake--drifting in the moonlight--heart against heart, cheek +against cheek. A shiver ran through her, which was partly passion, +partly a dull fear. But she banished fear. Nothing--_nothing_ should +spoil their week together. + +'Darling!' said her husband, who had been watching her--'You're not very +tired?' He slipped his hand round hers, and her fingers rested in his +clasp, delighted to feel themselves so small, and his so strong. He had +spoken to her in the low voice that was hers alone. She was jealous lest +Bridget should have overheard it. But Bridget was at the other end of +the room. How foolish it had been of her--just because she was so happy, +and wanted to be nice to everybody!--to have asked Bridget to stay with +them! She was always doing silly things like that--impulsive things. But +now she was married. She must think more. It was really very considerate +of Bridget to have got them all out of a difficulty and to have settled +herself a mile away from them; though at first it had seemed rather +unkind. Now they could see her always sometime in the day, but not so as +to interfere. She was afraid Bridget and George would never really get +on, though she--Nelly--wanted to forget all the unpleasantness there had +been,--to forget everything--everything but George. The fortnight's +honeymoon lay like a haze of sunlight between her and the past. + +But Bridget had noticed the voice and the clasped hands,--with +irritation. Really, after a fortnight, they might have done with that +kind of demonstrativeness. All the same, Nelly was quite extraordinarily +pretty--prettier than ever. While the sister was slowly putting on her +hat before the only mirror the sitting-room possessed, she was keenly +conscious of the two figures near the window, of the man in khaki +sitting on the arm of Nelly's chair, holding her hand, and looking down +upon her, of Nelly's flushed cheek and bending head. What a baby she +looked!--scarcely seventeen. Yet she was really twenty-one--old enough, +by a long way, to have done better for herself than this! Oh, George, in +himself, was well enough. If he came back from the war, his new-made +sister-in-law supposed she would get used to him in time. Bridget +however did not find it easy to get on with men, especially young men, +of whom she knew very few. For eight or ten years now, she had looked +upon them chiefly as awkward and inconvenient facts in women's lives. +Before that time, she could remember a few silly feelings on her own +part, especially with regard to a young clerk of her father's, who had +made love to her up to the very day when he shamefacedly told her that +he was already engaged, and would soon be married. That event had been a +shock to her, and had made her cautious and suspicious towards men ever +since. Her life was now full of quite other interests--incoherent and +changeable, but strong while they lasted. Nelly's state of bliss awoke +no answering sympathy in her. + +'Well, good-bye, Nelly,' she said, when she had put on her +things--advancing towards them, while the lieutenant rose to his feet. +'I expect Mrs. Weston will make you comfortable. I ordered in all the +things for to-morrow.' + +'Everything's _charming_!' said Nelly, as she put her arms round her +sister. 'It was awfully good of you to see to it all. Will you come over +to lunch to-morrow? We might take you somewhere.' + +'Oh, don't bother about me! You won't want me. I'll look in some time. +I've got a lot of work to do.' + +Nelly withdrew her arms. George Sarratt surveyed his sister-in-law with +curiosity. + +'Work?' he repeated, with his pleasant, rather puzzled smile. + +'What are you doing now, Bridget?' said Nelly, softly, stroking the +sleeve of her sister's jacket, but really conscious only of the man +beside her. + +'Reading some proof-sheets for a friend,' was the rather short reply, as +Bridget released herself. + +'Something dreadfully difficult?' laughed Nelly. + +'I don't know what you mean by difficult,' said Bridget ungraciously, +looking for her gloves. 'It's psychology--that's all. Lucy Fenn's +bringing out another volume of essays.' + +'It sounds awful!' said George Sarratt, laughing. 'I wish I knew what +psychology was about. But can't you take a holiday?--just this week?' + +He looked at her rather gravely. But Bridget shook her head, and again +said good-bye. George Sarratt took her downstairs, and saw her off on +her bicycle. Then he returned smiling, to his wife. + +'I say, Bridget makes me feel a dunce! Is she really such a learned +party?' + +Nelly's dark eyes danced a little. 'I suppose she is--but she doesn't +stick to anything. It's always something different. A few months ago, it +was geology; and we used to go out for walks with a hammer and a bag. +Last year it was _the_-ology! Our poor clergyman, Mr. Richardson, was no +match for Bridget at all. She could always bowl him over.' + +'Somehow all the "ologies" seem very far away--don't they?' murmured +Sarratt, after they had laughed together. They were standing at the +window again, his arm close round her, her small dark head pressed +against him. There was ecstasy in their nearness to each other--in the +silver beauty of the lake--in the soft coming of the June evening; and +in that stern fact itself that in one short week, he would have left +her, would be facing death or mutilation, day after day, in the trenches +on the Ypres salient. While he held her, all sorts of images flitted +through his mind--of which he would not have told her for the +world--horrible facts of bloody war. In eight months he had seen plenty +of them. The signs of them were graven on his young face, on his eyes, +round which a slight permanent frown, as of perplexity, seemed to have +settled, and on his mouth which was no longer naif and boyish, but would +always drop with repose into a hard compressed line. + +Nelly looked up. + +'Everything's far away'--she whispered--'but this--and you!' He kissed +her upturned lips--and there was silence. + +Then a robin singing outside in the evening hush, sent a message to +them. Nelly with an effort drew herself away. + +'Shan't we go out? We'll tell Mrs. Weston to put supper on the table, +and we can come in when we like. But I'll just unpack a little first--in +our room.' + +She disappeared through a door at the end of the sitting-room. Her last +words--softly spoken--produced a kind of shock of joy in Sarratt. He sat +motionless, hearing the echo of them, till she reappeared. When she came +back, she had taken off her serge travelling dress and was wearing a +little gown of some white cotton stuff, with a blue cloak, the evening +having turned chilly, and a hat with a blue ribbon. In this garb she was +a vision of innocent beauty; wherein refinement and a touch of +strangeness combined with the dark brilliance of eyes and hair, with the +pale, slightly sunburnt skin, the small features and tiny throat, to +rivet the spectator. And she probably knew it, for she flushed slightly +under her husband's eyes. + +'Oh, what a paradise!' she said, under her breath, pointing to the scene +beyond the window. Then--lifting appealing hands to him--'Take me +there!' + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The newly-married pair crossed a wooden bridge over the stream from the +Lake, and found themselves on its further shore, a shore as untouched +and unspoilt now as when Wordsworth knew it, a hundred years ago. The +sun had only just vanished out of sight behind the Grasmere fells, and +the long Westmorland after-glow would linger for nearly a couple of +hours yet. After much rain the skies were clear, and all the omens fair. +But the rain had left its laughing message behind; in the full river, in +the streams leaping down the fells, in the freshness of every living +thing--the new-leafed trees, the grass with its flowers, the rushes +spreading their light armies through the flooded margins of the lake, +and bending to the light wind, which had just, as though in mischief, +blotted out the dream-world in the water, and set it rippling eastwards +in one sheet of living silver, broken only by a cloud-shadow at its +further end. Fragrance was everywhere--from the trees, the young fern, +the grass; and from the shining west, the shadowed fells, the brilliant +water, there breathed a voice of triumphant beauty, of unconquered +peace, which presently affected George Sarratt strangely. + +They had just passed through a little wood; and in its friendly gloom, +he had put his arm round his wife so that they had lingered a little, +loth to leave its shelter. But now they had emerged again upon the +radiance of the fell-side, and he had found a stone for Nelly to rest +on. + +'That those places in France, and that sky--should be in the same +world!' he said, under his breath, pointing to the glow on the eastern +fells, as he threw himself down on the turf beside her. + +Her face flushed with exercise and happiness suddenly darkened. + +'Don't--don't talk of them to-night!'--she said passionately--'not +to-night--just to-night, George!' + +And she stooped impetuously to lay her hand on his lips. He kissed the +hand, held it, and remained silent, his eyes fixed upon the lake. On +that day week he would probably just have rejoined his regiment. It was +somewhere in the neighbourhood of Bailleul. Hot work, he heard, was +expected. There was still a scandalous shortage of ammunition--and if +there was really to be a 'push,' the losses would be appalling. Man +after man that he knew had been killed within a week--two or three +days--twenty-four hours even!--of rejoining. Supposing that within a +fortnight Nelly sat here, looking at this lake, with the War Office +telegram in her hand--'Deeply regret to inform you, etc.' This was not a +subject on which he had ever allowed himself to dwell, more than in his +changed circumstances he was bound to dwell. Every soldier, normally, +expects to get through. But of course he had done everything that was +necessary for Nelly. His will was in the proper hands; and the night +before their wedding he had written a letter to her, to be given her if +he fell. Otherwise he had taken little account of possible death; nor +had it cost him any trouble to banish the thought of it. + +But the beauty of the evening--of this old earth, which takes no account +of the perishing of men--and Nelly's warm life beside him, hanging upon +his, perhaps already containing within it the mysterious promise of +another life, had suddenly brought upon him a tremor of soul--an inward +shudder. Did he really believe in existence after death--in a meeting +again, in some dim other scene, if they were violently parted now? He +had been confirmed while at school. His parents were Church people of a +rather languid type, and it seemed the natural thing to do. Since then +he had occasionally taken the Communion, largely to please an elder +school-friend, who was ardently devout, and was now a Chaplain on the +Western front. But what did it really mean to him?--what would it mean +to _her_--if she were left alone? Images passed through his mind--the +sights of the trenches--shattered and dying bodies. What was the +_soul_?--had it really an independent life? _Something_ there was in +men--quite rough and common men--something revealed by war and the +sufferings of war--so splendid, so infinitely beyond anything he had +ever dreamed of in ordinary life, that to think of it roused in him a +passion of hidden feeling--perhaps adoration--but vague and +speechless--adoration of he knew not what. He did not speak easily of +his feeling, even to his young wife, to whom marriage had so closely, so +ineffably bound him. But as he lay on the grass looking up at +her--smiling--obeying her command of silence, his thoughts ranged +irrepressibly. Supposing he fell, and she lived on--years and years--to +be an old woman? Old! Nelly? Impossible! He put his hand gently on the +slender foot, and felt the pulsing life in it. 'Dearest!' she murmured +at his touch, and their eyes met tenderly. + +'I should be content--' he thought--'if we could just live _this_ life +out! I don't believe I should want another life. But to go--and leave +her; to go--just at the beginning--before one knows anything--before one +has finished anything--' + +And again his eyes wandered from her to the suffusion of light and +colour on the lake. 'How could anyone ever want anything better than +this earth--this life--at its best--if only one were allowed a full and +normal share of it!' And he thought again, almost with a leap of +exasperation, of those dead and mangled men--out there--in France. Who +was responsible--God?--or man? But man's will is--must be--something +dependent--something included in God's will. If God really existed, and +if He willed war, and sudden death--then there must be another life. Or +else the power that devised the world was not a good, but an evil--at +best, a blind one. + +But while his young brain was racing through the old puzzles in the old +ways, Nelly was thinking of something quite different. Her delicate +small face kept breaking into little smiles with pensive intervals--till +at last she broke out-- + +'Do you remember how I caught you--turning back to look after us--just +here--just about here? You had passed that thorn tree--' + +He came back to love-making with delight. + +'"Caught me!" I like that! As if you weren't looking back too! How else +did you know anything about me?' + +He had taken his seat beside her on the rock, and her curly black head +was nestling against his shoulder. There was no one on the mountain +path, no one on the lake. Occasionally from the main road on the +opposite shore there was a passing sound of wheels. Otherwise the world +was theirs--its abysses of shadow, its 'majesties of light.' + +She laughed joyously, not attempting to contradict him. It was on this +very path, just two months before the war, that they had first seen each +other. She with her father and Bridget were staying at Mrs. Weston's +lodgings, because she, Nelly, had had influenza, and the doctor had sent +her away for a change. They knew the Lakes well already, as is the way +of Manchester folk. Their father, a hard-worked, and often melancholy +man, had delighted in them, summer and winter, and his two girls had +trudged about the fells with him year after year, and wanted nothing +different or better. At least, Nelly had always been content. Bridget +had grumbled often, and proposed Blackpool, or Llandudno, or Eastbourne +for a change. But their father did not like 'crowds.' They came to the +Lakes always before or after the regular season. Mr. Cookson hated the +concourse of motorists in August, and never would use one himself. Not +even when they went from Ambleside to Keswick. They must always walk, or +go by the horse-coach. + +Nelly presently looked up, and gave a little pull to the corner of her +husband's moustache. + +'Of course you know you behaved abominably that next day at Wythburn! +You kept that whole party waiting while you ran after us. And I hadn't +dropped that bag. You knew very well I hadn't dropped it!' + +He chuckled. + +'It did as well as anything else. I got five minutes' talk with you. I +found out where you lodged.' + +'Poor papa!'--said Nelly reflectively--'he was so puzzled. "There's that +fellow we saw at Wythburn again! Why on earth does he come here to fish? +I never saw anybody catch a thing in this bit of the river." Poor papa!' + +They were both silent a little. Mr. Cookson had not lived long enough to +see Nelly and George Sarratt engaged. The war had killed him. Financial +embarrassment was already closing on him when it broke out, and he +could not stand the shock and the general dislocation of the first +weeks, as sounder men could. The terror of ruin broke him down--and he +was dead before Christmas, nominally of bronchitis and heart failure. +Nelly had worn mourning for him up to her wedding day. She had been very +sorry for 'poor papa'--and very fond of him; whereas Bridget had been +rather hard on him always. For really he had done his best. After all he +had left them just enough to live upon. Nelly's conscience, grown +tenderer than of old under the touch of joy, pricked her as she thought +of her father. She knew he had loved her best of his two daughters. She +would always remember his last lingering hand-clasp, always be thankful +for his last few words--'God bless you, dear.' But had she cared for him +enough in return?--had she really tried to understand him? Some +vague sense of the pathos of age--of its isolation--its dumb +renouncements--gripped her. If he had only lived longer! He would have +been so proud of George. + +She roused herself. + +'You did really make up your mind--_then_?' she asked him, just for the +pleasure of hearing him confess it again. + +'Of course I did! But what was the good?' + +She knew that he meant it had been impossible to speak while his mother +was still alive, and he, her only child, was partly dependent upon her. +But his mother had died not long after Nelly's father, and her little +income had come to her son. So now what with Nelly's small portion, and +his mother's two hundred and fifty a year in addition to his pay, the +young subaltern thought himself almost rich--in comparison with so many +others. His father, who had died while he was still at school, had been +a master at Harrow, and he had been brought up in a refined home, with +high standards and ideals. A scholarship at Oxford at one of the smaller +colleges, a creditable degree, then an opening in the office of a +well-known firm of solicitors, friends of his father, and a temporary +commission, as soon as war broke out, on his record as a keen and +diligent member of the Harrow and Oxford O.T.C.'s:--these had been the +chief facts of his life up to August 1914;--that August which covered +the roads leading to the Aldershot headquarters, day by day, with the +ever-renewed columns of the army to be, with masses of marching men, +whose eager eyes said one thing only--'_Training_!--_training_!' + +The war, and the causes of the war, had moved his nature, which was +sincere and upright, profoundly; all the more perhaps because of a +certain kindling and awakening of the whole man, which had come from his +first sight of Nelly Cookson in the previous June, and from his growing +friendship with her--which he must not yet call love. He had decided +however after three meetings with her that he would never marry anyone +else. Her softness, her yieldingness, her delicate beauty intoxicated +him. He rejoiced that she was no 'new woman,' but only a very girlish +and undeveloped creature, who would naturally want his protection as +well as his love. For it was his character to protect and serve. He had +protected and served his mother--faithfully and well. And as she was +dying, he had told her about Nelly--not before; only to find that she +knew it all, and that the only soreness he had ever caused her came from +the secrecy which he had tenderly thought her due. + +But for all his sanity and sweet temper there was a hard tough strain in +him, which had made war so far, even through the horrors of it, a great +absorbing game to him, for which he knew himself fitted, in which he +meant to excel. Several times during the fighting that led up to Neuve +Chapelle he had drawn the attention of his superiors, both for bravery +and judgment; and after Neuve Chapelle, he had been mentioned in +despatches. He had never yet known fear in the field--never even such a +shudder at the unknown--which was yet the possible!--as he had just been +conscious of. His nerves had always been strong, his nature was in the +main simple. Yet for him, as well as for so many other 'fellows' he +knew, the war had meant a great deal of this new and puzzled +thinking--on problems of right and wrong, of 'whence' and 'whither,' of +the personal value of men--this man, or that man. By George, war brought +them out!--these personal values. And the general result for him, up to +now,--had he been specially lucky?--had been a vast increase of faith in +his fellow men, yes, and faith in himself, modest as he was. He was +proud to be an English soldier--proud to the roots of his being. His +quiet patriotism had become a passion; he knew now in what he had +believed. + +Yes--England for ever! An English home after the war--and English +children. Oh, he hoped Nelly would have children! As he held her pressed +against him, he seemed to see her in the future--with the small things +round her. But he did not speak of it. + +She meanwhile was thinking of quite other things, and presently she said +in a quick, troubled voice-- + +'George!--while you are away--you don't want me to do munitions?' + +He laughed out. + +'Munitions! I see you at a lathe! Dear--I don't think you'd earn your +keep!' And he lifted her delicate arm and tiny hand, and looked at them +with scientific curiosity. Her frail build was a constant wonder and +pleasure to him. But small as she was, there was something unusual, some +prophecy, perhaps, of developments to come, in the carriage of her head, +and in some of her looks. Her education had been extremely slight, many +of her ideas were still childish, and the circle from which she came had +been inferior in birth and breeding to his own. But he had soon realised +on their honeymoon, in spite of her simple talk, that she was very +quick--very intelligent. + +'Because--' she went on, doubtfully--'there are so many other things I +could do--quite useful things. There's sphagnum moss! Everybody up here +is gathering sphagnum moss--you know--for bandages--upon the fells. I +daresay Bridget might help in that. She won't do any other sort of +war-work.' + +'Why, I thought all women were doing some kind of war-work!' + +'Bridget won't. She doesn't want to hear about the war at all. She's +bored with it.' + +'Bored with it! Good heavens!' Sarratt's countenance clouded. +'Darling--that'll be rather hard on you, if you and she are going to +live together.' + +Nelly lifted her head from his shoulder, and looked at him rather +gravely. + +'I'm afraid you don't know much about Bridget, George. She's,--well, +she's--one of the--oddest women you ever met.' + +'So it seems! But why is she bored with the war?' + +'Well--you see--it doesn't matter to _her_ in any way--and she doesn't +want it to matter to her. There's nobody in it she cares about.' + +'Thanks!' laughed Sarratt. But Nelly still grave, shook her head. 'Oh, +she's not the least like other people. She won't care about you, George, +just because you've married me. And--' + +'And what? Is she still angry with me for not being rich?' + +And his thoughts went back to his first interview with Bridget +Cookson--on the day when their engagement was announced. He could see +the tall sharp-featured woman now, standing with her back to the light +in the little sitting-room of the Manchester lodgings. She had not been +fierce or abusive at all. She had accepted it quietly--with only a few +bitter sentences. + +'All right, Mr. Sarratt. I have nothing to say. Nelly must please +herself. But you've done her an injury! There are plenty of rich men +that would have married her. You're very poor--and so are we.' + +When the words were spoken, Nelly had just accepted him; she was her own +mistress; he had not therefore taken her sister's disapproval much to +heart. Still the words had rankled. + +'Darling!--when I made you marry me--_did_ I do you an injury?' he said +suddenly, as they were walking again hand in hand along the high green +path with the lake at their feet, and a vision of blue and rose before +them, in the shadowed western mountains, the lower grounds steeped in +fiery light, and the red reflections in the still water. + +'What _do_ you mean?' said Nelly, turning upon him a face of wonder. + +'Well, that was what Bridget said to me, when I told her that you had +accepted me. But I was a great fool to tell you, darling! I'm sorry I +did. It was only--' + +'"Injury,"' repeated Nelly, not listening to him. 'Oh, yes, of course +that was money. Bridget says it's all nonsense talking about honour, or +love, or that kind of thing. Everything is really money. It was money +that began this war. The Germans wanted our trade and our money--and we +were determined they shouldn't have them--and that's all there is in it. +With money you can have everything you want and a jolly life--and +without money you can have nothing,--and are just nobody. When that rich +old horror wanted to marry me last year in Manchester, Bridget thought +me perfectly mad to refuse him. She didn't speak to me for a week. Of +course he would have provided for her too.' + +Sarratt had flushed hotly; but he spoke good-naturedly. + +'Well, that was a miss for her--I quite see that. But after all we can +help her a bit. We shall always feel that we must look after her. And +why shouldn't she herself marry?' + +Nelly laughed. + +'Never! She hates men.' + +There was a silence a moment. And then Sarratt said, rather gravely--'I +say, darling, if she's going to make you miserable while I am away, +hadn't we better make some other arrangement? I thought of course she +would be good to you, and look after you! Naturally any sister would, +that was worth her salt!' + +And he looked down indignantly on the little figure beside him. But it +roused Nelly's mirth that he should put it in that way. + +'George,--you _are_ such a darling!--and--and, such a goose!' She rubbed +her cheek against his arm as though to take the edge off the epithet. +'The idea of Bridget's wanting to "look after" me! She'll want to +_manage_ me of course--and I'd much better let her do it. I don't mind!' +And the speaker gave a long, sudden sigh. + +'But I won't have you troubled and worried, when I'm not there to +protect you!' cried Sarratt, fiercely. 'You could easily find a friend.' + +But Nelly shook her head. + +'Oh, no. That wouldn't do. Bridget and I always get on, George. We never +quarrelled--except when I stuck to marrying you. Generally--I always +give in. It doesn't matter. It answers perfectly.' + +She spoke with a kind of languid softness which puzzled him. + +'But now you can't always give in, dearest! You belong to me!' And his +grasp tightened on the hand he held. + +'I can give in enough--to keep the peace,' said Nelly slowly. 'And if +you weren't here, it wouldn't be natural that I shouldn't live with +Bridget. I'm used to her. Only I want to make you understand her, +darling. She's not a bit like--well, like the people you admire, and its +no good expecting her to be.' + +'I shall talk to her before I go!' he said, half laughing, half +resolved. + +Nelly looked alarmed. + +'No--please don't! She always gets the better of people who scold her. +Or if you were to get the better, then she'd visit it on me. And now +don't let's talk of her any more! What were we saying? Oh, I know--what +I was to do. Let's sit down again,--there's a rock, made for us.' + +And on a natural seat under a sheltering rock canopied and hung with +fern, the two rested once more, wrapped in one cloak, close beside the +water, which was quiet again, and crossed by the magical lights and +splendid shadows of the dying sunset. Nelly had been full of plans when +they sat down, but the nearness of the man she loved, his arm round her, +his life beating as it were in one pulse with hers, intoxicated, and for +a time silenced her. She had taken off her hat, and she lay quietly +against him in the warm shelter of the cloak. He thought presently she +was asleep. How small and dear she was! He bent over her, watching as +closely as the now dim light allowed, the dark eyelashes lying on her +cheek, her closed mouth, and soft breathing. His very own!--the thought +was ecstasy--he forgot the war, and the few days left him. + +But this very intensity of brooding love in which he held her, made her +restless after a little. She sat up, and smiled at him-- + +'We must go home!--Yes, we must. But look!--there is a boat!' + +And only a few yards from them, emerging from the shadows, they saw a +boat rocking gently at anchor beside a tiny landing-stage. Nelly sprang +to her feet. + +'George!--suppose you were just to row us out--there--into the light!' + +But when they came to the boat they found it pad-locked to a post in the +little pier. + +'Ah, well, never mind,' said Nelly--'I'm sure that man won't forget?' + +'That man who spoke to us? Who was he?' + +'Oh, I found out from Bridget, and Mrs. Weston. He's Sir William +Farrell, a great swell, tremendously rich. He has a big place somewhere, +out beyond Keswick, beyond Bassenthwaite. You saw he had a stiff knee?' + +'Yes. Can't fight, I suppose--poor beggar! He was very much struck by +_you_, Mrs. George Sarratt!--that was plain.' + +Nelly laughed--a happy childish laugh. + +'Well, if he does get us leave to boat, you needn't mind, need you? What +else, I wonder, could he do for us?' + +'Nothing!' The tone was decided. 'I don't like being beholden to great +folk. But that, I suppose, is the kind of man whom Bridget would have +liked you to marry, darling?' + +'As if he would ever have looked at me!' said Nelly tranquilly. 'A man +like that may be as rich as rich, but he would never marry a poor wife.' + +'Thank God, I don't believe money will matter nearly as much to people, +after the war!' said Sarratt, with energy. 'It's astonishing how now, in +the army--of course it wasn't the same before the war--you forget it +entirely. Who cares whether a man's rich, or who's son he is? In my +batch when I went up to Aldershot there were men of all sorts, +stock-brokers, landowners, city men, manufacturers, solicitors, some of +them awfully rich, and then clerks, and schoolmasters, and lots of poor +devils, like myself. We didn't care a rap, except whether a man took to +his drill, or didn't; whether he was going to keep the Company back or +help it on. And it's just the same in the field. Nothing counts but what +you _are_--it doesn't matter a brass hap'orth what you have. And as the +new armies come along that'll be so more and more. It's "Duke's son and +Cook's son," everywhere, and all the time. If it was that in the South +African war, it's twenty times that now. This war is bringing the nation +together as nothing ever has done, or could do. War is hellish!--but +there's a deal to be said for it!' + +He spoke with ardour, as they strolled homeward, along the darkening +shore, she hanging on his arm. Nelly said nothing. Her little face +showed very white in the gathering shadows. He went on. + +'There was a Second Lieutenant in our battalion, an awfully handsome +boy--heir to a peerage I think. But he couldn't get a commission quick +enough to please him when the war broke out, so he just enlisted--oh! of +course they've given him a commission long ago. But his great friend was +a young miner, who spoke broad Northumberland, a jolly chap. And these +two stuck together--we used to call them the Heavenly Twins. And in the +fighting round Hill 60, the miner got wounded, and lay out between the +lines, with the Boche shells making hell round him. And the other fellow +never rested till he'd crawled out to him, and taken him water, and tied +him up, and made a kind of shelter for him. The miner was a big fellow, +and the other was just a slip of a boy. So he couldn't drag in his +friend, but he got another man to go out with him, and between them they +did it right enough. And when I was in the clearing station next day, I +saw the two--the miner in bed, awfully smashed up, and the other sitting +by him. It made one feel choky. The boy could have put down a cool +hundred thousand, I suppose, if it could have done any good. But it +wouldn't. I can tell you, darling, this war knocks the nonsense out of a +man!' + +'But Bridget is a woman!' said a dreamy voice beside him. + +Sarratt laughed; but he was launched on recollections and could not stop +himself. Apparently everybody in his company was a hero, and had +deserved the Military Cross ten times over, except himself. He described +some incidents he had personally seen, and through the repressed fire +with which he spoke, the personality and ideals of the man revealed +themselves--normal, strong, self-forgetting. Had he even forgotten the +little creature beside him? Hardly, for instinctively he softened away +some of the terrible details of blood and pain. But he had forgotten +Nelly's prohibition. And when again they had entered the dark wood which +lay between them and the cottage on the river-bank, suddenly he heard a +trembling breath, and a sob. + +He caught her in his arms. + +'Nelly, darling! Oh, I was a brute to talk to you like this.' + +'No,' she said, struggling with herself--'No! Wait a moment.' She lay +against him trembling through every limb, while he kissed and comforted +her. + +'I'm--I'm not a coward, George!' she said at last, gasping,--'I'm not +indeed. Only--well, this morning I had about a hundred and seventy hours +left--I counted them. And now there are fifteen less. And all the time, +while we talk, they are slipping away, so quick--so quick--' + +But she was regaining self-control, and soon released herself. + +'I won't do it again!' she said piteously, in the tone of a penitent +child. 'I won't indeed. Let's go home. I'm all right.' + +And home they sped, hand in hand, silently. The little room when they +re-entered it was bright with firelight, because kind Mrs. Weston had +thought the flight chilly, and the white table laid out for them--its +pretty china and simple fare--tempted and cheered them with its look of +home. But Nelly lay on the sofa afterwards very pale, though smiling and +talking as usual. And through the night she was haunted, sleeping and +waking, by the image of the solitary boat rocking gently on the moonlit +lake, the water lapping its sides. She saw herself and George adrift in +it--sailing into--disappearing in--that radiance of silver light. +Sleepily she hoped that Sir William Farrell would not forget his +promise. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +May I come in?' + +Nelly Sarratt, who was standing beside the table in the sitting-room, +packing a small luncheon-basket with sandwiches and cake, looked up in +astonishment. Then she went to the door which was slightly ajar, and +opened it. + +She beheld a very tall man standing smiling on the threshold. + +'I hope I'm not disturbing you, Mrs. Sarratt--but I was on my way for a +day's sketching, and as my car passed your house, I thought I would like +to bring you, myself, the permission which I spoke of on Saturday. I +wrote yesterday, my friend was away from home but I got a telegram this +morning.' + +The visitor held out a telegram, which Nelly took in some bewilderment. +It fluttered her to be so much thought for by a stranger--and a stranger +moreover who seemed but to wave his wand and things were done. But she +thanked him heartily. + +'Won't you come in, Sir William?' she asked him, shyly. 'My husband will +be here directly.' + +It pleased him that she had found out who he was. He protested that he +mustn't stay a moment, but all the same he came in, and stood with his +hands in his pockets looking at the view. He seemed to Nelly to fill the +little sitting-room. Not that he was stout. There was not an ounce of +superfluous flesh on him anywhere. But he stood at least six foot four +in his boots; his shoulders were broad in proportion; and his head, with +its strong curly hair of a light golden brown, which was repeated in his +short beard, carried itself with the unconscious ease of one who has +never known anything but the upper seats of life. His features were +handsome, except for a broad irregular mouth, and his blue eyes were +kind and lazily humorous. + +'There's nothing better than that lake,' he said, motioning towards it, +with his hand, as though he followed the outlines of the hills. 'But I +never try to draw it. I leave that to the fellows who think they can! +I'm afraid your permit's only for a week, Mrs. Sarratt. The boat, I +find, will be wanted after that.' + +'Oh, but my husband will be gone in a week--less than a week. I couldn't +row myself!' said Nelly, smiling. + +But Sir William thought the smile trembled a little, and he felt very +sorry for the small, pretty creature. + +'You will be staying on here after your husband goes?' + +'Oh yes. My sister will be with me. We know the Lakes very well.' + +'Staying through the summer, I suppose?' 'I shan't want to move--if the +war goes on. We haven't any home of our own--yet.' + +She had seated herself, and spoke with the self-possession which belongs +to those who know themselves fair to look upon. But there seemed to be +no coquetry about her--no consciousness of a male to be attracted. All +her ways were very gentle and childish, and in her white dress she made +the same impression on Farrell as she had on Bridget, of +extreme--absurd--youthfulness. He guessed her age about nineteen, +perhaps younger. + +'I'm afraid the war will go on,' he said, kindly. 'We are only now just +finding out our deficiencies.' + +Nelly sighed. + +'I know--it's _awful_ how we want guns and shells! My husband says it +makes him savage to see how we lose men for want of them. _Why_ are we +so short? Whose fault is it?' + +A spot of angry colour had risen in her cheek. It was the dove defending +her mate. The change was lovely, and Farrell, with his artist's eye, +watched it eagerly. But he shook his head. + +'It's nobody's fault. It's all on such a scale--unheard of! Nobody could +have guessed before-hand--unless like Germany, we had been preparing for +years to rob and murder our neighbours. Well, Mrs. Sarratt, I must be +going on. But I wanted to say, that if we could do anything for +you--please command us. We live about twenty miles from here. My sister +hopes she may come and see you. And we have a big library at Carton. If +there are any books you want--' + +'Oh, how _very_ kind of you!' said Nelly gratefully. She had risen and +was standing beside him, looking at him with her dark, frank eyes. 'But +indeed I shall get on very well. There's a war workroom in Manchester, +which will send me work. And I shall try and help with the sphagnum +moss. There's a notice up near here, asking people to help. 'And +perhaps'--she laughed and colored--'I shall try to sketch a little. I +can't do it a bit--but it amuses me.' + +'Oh, you _draw_?' said Farrell, with a smile. Then, looking round him, +he noticed a portfolio on the table, with a paint box beside it. 'May I +look?' + +With rather red cheeks, Nelly showed her performances. She knew very +well, being accustomed to follow such things in the newspapers, that Sir +William Farrell had exhibited both in London and Manchester, and was +much admired by some of the critics. + +Farrell twisted his mouth over them a good deal, considering them +carefully. + +'Yes, I see--I see exactly where you are. Not bad at all, some of them. +I could lend you some things which would help you I think. Ah, here is +your husband.' + +George Sarratt entered, looking in some surprise at their very prompt +visitor, and a little inclined to stand on his guard against a patronage +that might be troublesome. But Farrell explained himself so +apologetically that the young man could only add his very hearty thanks +to his wife's. + +'Well, I really _must_ be off,' said Farrell again, looking for his hat. +'And I see you are going out for the day.' He glanced at the lunch +preparations. 'Do you know Loughrigg Tarn?' He turned to Nelly. + +'Oh, yes!' Her face glowed. 'Isn't it beautiful? But I don't think +George knows it.' She looked up at him. He smiled and shook his head. + +'I have a cottage there,' said Farrell, addressing Sarratt. 'Wordsworth +said it was like Nemi. It isn't:--but it's beautiful all the same. I +wish you would bring your wife there to tea with me one day before you +go? There is an old woman who looks after me. This view is fine'--he +pointed to the window--'but I think mine is finer.' + +'Thank you,' said Sarratt, rather formally--'but I am afraid our days +are getting pretty full.' + +'Of course, of course!' said Sir William, smiling. 'I only meant, if you +happened to be walking in that direction and want a rest. I have a +number of drawings there--my own and other people's, which Mrs. Sarratt +might care to see--sometime. You go on Saturday?' + +'Yes. I'm due to rejoin by Monday.' + +Farrell's expression darkened. + +'You see what keeps me?' he said, sharply, striking his left knee with +the flat of his hand. 'I had a bad fall, shooting in Scotland, years +ago--when I was quite a lad. Something went wrong in the knee-cap. The +doctors muffed it, and I have had a stiff knee ever since. I daresay +they'd give me work at the War Office--or the Admiralty. Lots of fellows +I know who can't serve are doing war-work of that kind. But I can't +stand office work--never could. It makes me ill, and in a week of it I +am fit to hang myself. I live out of doors. I've done some +recruiting--speaking for the Lord Lieutenant. But I can't speak worth a +cent--and I do no good. No fellow ever joined up because of my +eloquence!--couldn't if he tried. No--I've given up my house--it was the +best thing I could do. It's a jolly house, and I've got lots of jolly +things in it. But the War Office and I between us have turned it into a +capital hospital. We take men from the Border regiments mostly. I wonder +if I shall ever be able to live in it again! My sister and I are now in +the agent's house. I work at the hospital three or four days a week--and +then I come here and sketch. I don't see why I shouldn't.' + +He straightened his shoulder as though defying somebody. Yet there was +something appealing, and, as it were, boyish, in the defiance. The man's +patriotic conscience could be felt struggling with his dilettantism. +Sarratt suddenly liked him. + +'No, indeed,' he said heartily. 'Why shouldn't you?' 'It's when one +thinks of _your_ job, one feels a brute to be doing anything one likes.' + +'Well, you'd be doing the same job if you could. That's all right!' said +Sarratt smiling. + +It was curious how in a few minutes the young officer had come to seem +the older and more responsible of the two men. Yet Farrell was clearly +his senior by some ten or fifteen years. Instinctively Nelly moved +nearer to George. She liked to feel how easily he could hold his own +with great people, who made _her_ feel nervous. For she understood from +Mrs. Weston that the Farrells were very great people indeed, as to money +and county position, and that kind of thing. + +Sarratt took his visitor downstairs, and returned, laughing to himself. + +'Well, darling, I've promised we'll go to his cottage one day this week. +You've to let him know. He's an odd fellow! Reminds me of that story of +the young Don at Cambridge who spent all the time he could spare from +neglecting his duties in adorning his person. And yet that doesn't hit +it quite either. For I don't suppose he does spend much time in adorning +his person. He doesn't want it. He's such a splendid looking chap to +begin with. But I'm sure his duties have a poor time! Why, he told +me--me, an utter stranger!--as we went downstairs--that being a +landowner was the most boring trade in the world. He hated his tenants, +and turned all the bother of them over to his agents. "But they don't +hate me"--he said--"because I don't put the screw on. I'm rich enough +without." By Jove, he's a queer specimen!' + +And Sarratt laughed out, remembering some further items of the +conversation on the stairs. + +'Whom are you discussing?' said a cold voice in the background. + +It was Bridget Cookson's voice, and the husband and wife turned to greet +her. The day was balmy--June at its best. But Bridget as she came in had +the look of someone rasped with east wind. Nelly noticed too that since +her marriage, Bridget had developed an odd habit of not looking her--or +George--straight in the face. She looked sideways, as though determined +to avoid the mere sight of their youth and happiness. 'Is she going to +make a quarrel of it all our lives?' thought Nelly impatiently. 'And +when George is so nice to her! How can she be so silly!' + +'We were talking about our visitor who has just left,' said Sarratt, +clearing a chair for his sister-in-law. 'Ah, you came from the other +direction, you just missed him.' + +'The man'--said Nelly--'who was so awfully polite to me on Saturday--Sir +William Farrell.' + +Bridget's countenance lost its stiffness at once--became eager and +alert. + +'What did he come for?' + +'To bring us permission to use the boat for a week,' said Nelly. +'Wasn't it decent of him?--and to do it so quick!' + +'Oh, that's the Farrell way--always was,' said Bridget complacently, as +though she had the family in her pocket. 'When they think of a thing +it's done. It's hit or miss. They never stop to think.' + +Sarratt looked at his sister-in-law with a covert amusement. It was a +left-handed remark. But she went on--while Nelly finished the packing of +the luncheon-basket--pouring out a flood of gossip about the +Farrells's place near Cockermouth, their great relations, their wealth, +their pictures, and their china, while Sarratt walked up and down, +fidgeting with his mouth, and inwardly thanking his stars that his Nelly +was not the least like her sister, that she was as refined and +well-bred, as Bridget was beginning to seem to him vulgar and tiresome. +But he realised that there was a personality in the tall harsh woman; +that she might be formidable; and once or twice he found himself +watching the curious side-long action of her head and neck, and the play +of her eyes and mouth, with a mingling of close attention and strong +dislike. He kept his own counsel however; and presently he heard +Bridget, who had so far refused all their invitations to join their +walks or excursions, rather eagerly accepting Nelly's invitation to go +with them to Sir William's Loughrigg cottage. She knew all about it +apparently, and said it was 'a gem of a place!' Sir William kept an old +butler and his wife there--pensioned off--who looked after him when he +came. 'Everything's tiny,' said Bridget with emphasis--'but _perfect_! +Sir William has the most exquisite taste. But he never asks anybody to +go there. None of the neighbours know him. So of course they say its +"side," and he gives himself airs. Anyway, Nelly, you may think +yourselves highly honoured--' + +'Darling, isn't that basket ready?' said Sarratt, coming to his wife's +aid. 'We're losing the best of the day--and if Bridget really won't go +with us--' + +Bridget frowned and rose. + +'How are the proofs getting on?' said Sarratt, smiling, as she bade him +a careless good-bye. + +Bridget drew herself up. + +'I never talk about my work.' + +'I suppose that's a good rule,' he said doubtfully, 'especially now that +there's so much else to talk about. The Russian news to-day is pretty +bad!' + +A dark look of anxiety crossed the young man's face. For it was the days +of the great Russian retreat in Galicia and Poland, and every soldier +looking on, knew with gnashing of teeth that the happenings in the East +meant a long postponement of our own advance. + +'Oh, I never trouble about the war!' said Bridget, with a +half-contemptuous note in her voice that fairly set George Sarratt on +fire. He flushed violently, and Nelly looked at him in alarm. But he +said nothing. Nelly however with a merry side-glance at him, unseen by +Bridget, interposed to prevent him from escorting Bridget downstairs. +She went herself. Most sisters would have dispensed with or omitted this +small attention; but Nelly always treated Bridget with a certain +ceremony. When she returned, she threw her arms round George's neck, +half laughing, and half inclined to cry. + +'Oh, George, I do wish I had a nicer sister to give you!' But George had +entirely recovered himself. + +'We shall get on perfectly!' he declared, kissing the soft head that +leant against him. 'Give me a little time, darling. She's new to +me!--I'm new to her.' + +Nelly sighed, and went to put on her hat. In her opinion it was no more +easy to like Bridget after three years than three hours. It was certain +that she and George would never suit each other. At the same time Nelly +was quite conscious that she owed Bridget a good deal. But for the fact +that Bridget did the housekeeping, that Bridget saw to the investment of +their small moneys, and had generally managed the business of their +joint life, Nelly would not have been able to dream, and sketch, and +read, as it was her delight to do. It might be, as she had said to +Sarratt, that Bridget managed because she liked managing. All the same +Nelly knew, not without some prickings of conscience as to her own +dependence, that when George was gone, she would never be able to get on +without Bridget. + +Into what a world of delight the two plunged when they set forth! The +more it rains in the Westmorland country, the more heavenly are the days +when the clouds forget to rain! There were white flocks of them in the +June sky as the new-married pair crossed the wooden bridge beyond the +garden, leading to the further side of the lake, but they were sailing +serene and sunlit in the blue, as though their whole business were to +dapple the hills with blue and violet shadows, or sometimes to throw a +dazzling reflection down into the quiet water. There had been rain, +torrential rain, just before the Sarratts arrived, so that the river was +full and noisy, and all the little becks clattering down the fell, in +their haste to reach the lake, were boasting to the summer air, as +though in forty-eight hours of rainlessness they would not be as dry and +dumb as ever again. The air was fresh, in spite of the Midsummer sun, +and youth and health danced in the veins of the lovers. And yet not +without a touch of something feverish, something abnormal, because of +that day--that shrouded day--standing sentinel at the end of the week. +They never spoke of it, but they never forgot it. It entered into each +clinging grasp he gave her hand as he helped her up or down some steep +or rugged bit of path--into the lingering look of her brown eyes, which +thanked him, smiling--into the moments of silence, when they rested amid +the springing bracken, and the whole scene of mountain, cloud and water +spoke with that sudden tragic note of all supreme beauty, in a world of +'brittleness.' But they were not often silent. There was so much to +say. They were still exploring each other, after the hurry of their +marriage, and short engagement. For a time she chattered to him about +her own early life--their old red-brick house in a Manchester suburb, +with its good-sized rooms, its mahogany doors, its garden, in which her +father used to work--his only pleasure, after his wife's death, besides +'the concerts'--'You know we've awfully good music in Manchester!' As +for her own scattered and scanty education, she had begun to speak of it +almost with bitterness. George's talk and recollections betrayed quite +unconsciously the standards of the academic or highly-trained +professional class to which all his father's kindred belonged; and his +only sister, a remarkably gifted girl, who had died of pneumonia at +eighteen, just as she was going to Girton, seemed to Nelly, when he +occasionally described or referred to her, a miracle--a terrifying +miracle--of learning and accomplishment. + +Once indeed, she broke out in distress:--'Oh, George, I don't know +anything! Why wasn't I sent to school! We had a wretched little +governess who taught us nothing. And then I'm lazy--I never was +ambitious--like Bridget. Do you mind that I'm so stupid--do you mind?' + +And she laid her hands on his knee, as they sat together among the fern, +while her eyes searched his face in a real anxiety. + +What joy it was to laugh at her--to tease her! + +'_How_ stupid are you, darling? Tell me, exactly. It is of course a +terrible business. If I'd only known--' + +But she would be serious. + +'I don't know _any_ languages, George! Just a little French--but you'd +be ashamed if you heard me talking it. As to history--don't ask!' She +shrugged her shoulders despairingly. Then her face brightened. 'But +there's something! I do love poetry--I've read a lot of poetry.' + +'That's all right--so have I,' he said, promptly. + +'Isn't it strange--' her tone was thoughtful--'how people care for poetry +nowadays! A few years ago, one never heard of people--ordinary +people--_buying_ poetry, new poetry--or reading it. But I know a shop in +Manchester that's just full of poetry--new books and old books--and the +shop-man told me that people buy it almost more than anything. Isn't it +funny? What makes them do it? Is it the war?' + +Sarratt considered it, while making a smooth path for a gorgeous green +beetle through the bit of turf beside him. + +'I suppose it's the war,' he said at last. 'It does change fellows. It's +easy enough to go along bluffing and fooling in ordinary times. Most men +don't know what they think--or what they feel--or whether they feel +anything. But somehow--out there--when you see the things other fellows +are doing--when you know the things you may have to do yourself--well----' + +'Yes, yes--go on!' she said eagerly, and he went on, but reluctantly, +for he had seen her shiver, and the white lids fall a moment over her +eyes. + +'--It doesn't seem unnatural--or hypocritical--or canting--to talk and +feel--sometimes--as you couldn't talk or feel at home, with life going +on just as usual. I've had to censor letters, you see, darling--and the +letters some of the roughest and stupidest fellows write, you'd never +believe. And there's no pretence in it either. What would be the good of +pretending out there? No--it's just the pace life goes--and the +fire--and the strain of it. It's awful--and _horrible_--and yet you +wouldn't not be there for the world.' + +His voice dropped a little; he looked out with veiled eyes upon the lake +chequered with the blue and white of its inverted sky. Nelly +guessed--trembling--at the procession of images that was passing through +them; and felt for a moment strangely separated from him--separated and +desolate. + +'George, it's dreadful now--to be a woman!' + +She spoke in a low appealing voice, pressing up against him, as though +she begged the soul in him that had been momentarily unconscious of her, +to come back to her. + +He laughed, and the vision before his eyes broke up. + +'Darling, it's adorable now--to be a woman! How I shall think of you, +when I'm out there!--away from all the grime and the horror--sitting by +this lake, and looking--as you do now.' + +He drew a little further away from her, and lying on his elbows on the +grass, he began to read her, as it were, from top to toe, that he might +fix every detail in his mind. + +'I like that little hat so much, Nelly!--and that blue cloak is just +ripping! And what's that you've got at your waist--a silver +buckle?--yes! I gave it you. Mind you wear it, when I'm away, and tell +me you're wearing it--then I can fancy it.' + +'Will you ever have time--to think of me--George?' + +She bent towards him. + +He laughed. + +'Well, not when I'm going over the parapet to attack the Boches. +Honestly, one thinks of nothing then but how one can get one's men +across. But you won't come off badly, my little Nell--for +thoughts--night or day. And you mustn't think of us too sentimentally. +It's quite true that men write wonderful letters--and wonderful verse +too--men of all ranks--things you'd never dream they could write. I've +got a little pocket-book full that I've collected. I've left it in +London, but I'll show you some day. But bless you, nobody _talks_ about +their feelings at the front. We're a pretty slangy lot in the trenches, +and when we're in billets, we read novels and rag each other--and +_sleep_--my word, we do sleep!' + +He rolled on his back, and drew his hat over his eyes a moment, for +even in the fresh mountain air the June sun was fierce. Nelly sat still, +watching him, as he had watched her--all the young strength and +comeliness of the man to whom she had given herself. + +And as she did so there came swooping down upon her, like the blinding +wings of a Fury, the remembrance of a battle picture she had seen that +morning: a bursting shell--limp figures on the ground. Oh not +George--not _George_--never! The agony ran through her, and her fingers +gripped the turf beside her. Then it passed, and she was silently proud +that she had been able to hide it. But it had left her pale and +restless. She sprang up, and they went along the high path leading to +Grasmere and Langdale. + +Presently at the top of the little neck which separates Rydal from +Grasmere they came upon an odd cavalcade. In front walked an elderly +lady, with a huge open bag slung round her, in which she carried an +amazing load of the sphagnum moss that English and Scotch women were +gathering at that moment all over the English and Scotch mountains for +the surgical purposes of the war. Behind her came a pony, with a boy. +The pony was laden with the same moss, so was the boy. The lady's face +was purple with exertion, and in her best days she could never have been +other than plain; her figure was shapeless. She stopped the pony as she +neared the Sarratts, and addressed them--panting. + +'I beg your pardon!--but have you by chance seen another lady carrying +a bag like mine? I brought a friend with me to help gather this +stuff--but we seem to have missed each other on the top of Silver +How--and I can't imagine what's happened to her.' + +The voice was exceedingly musical and refined--but there was a touch of +power in it--a curious note of authority. She stood, recovering breath +and looking at the young people with clear and penetrating eyes, +suddenly observant. + +The Sarratts could only say that they had not come across any other +moss-gatherer on the road. + +The strange lady sighed--but with a half humorous, half philosophical +lifting of the eyebrows. + +'It was very stupid of me to miss her--but you really can't come to +grief on these fells in broad daylight. However, if you do meet her--a +lady with a sailor hat, and a blue jersey--will you tell her that I've +gone on to Ambleside?' + +Sarratt politely assured her that they would look out for her companion. +He had never yet seen a grey-haired Englishwoman, of that age, carry so +heavy a load, and he liked both her pluck and her voice. She reminded +him of the French peasant women in whose farms he often lodged behind +the lines. She meanwhile was scrutinising him--the badge on his cap, and +the two buttons on his khaki sleeve. + +'I think I know who you are,' she said, with a sudden smile. 'Aren't +you Mr. and Mrs. Sarratt? Sir William Farrell told me about you.' Then +she turned to the boy--'Go on, Jim. I'll come soon.' + +A conversation followed on the mountain path, in which their new +acquaintance gave her name as Miss Hester Martin, living in a cottage on +the outskirts of Ambleside, a cousin and old friend of Sir William +Farrell; an old friend indeed, it seemed, of all the local residents; +absorbed in war-work of different kinds, and somewhere near sixty years +of age; but evidently neither too old nor too busy to have lost the +natural interest of a kindly spinster in a bride and bridegroom, +especially when the bridegroom was in khaki, and under orders for the +front. She promised, at once, to come and see Mrs. Sarratt, and George, +beholding in her a possible motherly friend for Nelly when he should be +far away, insisted that she should fix a day for her call before his +departure. Nelly added her smiles to his. Then, with a pleasant nod, +Miss Martin left them, refusing all their offers to help her with her +load. '"My strength is as the strength of ten,"' she said with a flash +of fun in her eyes--'But I won't go on with the quotation. Good-bye.' + +George and Nelly went on towards a spot above a wood in front of them to +which she had directed them, as a good point to rest and lunch. She, +meanwhile, pursued her way towards Ambleside, her thoughts much more +occupied with the young couple than with her lost companion. The little +thing was a beauty, certainly. Easy to see what had attracted William +Farrell! An uncommon type--and a very artistic type; none of your +milk-maids. She supposed before long William would be proposing to draw +her--hm!--with the husband away? It was to be hoped some watch-dog would +be left. William was a good fellow--no real malice in him--had never +_meant_ to injure anybody, that she knew of--but-- + +Miss Martin's cogitations however went no farther in exploring that +'but.' She was really very fond of her cousin William, who bore an +amount of discipline from her that no one else dared to apply to the +owner of Carton. Tragic, that he couldn't fight! That would have brought +out all there was in him. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +'Glorious!' + +Nelly Sarratt stood lost in the beauty of the spectacle commanded by Sir +William Farrell's cottage. It was placed in a by-road on the western +side of Loughrigg, that smallest of real mountains, beloved of poets and +wanderers. The ground dropped sharply below it to a small lake or tarn, +its green banks fringed with wood, while on the further side the purple +crag and noble head of Wetherlam rose out of sunlit mist,--thereby +indefinitely heightened--into a pearl and azure sky. To the north also, +a splendid wilderness of fells, near and far; with the Pikes and Bowfell +leading the host. White mists--radiant mists--perpetually changing, made +a magic interweaving of fell with fell, of mountain with sky. Every tint +of blue and purple, of amethyst and sapphire lay melted in the chalice +carved out by the lake and its guardian mountains. Every line of that +chalice was harmonious as though each mountain and valley filled its +place consciously, in a living order; and in the grandeur of the whole +there was no terror, no hint of a world hostile and inaccessible to man, +as in the Alps and the Rockies. + +'These mountains are one's friends,' said Farrell, smiling as he stood +beside Nelly, pointing out the various peaks by name. 'If you know them +only a little, you can trust yourself to them, at any hour of the day or +night. Whereas, in the Alps, I always feel myself "a worm and no man"!' + +'I have never been abroad,' said Nelly shyly. + +For once he found an _ingénue_ attractive. + +'Then you have it to come--when the world is sane again. But some things +you will have missed for ever. For instance, you will never see +Rheims--as it was. I have spent months at Rheims in old days, drawing +and photographing. I must show you my things. They have a tragic value +now.' + +And taking out a portfolio from a rack near him, he opened it and put it +on a stand before her. + +Nelly, who had in her the real instincts of the artist, turned over some +very masterly drawings, in mingled delight and despair. + +'If I could only do something like that!' she said, pointing to a study +of some of the famous windows at Rheims, with vague forms of saint and +king emerging from a conflagration of colour, kindled by the afternoon +sun, and dyeing the pavement below. + +'Ah, that took me some time. It was difficult. But here are some +fragments you'll like--just bits from the façade and the monuments.' + +The strength of the handling excited her. She looked at them in silence; +remembering with disgust all the pretty sentimental work she had been +used to copy. She began to envisage what this commonly practised art +may be; what a master can do with it. Standards leaped up. Alp on Alp +appeared. When George was gone she would _work_, yes, she would work +hard--to surprise him when he came back. + +Sir William meanwhile was increasingly taken with his guest. She was +shy, very diffident, very young; but in the few things she said, he +discerned--or fancied--the stirrings of a real taste--real intelligence. +And she was prettier and more fetching than ever--with her small dark +head, and her lovely mouth. He would like to draw the free sensuous line +of it, the beautiful moulding of the chin. What a prize for the young +man! Was he aware of his own good fortune? Was he adequate? + +'I say, how jolly!' said Sarratt, coming up to look. 'My wife, Sir +William--I think she told you--has got a turn for this kind of thing. +These will give her ideas.' + +And while he looked at the drawings, he slipped a hand into his wife's +arm, smiling down upon her, and commenting on the sketches. There was +nothing in what he said. He only 'knew what he liked,' and an unfriendly +bystander would have been amused by his constant assumption that Nelly's +sketches were as good as anybody's. Entirely modest for himself, he was +inclined to be conceited for her, she checking him, with rather flushed +cheeks. But Farrell liked him all the better, both for the ignorance and +the pride. The two young people standing there together, so evidently +absorbed in each other, yet on the brink of no ordinary parting, touched +the romantic note in him. He was very sorry for them--especially for the +bride--and eagerly, impulsively wished to befriend them. + +In the background, the stout lady whom the Sarratts had met on Loughrigg +Terrace, Miss Hester Martin, was talking to Miss Farrell, while Bridget +Cookson was carrying on conversation with a tall officer who carried his +arm in a sling, and was apparently yet another convalescent officer from +the Carton hospital, whom Cicely Farrell had brought over in her motor +to tea at her brother's cottage. His name seemed to be Captain +Marsworth, and he was doing his best with Bridget; but there were great +gaps in their conversation, and Bridget resentfully thought him dull. +Also she perceived--for she had extremely quick eyes in such +matters--that Captain Marsworth, while talking to her, seemed to be +really watching Miss Farrell, and she at once jumped to the conclusion +that there was something 'up' between him and Miss Farrell. + +Cicely Farrell certainly took no notice of him. She was sitting perched +on the high end of a sofa smoking a cigarette and dangling her feet, +which were encased, as before, in high-heeled shoes and immaculate +gaiters. She was dressed in white serge with a cap and jersey of the +brightest possible green. Her very open bodice showed a string of fine +pearls and she wore pearl ear-rings. Seen in the same room with Nelly +Sarratt she could hardly be guessed at less than twenty-eight. She was +the mature woman in full possession of every feminine weapon, +experienced, subtle, conscious, a little hard, a little malicious. Nelly +Sarratt beside her looked a child. Miss Farrell had glanced at her with +curiosity, but had not addressed many words to her. She had concluded at +once that it was a type that did not interest her. It interested William +of course, because he was professionally on the look out for beauty. But +that was his affair. Miss Farrell had no use for anything so unfledged +and immature. And as for the sister, Miss Cookson, she had no points of +attraction whatever. The young man, the husband, was well +enough--apparently a gentleman; but Miss Farrell felt that she would +have forgotten his existence when the tea-party was over. So she had +fallen back on conversation with her cousin. That Cousin Hester--dear, +shapeless, Puritanical thing!--disapproved of her, her dress, her +smoking, her ways, and her opinions, Cicely well knew--but that only +gave zest to their meetings, which were not very frequent. + +Meanwhile Bridget, in lieu of conversation and while tea was still +preparing, was making mental notes of the cottage. It consisted +apparently of two sitting-rooms, and a studio--in which they were to +have tea--with two or three bedrooms above. It had been developed out of +a Westmorland farm, but developed beyond recognition. The spacious rooms +panelled in plain oak, were furnished sparely, with few things, but +those of the most beautiful and costly kind. Old Persian rugs and +carpets, a few Renaissance mirrors, a few priceless 'pots,' a picture or +two, hangings and coverings of a dim purple--the whole, made by these +various items and objects, expressed a taste perhaps originally florid, +but tamed by long and fastidious practice of the arts of decoration. + +In the study where tea had been laid, Nelly could not restrain her +wonder and delight. On one wall hung ten of the most miraculous +Turners--drawings from his best period, each of them irreplaceably +famous. Another wall showed a group of Boningtons--a third a similar +gathering of Whistlers. Sir William, charmed with the bride's pleasure, +took down drawing after drawing, carried them to the light for her, and +discoursed upon them. + +'Would you like that to copy?'--he said, putting a Turner into her +lap--a marvel of blue mountain peaks, and winding river, and aerial +distance. + +'Oh, I shouldn't dare--I should be afraid!' said Nelly, hardly liking to +take the treasure in her own hands. 'Aren't they--aren't they worth +immense sums?' + +Sir William laughed. + +'Well, of course, they're valuable--everybody wants them. But if you +would ever like that one to copy, you shall have it, and any other that +would help you. I know you wouldn't let it be hurt, if you could help +it--because you'd love it--as I do. You wouldn't let a Turner drawing +like that fade and blister in the sun--as I've seen happen again and +again in houses he painted them for. Brutes! Hanging's too good for +people who maltreat Turners. Let me relieve you of it now. I must get +you some tea. But the drawing will come to you next week. You won't be +able to think of it till then.' + +He looked at her with the ardent sympathy which sprang easily from his +quick, emotional temperament, and made it possible for him to force his +way rapidly into intimacy, where he desired to be intimate. But Nelly +shrank into herself. She put the drawing away, and did not seem to care +to look at any more. Farrell wished he had left his remark unspoken, and +finding that he had somehow extinguished her smiles and her talk, he +relieved her of his company, and went away to talk to Sarratt and +Captain Marsworth. As soon as tea was over, Nelly beckoned to her +husband. + +'Are you going so soon?' said Hester Martin, who had been unobtrusively +mothering her, since Farrell left her--'When may I come and see you?' + +'To-morrow?' said Nelly vaguely, looking up. 'George hoped you would +come, before he goes. There are--there are only three days.' + +'I will come to-morrow,' said Miss Martin, touching Nelly's hand softly. +The cold, small fingers moved, as though instinctively, towards her, and +took refuge in her warm capacious hand. Then Nelly whispered to +Bridget--appealingly-- + +'I want to go, Bridget.' + +Bridget frowned with annoyance. Why should Nelly want to go so soon? The +beauty and luxury of the cottage--the mere tea-table with all its +perfect appointments of fine silver and china, the multitude of cakes, +the hot-house fruit, the well-trained butler--all the signs of wealth +that to Nelly were rather intimidating, and to Sarratt--in +war-time--incongruous and repellent, were to Bridget the satisfaction of +so many starved desires. This ease and lavishness; the best of +everything and no trouble to get it; the 'cottage' as perfect as the +palace;--it was so, she felt, that life should be lived, to be really +worth living. She envied the Farrells with an intensity of envy. Why +should some people have so much and others so little? And as she watched +Sir William's attentions to Nelly, she said to herself, for the +hundredth time, that but for Nelly's folly, she could easily have +captured wealth like this. Why not Sir William himself? It would not +have been at all unlikely that they should come across him on one of +their Westmorland holidays. The thought of their dingy Manchester rooms, +of the ceaseless care and economy that would be necessary for their +joint ménage when Sarratt was gone, filled her with disgust. Their +poverty was wholly unnecessary--it was Nelly's silly fault. She felt at +times as though she hated her brother-in-law, who had so selfishly +crossed their path, and ruined the hopes and dreams which had been +strengthening steadily in her mind during the last two years +especially, since Nelly's beauty had become more pronounced. + +'It's not at all late!' she said, angrily, in her sister's ear. + +'Oh, but George wants to take me to Easedale,' said Nelly under her +breath. 'It will be our last long walk.' + +Bridget had to submit to be torn away. A little motor was waiting +outside. It had brought the Sarratts and Bridget from Rydal, and was to +take Bridget home, dropping the Sarratts at Grasmere for an evening +walk. Sir William tried indeed to persuade them to stay longer, till a +signal from his cousin Hester stopped him; 'Well, if you must go, you +must,' he said, regretfully. 'Cicely, you must arrange with Mrs. +Sarratt, when she will pay us a visit--and'--he looked uncertainly round +him, as though he had only just remembered Bridget's existence--'of +course your sister must come too.' + +Cicely came forward, and with a little lisp, repeated her brother's +invitation--rather perfunctorily. + +Sir William took his guests to their car, and bade a cordial farewell to +Sarratt. + +'Good-bye--and good luck. What shall I wish you? The D.S.O., and a +respectable leave before the summer's over? You will be in for great +things.' + +Sarratt shook his head. + +'Not till we get more guns, and tons more shell!' + +'Oh, the country's waking up!' + +'It's about time!' said Sarratt, gravely, as he climbed into the car. +Sir William bent towards him. + +'Anything that we can do to help your wife and her sister, during their +stay here, you may be sure we shall do.' + +'It's very kind of you,' said the young officer gratefully, as he +grasped Farrell's hand. And Nelly sent a shy glance of thanks towards +the speaker, while Bridget sat erect and impassive. + +Sir William watched them disappear, and then returned to the tea-room. +He was received with a burst of laughter from his sister. + +'Well, Willy, so you're caught--fairly caught! What am I to do? When am +I to ask her? And the sister too?' + +And lighting another cigarette, Cicely looked at her brother with +mocking eyes. + +Farrell reddened a little, but kept his temper. + +'In a week or two I should think, you might ask her, when she's got over +her husband's going away.' + +'They get over it very soon--in general,' said Cicely coolly. + +'Not that sort.' + +The voice was Captain Marsworth's. + +Cicely appeared to take no notice. But her eyelids flickered. Hester +Martin interposed. + +'A dear, little, appealing thing,' she said, warmly--'and her husband +evidently a capital fellow. I didn't take to the sister--but who knows? +She may be an excellent creature, all the same. I'm glad I shall be so +near them. It will be a help to that poor child to find her something to +do.' + +Cicely laughed. + +'You think she'll hunt sphagnum--and make bandages? I don't.' + +'Why this "thusness?"' said Miss Martin raising her eyebrows. 'What has +made you take a dislike to the poor little soul, Cicely? There never was +anyone more plainly in love--' + +'Or more to be pitied,' said the low voice in the background--low but +emphatic. + +It was now Cicely's turn to flush. + +'Of course I know I'm a beast,' she said defiantly,--'but the fact is I +didn't like either of them!--the sisters, I mean.' + +'What oh earth is there to dislike in Mrs. Sarratt!' cried Farrell. +'You're quite mad, Cicely.' + +'She's too pretty,' said Miss Farrell obstinately--and too--too simple. +And nobody as pretty as that can be really simple. It's only pretence.' + +As she spoke Cicely rose to her feet, and began to put on her veil in +front of one of the old mirrors. 'But of course, Will, I shall behave +nicely to your friends. Don't I always behave nicely to them?' + +She turned lightly to her brother, who looked at her only half appeased. + +'I shan't give you a testimonial to-day, Cicely.' + +'Then I must do without it. Well, this day three weeks, a party at +Carton, for Mrs. Sarratt. Will that give her time to settle down?' + +'Unless her husband is killed by then,' said Captain Marsworth, quietly. +'His regiment is close to Loos. He'll be in the thick of it directly.' + +'Oh no,' said Cicely, twisting the ends of her veil lightly between a +finger and thumb. 'Just a "cushy" wound, that'll bring him home on a +three months' leave, and give her the bore of nursing him.' + +'Cicely, you are a hard-hearted wretch!' said her brother, angrily. 'I +think Marsworth and I will go and stroll till the motor is ready.' + +The two men disappeared, and Cicely let herself drop into an arm-chair. +Her eyes, as far as could be seen through her veil, were blazing; the +redness in her cheeks had improved upon the rouge with which they were +already touched; and the gesture with which she pulled on her gloves was +one of excitement. + +'Cicely dear--what is the matter with you?' said Miss Martin in +distress. She was fond of Cicely, in spite of that young lady's +extravagances of dress and manner, and she divined something gone wrong. + +'Nothing is the matter--nothing at all. It is only necessary, sometimes, +to shock people,' said Cicely, calming down. She threw her head back +against the chair and closed her eyes, while her lips still smiled +triumphantly. + +'Were you trying to shock Captain Marsworth?' + +'It's so easy--it's hardly worth doing,' said Cicely, sleepily. Then +after a pause--'Ah, isn't that the motor?' + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile the little hired motor from Ambleside had dropped the Sarratts +on the Easedale road, and carried Bridget away in an opposite direction, +to the silent but great relief of the newly-married pair. And soon the +husband and wife had passed the last farm in the valley, and were +walking up a rough climbing path towards Sour Milk Ghyll, and Easedale +Tarn. The stream was full, and its many channels ran white and foaming +down the steep rock face, where it makes its chief leap to the valley. +The summer weather held, and every tree and fell-side stood bathed in a +warm haze, suffused with the declining light. All round, encircling +fells in a purple shadow; to the north and east, great slopes +appearing--Helvellyn, Grisedale, Fairfield. They walked hand in hand +where the path admitted--almost silent--passionately conscious of each +other--and of the beauty round them. Sometimes they stopped to gather a +flower, or notice a bird; and then there would be a few words, with a +meaning only for themselves. And when they reached the tarn,--a magical +shadowed mirror of brown and purple water,--they sat for long beside it, +while the evening faded, and a breathless quiet came across the hills, +stilling all their voices, even, one might have fancied, the voice of +the hurrying stream itself. At the back of Nelly's mind there was always +the same inexorable counting of the hours; and in his a profound and +sometimes remorseful pity for this gentle creature who had given herself +to him, together with an immense gratitude. + +The stars came out, and a light easterly wind sprang up, sending ripples +across the tarn, and stirring last year's leaves among the new grass. It +had grown chilly, and Sarratt took Nelly's blue cloak from his arm and +wrapped her in it--then in his arms, as she rested against him. +Presently he felt her hand drop languidly from his, and he knew +that--not the walk, but the rush of those half-spoken thoughts which +held them both, had brought exhaustion. + +'Darling--we must go home!' He bent over her. + +She rose feebly. + +'Why am I so tired? It's absurd.' + +'Let me carry you a little.' + +'You couldn't!' She smiled at him. + +But he lifted her with ease--she was so small and slight, while in him a +fresh wave of youth and strength had risen, with happiness, and the +reaction of convalescence. She made no resistance, and he carried her +down some way, through the broad mingled light. Her face was hidden on +his breast, and felt the beating of his life. She said to herself more +than once that to die so would be bliss. The marvel of love bewildered +her. 'What was I like before it?--what shall I be, when he is gone?' + +When she made him set her down, she said gaily that she was all right, +and gave him a kiss of thanks, simply, like a child. The valley lay +before them with its scattered lights, and they pressed on through the +twilight--two dim and spectral figures--spirits it seemed, who had been +on the heights sharing ambrosial feasts with the Immortals, and had but +just descended to the common earth again. + + * * * * * + +Nelly spent the next three days, outside their walks and boatings on the +lake, in whatever wifely offices to her man still remained to +her--marking his new socks and khaki shirts, furnishing a small medicine +chest, and packing a tin of special delicacies, meat lozenges, +chocolate, various much advertised food tabloids, and his favourite +biscuits. Sarratt laughed over them, but had not the heart to dissuade +her. She grew paler every day, but was always gay and smiling so long as +his eyes were on her; and his sound young sleep knew nothing of her +quiet stifled weeping at those moments of the night, when the bodily and +nervous forces are at their lowest, and all the future blackens. Miss +Martin paid them several visits, bringing them books and flowers. Books +and flowers too arrived from Carton--with a lavish supply of cigarettes +for the departing soldier. Nelly had the piteous sense that everyone was +sorry for her--Mrs. Weston, the kind landlady, Milly, the little +housemaid. It seemed to her sometimes that the mere strangers she met in +the road knew that George was going, and looked at her compassionately. + +The last day came, showery in the morning, and clearing to a glorious +evening, with all the new leaf and growing hayfields freshened by rain, +and all the streams brimming. Bridget came over in the afternoon, and as +she watched her sister's face, became almost kind, almost sympathetic. +George proposed to walk back part of the way to Ambleside with his +sister-in-law, and Nelly with a little frown of alarm watched them go. + +But the tête-à-tête was not disagreeable to either. Bridget was taken +aback, to begin with, by some very liberal proposals of Sarratt's on the +subject of her and Nelly's joint expenses during his absence. She was to +be Nelly's guest--they both wished it--and he said kindly that he +quite understood Nelly's marriage had made a difference to her, and he +hoped she would let them make it up to her, as far and as soon as they +could. Bridget was surprised into amiability,--and Sarratt found a +chance of saying-- + +'And you'll let Nelly talk about the war--though it does bore you? She +won't be able to help it--poor child!' + +Bridget supposed that now she too would have to talk about the war. He +needn't be afraid, she added drily. She would look after Nelly. And she +looked so masterful and vigorous as she said it, that Sarratt could only +believe her. + +They shook hands in the road, better friends to all seeming than they +had been yet. And Nelly received George's account of the conversation +with a sigh of relief. + + * * * * * + +That night the midsummer moon would be at the full, and as the clouds +vanished from the sky, and the soft purple night came down, Nelly and +Sarratt leaving every piece of luggage behind them, packed, labelled, +locked, and piled in the hall, ready for the cart that was to call for +it in the early hours--took their way to the lake and the boathouse. +They had been out at night once before, but this was to be the crowning +last thing--the last joint memory. + +It was eleven o'clock before the oars dipped into the water, and as they +neared the larger island, the moon, rearing its bright head over the +eastern fells, shot a silver pathway through the lake; and on either +side of the pathway, the mirrored woods and crags, more dim and ghostly +than by day, seemed to lead downward to that very threshold and entrance +of the underworld, through which the blinded Theban king vanished from +the eyes of men. Silver-bright the woods and fell-side, on the west; +while on the east the woods in shadow, lay sleeping, 'moon-charmed.' The +air was balmy; and one seemed to hear through it the steady soft beat of +the summer life, rising through the leaves and grass and flowers. Every +sound was enchantment--the drip of water from the oars, the hooting of +an owl on the island, even the occasional distant voices, and tapping of +horses' feet on the main road bordering the lake. + +Sarratt let the oars drift, and the boat glided, as though of its own +will, past the island, and into the shadow beyond it. Now it was Silver +How, and all the Grasmere mountains, that caught the 'hallowing' light. + +Nelly sat bare-headed, her elbows on her knees, and her face propped in +her hands. She was in white, with a white shawl round her, and the grace +of the slight form and dark head stirred anew in Sarratt that astonished +and exquisite sense of possession which had been one of the main +elements of consciousness, during their honeymoon. Of late indeed it had +been increasingly met and wrestled with by something harsher and +sterner; by the instinct of the soldier, of the fighting man, foreseeing +a danger to his own will, a weakening of the fibre on which his effort +and his power depend. There were moments when passionately as he loved +her, he was glad to be going; secretly glad that the days which were in +truth a greater test of endurance than the trenches were coming to an +end. He must be able to trust himself and his own nerve to the utmost. +Away from her, love would be only a strengthening power; here beside +her, soul and sense contended. + +A low voice came out of the shadow. + +'George--I'm not going with you to the station.' + +'Best not, dearest--much best.' + +A silence. Then the voice spoke again. + +'How long will it take you, George, getting to the front?' + +'About twenty-four hours from the base, perhaps more. It's a weary +business.' + +'Will you be in action at once?' + +'I think so. That part of the line's very short of men.' + +'When shall I hear?' + +He laughed. + +'By every possible post, I should think, darling. You've given me +post-cards enough.' + +And he tapped his breast-pocket, where lay the little writing-case she +had furnished for every imaginable need. + +'George!' + +'Yes, darling.' + +'When you're tired, you're--you're not to write.' + +He put out his long arms, and took her hands in his. + +'I shan't be tired--and I shall write.' + +She looked down upon the hands holding hers. In each of the little +fingers there was a small amusing deformity--a slight crook or +twist--which, as is the way of lovers, was especially dear to her. She +remembered once, before they were engaged, flaming out at Bridget, who +had made mock of it. She stooped now, and kissed the fingers. Then she +bowed her forehead upon them. + +'George!'--he could only just hear her--'I know Miss Martin will be +kind to me--and I shall find plenty to do. You're never to worry about +me.' + +'I won't--so long as you write to me--every day.' + +There was again a silence. Then she lifted her head, and as the boat +swung out of the shadow, the moonlight caught her face. + +'You'll take that Wordsworth I gave you, won't you, George? It'll remind +you--of this.' Her gesture showed the lake and the mountains. + +'Of course, I shall take it. I shall read it whenever I can--perhaps +more for your sake--than Wordsworth's.' + +'It'll make us remember the same things,' she murmured. + +'As if we wanted anything to make us remember!' + +'George!' her voice was almost a sob--'It's been almost too perfect. +Sometimes--just for that--I'm afraid.' + +'Don't be, darling. The God we believe in _isn't_ a jealous God! That's +one of the notions one grows out of--over there.' + +'Do you think He's our friend, George--that He really cares?' + +The sweet appealing voice touched him unbearably. + +'Yes, I do think it--' he said, firmly, after a pause. 'I do believe +it--with all my heart.' + +'Then I'll believe it!' she said, with a long breath; and there was +silence again, till suddenly over the water came the sound of the Rydal +Chapel bell, striking midnight. Nelly withdrew her hands and sat up. + +'George, we must go home. You must have a good night.' + +He obeyed her, took up the oars, and pulled swiftly to the boathouse. +She sat in a kind of dream. It was all over, the heavenly time--all +done. She had had the very best of life--could it ever come again? In +her pain and her longing she was strangely conscious of growth and +change. The Nelly of three weeks back seemed to have nothing to do with +her present self, to be another human being altogether. + +He made her go to bed, and remained in the sitting-room himself, under +pretence of some papers he must put in order. When the sounds in the +next room ceased, and he knew that she must be lying still, waiting for +him, he sat down, took pen and paper, and began to write to her--a +letter to be given to her if he fell. He had already written a letter of +business directions, which was at his lawyer's. This was of another +kind. + +'My Darling,--this will be very short. It is only to tell you that if I +fall--if we never meet again, after to-morrow, you are to think first of +all--and always--that you have made a man so happy that if no more joy +can come to him on earth, he could die now--as far as he himself is +concerned--blessing God for his life. I never imagined that love could +be so perfect. You have taught me. God reward you--God watch over you. +If I die, you will be very sad--that will be the bitterness to me, if I +have time to know it. But this is my last prayer to you--to be comforted +by this remembrance--of what you have done for me--what you have been to +me. And in time, my precious one, comfort will come. There may be a +child--if so, you will love it for us both. But if not, you must still +take comfort. You must be willing, for my sake, to be comforted. And +remember:--don't be angry with me, darling--if in years to come, another +true love, and another home should be offered you, don't refuse +them--Nelly! You were born to be loved. And if my spirit lives, and +understands; what could it feel but joy that your sorrow was healed--my +best beloved! + +'This will be given to you only if I die. With the deepest gratitude and +the tenderest love that a man can feel, I bid you good-bye--my precious +wife--good-bye!' + +He put it up with a steady hand, and addressed it first to Nelly, +enclosing it in a larger envelope addressed to his oldest friend, a +school-fellow, who had been his best man at their marriage. Then he +stole downstairs, unlocked the front door, and crossing the road in the +moonlight, he put the letter into the wall post-box on the further side. +And before re-entering the house, he stood a minute or two in the road, +letting the fresh wind from the fells beat upon his face, and trying +the while to stamp on memory the little white house where Nelly lay, the +trees overhanging it, the mountain tops beyond the garden wall. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +'Is Mrs. Sarratt in?' asked Miss Martin of Mrs. Weston's little maid, +Milly. + +Milly wore a look of animation, as of one who has been finding the world +interesting. + +'She's gone a walk--over the bridge, Miss.' + +'Has she had news of Mr. Sarratt?' + +'Yes, Miss,' said the girl eagerly. 'He's all right. Mrs. Sarratt got a +telegram just a couple of hours ago.' + +'And you think I shall find her by the lake?' + +Milly thought so. Then advancing a step, she said confidentially-- + +'She's been dreadfully upset this two days, Miss. Not that she'd say +anything. But she's looked------' + +'I know. I saw her yesterday.' + +'And it's been a job to get her to eat anything. Mrs. Weston's been +after her with lots of things--tasty you know, Miss--to try and tempt +her. But she wouldn't hardly look at them.' + +'Thank you, Milly'--said Miss Martin, after a pause. 'Well, I'll find +her. Is Miss Cookson here?' + +Milly's candid countenance changed at once. She frowned--it might have +been said she scowled. + +'She came the day Mr. Sarratt went away, Miss. Well of course it's not +my place to speak, Miss--but _she_ don't do Mrs. Sarratt no good!' Miss +Martin couldn't help a smile--but she shook her head reprovingly all the +same, as she hastened away. Milly had been in her Sunday-school class, +and they were excellent friends. + +Across the Rotha, she pursued a little footpath leading to the lakeside. +It was a cold day, with flying clouds and gleams on hill and water. The +bosom of Silver How held depths of purple shadow, but there were lights +like elves at play, chasing each other along the Easedale fells, and the +stony side of Nab Scar. + +Beside the water, on a rock, sat Nelly Sarratt. An open telegram and a +bundle of letters lay on her lap, her hands loosely folded over them. +She was staring at the water and the hills, with absent eyes, and her +small face wore an expression--relaxed and sweet--like that of a +comforted child, which touched Miss Martin profoundly. + +'So you've heard?--you poor thing!' said the elder woman smiling, as she +laid a friendly hand on the girl's shoulder. + +Nelly looked up--and drew a long deep breath. + +'He's all right, and the battalion's going to have three weeks' +rest--behind the lines.' + +Her dark eyes shone. Hester Martin sat down on the turf beside her. + +'Capital! When did you hear last?' + +'Just the day before the "push." Of course he couldn't tell me +anything--but somehow I knew. And then the papers since--they're pretty +ghastly,' said Nelly, with a faint laugh and a shiver. 'The farm under +the hill there'--she pointed--'you know about them?' + +'Yes. I saw them after the telegram,' said Miss Martin, sadly. 'Of +course it was the only son. These small families are too awful. Every +married woman ought to have six sons!' + +Nelly dropped her face out of sight, shading it with her hands. +Presently she said, in a dreamy voice of content-- + +'I shall get a letter to-morrow.' + +'How do you know?' + +Nelly held out the telegram, which said-- + +'All safe. Posted letter last night. Love.' + +'It _can't_ take more than forty-eight hours to come--can it?' Then she +lifted her eyes again to the distant farm, with its white front and its +dark patch of yews. + +'I keep thinking of _their_ telegram--' she said, slowly--'and then of +mine. Oh, this war is too _horrible!'_ She threw up her hands with a +sudden wild gesture, and then let one of them drop into Hester Martin's +grasp. 'In George's last letter he told me he had to go with a message +across a bit of ground that was being shelled. He went with a +telephonist. He crossed first. The other man was to wait and follow him +after an interval. George got across, then the man with the telephone +wire started, and was shot--just as he reached George. He fell into +George's arms--and died. And it might have been George--it might have +been George just as well! It might be George any day!' + +Miss Martin looked at her in perplexity. She had no ready-made +consolations--she never had. Perhaps it was that which made her kind +wrinkled face such a welcome sight to those in trouble. But at last she +said--'It is all we women can do--to be patient--and hope--not to let +our courage go down.' + +Nelly shook her head. + +'I am always saying that to myself--but! when the news comes--_if_ it +comes--what good will that be to me! Oh, I haven't been idle--indeed I +haven't,' she added piteously--'I've worked myself tired every day--just +not to think!' + +'I know you have,' Miss Martin pressed the hand in hers. 'Well, now, +he'll be all safe for a fortnight------' + +'Perhaps three weeks,' Nelly corrected her, eagerly. Then she looked +round at her new friend, a shy smile lighting up her face, and +bringing back its bloom. + +'You know he writes to me nearly every day?' + +'It's the way people have--war or no war--when they're in love,' said +Hester Martin drily. 'And you--how often?' + +'_Every_ day. I haven't missed once. How could I?--when he wants me to +write--when I hear so often!' And her free hand closed possessively, +greedily, over the letters in her lap. + +Hester Martin surveyed her thoughtfully. + +'I wouldn't do war-work all day, if I were you,' she said at last. 'Why +don't you go on with your sketching?' + +'I was going to try this very afternoon. Sir William said he would give +me a lesson,' was the listless reply. + +'He's coming here?' + +'He said he would be walking this way, if it was fine,' said Nelly, +indifferently. + +Both relapsed into silence. Then Miss Martin enquired after Bridget. The +face beside her darkened a little. + +'She's very well. She knows about the telegram. She thought I was a +great goose to be so anxious. She's making an index now--for the book!' + +'The psychology book?' + +'Yes!' A pause--then Nelly looked round, flushing. + +'I can't talk to Bridget you see--about George--or the war. She just +thinks the world's mad--that it's six to one and half a dozen to the +other--that it doesn't matter at all who wins--so long of course as the +Germans don't come here. And as for me, if I was so foolish as to marry +a soldier in the middle of the war, why I must just take the +consequences--grin and bear it!' + +Her tone and look showed that in her clinging way she had begun to +claim the woman beside her as a special friend, while Hester Martin's +manner towards her bore witness that the claim excited a warm +response--that intimacy and affection had advanced rapidly since George +Sarratt's departure. + +'Why do you put up with it?' said Miss Martin, sharply. 'Couldn't you +get some cousin--some friend to stay with you?' + +Nelly shook her head. 'George wanted me to. But I told him I couldn't. +It would mean a quarrel. I could never quarrel with Bridget.' + +Miss Martin laughed indignantly. 'Why not--if she makes you miserable?' + +'I don't know. I suppose I'm afraid of her. And besides'--the words +came reluctantly--: 'she does a lot for me. I _ought_ to be very +grateful!' + +Yes, Hester Martin did know that, in a sense, Bridget did 'a lot' for +her younger sisters. It was not many weeks since she had made their +acquaintance, but there had been time for her to see how curiously +dependent young Mrs. Sarratt was on Miss Cookson. There was no real +sympathy between them; nor could Miss Martin believe that there was ever +much sense of kinship. But whenever there was anything to be done +involving any friction with the outside world, Bridget was ready to do +it, while Nelly invariably shrank from it. + +For instance, some rather troublesome legal business connected with +Nelly's marriage, and the reinvestment of a small sum of money, had +descended on the young wife almost immediately after George's +departure. She could hardly bring herself to look at the letter. What +did it matter? Let their trustee settle it. To be worrying about it +seemed to be somehow taking her mind from George--to be breaking in on +that imaginative vision of him, and his life in the trenches, which +while it tortured her, yet filled the blank of his absence. So Bridget +did it all--corresponded peremptorily with their rather old and +incompetent trustee, got all the signatures necessary out of Nelly, and +carried the thing through. Again, on another and smaller occasion, Miss +Martin had seen the two sisters confronted with a scandalous overcharge +for the carriage of some heavy luggage from Manchester. Nelly was +aghast; but she would have paid the sum demanded like a lamb, if Bridget +had not stepped in--grappled with carter and railway company, while +Nelly looked on, helpless but relieved. + +It was clear that Nelly's inborn wish to be liked, her quivering +responsiveness, together with a strong dose of natural indolence, made +her hate disagreement or friction of any kind. She was always +yielding--always ready to give in. But when Bridget in her harsh +aggravating way fought things out and won, Nelly was indeed often made +miserable, by the _ricochet_ of the wrath roused by Bridget's methods +upon herself; but she generally ended, all the same, by realising that +Bridget had done her a service which she could not have done for +herself. + +Hester Martin frankly thought the sister odious, and pitied the bride +for having to live with her. All the same she often found herself +wondering how Nelly would ever manage the practical business of life +alone, supposing loneliness fell to her at any time. But why should it +fall to her?--unless indeed Sarratt were killed in action. If he +survived the war he would make her the best of guides and husbands; she +would have children; and her sweetness, her sensitiveness would stiffen +under the impact of life to a serviceable toughness. But meanwhile what +could she do--poor little Ariadne!--but 'live and be lovely'--sew and +knit, and gather sphagnum moss--dreaming half her time, and no doubt +crying half the night. What dark circles already round the beautiful +eyes! And how transparent were the girl's delicate hands! Miss Martin +felt that she was watching a creature on whom love had been acting with +a concentrated and stimulating energy, bringing the whole being suddenly +and rapidly into flower. And now, what had been only stimulus and warmth +had become strain, and, sometimes, anguish, or fear. The poor drooping +plant could with difficulty maintain itself. + +For the moment however, Nelly, in her vast relief, was ready to talk and +think of quite ordinary matters. + +'Bridget is in a good temper with me to-day!' she said presently, +looking with a smile at her companion--'because--since the telegram +came--I told her I would accept Miss Farrell's invitation to go and +spend a Sunday with them.' + +'Well, it might distract you. But you needn't expect to get much out of +Cicely!' + +The old face lit up with its tolerant, half-sarcastic smile. + +'I shall be dreadfully afraid of her!' said Nelly. + +'No need to be. William will keep her in order. She is a foolish woman, +Cicely, and her own worst enemy, but--somehow'--The speaker paused. She +was about to say--'somehow I am fond of her'--when she suddenly wondered +whether the remark would be true, and stopped herself. + +'I think she's very--very good-looking'--said Nelly, heartily. 'Only, +why'--she hesitated, but her half-laughing look continued the sentence. + +'Why does she blacken her eyebrows, and paint her lips, and powder her +cheeks? Is that what you mean?' + +Nelly's look was apologetic. 'She doesn't really want it, does she?' she +said shyly, as though remembering that she was speaking to a kinswoman +of the person discussed. 'She could do so well without it.' + +'No--to be quite candid, I don't think she _would_ look so well without +it. That's the worst of it. It seems to suit her to be made up!--though +everybody knows it _is_ make-up.' + +'Of course, if George wanted me to "make up," I should do it at once,' +said Nelly, thoughtfully, propping her chin on her hands, and staring at +the lake. 'But he hates it. Is--is Miss Farrell--' she looked +round--'in love with anybody?' + +Miss Martin laughed. + +'I'll leave you to find out--when you go there. So if your husband liked +you to paint and powder, you would do it?' + +The older woman looked curiously at her companion. As she sat there, on +a rock above the lake, in a grey nurse's dress with a nurse's bonnet +tied under her chin, Hester Martin conveyed an impression of rugged and +unconscious strength which seemed to fuse her with the crag behind her. +She had been gathering sphagnum moss on the fells almost from sunrise +that morning; and by tea-time she was expecting a dozen munition-workers +from Barrow, whom she was to house, feed and 'do for,' in her little +cottage over the week-end. In the interval, she had climbed the steep +path to that white farm where death had just entered, and having mourned +with them that mourn, she had come now, as naturally, to rejoice with +Nelly Sarratt. + +Nelly considered her question, but not in any doubtfulness of mind. + +'Indeed, I would,' she said, decidedly. 'Isn't it my duty to make George +happy?' + +'What "George"? If Mr. Sarratt wanted you to paint and powder----' + +'He wouldn't be the "George" I married? There's something in that!' +laughed Nelly. Then she lifted her hand to shade her eyes against the +westering sun--'Isn't that Sir William coming?' + +She pointed doubtfully to a distant figure walking along the path that +skirts the western edge of the lake. Miss Martin put up her glasses. + +'Certainly. Coming no doubt to give you a lesson. But where are your +sketching things?' + +Nelly rose in a hurry. + +'I forgot about them when I came out. The telegram--' She pressed her +hands to her eyes, with a long breath. + +'I'll run back for them. Will you tell him?' + +She departed, and Hester awaited her cousin. He came slowly along the +lake, his slight lameness just visible in his gait--otherwise a splendid +figure of a man, with a bare head, bearded and curled, like a Viking in +a drawing by William Morris. He carried various artist's gear slung +about him, and an alpenstock. His thoughts were apparently busy, for he +came within a few yards of Hester Martin, before he saw her. + +'Hullo! Hester--you here? I came to get some news of Mrs. Sarratt and +her husband. Is he all right?' + +Hester repeated the telegram, and added the information that seeing him +coming, Mrs. Sarratt had gone in search of her sketching things. + +'Ah!--I thought if she'd got good news she might like to begin,' said +Farrell. 'Poor thing--she's lucky! Our casualties these last few days +have been awful, and the gain very small. Men or guns--that's our +choice just now. And it will be months before we get the guns. So +practically, there's no choice. Somebody ought to be hung!' + +He sat down frowning. But his face soon cleared, and he began to study +the point of view. + +'Nothing to be made of it but a picture post-card,' he declared. +'However I daresay she'll want to try it. They always do--the beginners. +The more ambitious and impossible the thing, the better.' + +'Why don't you _teach_ her?' said Hester, severely. + +Farrell laughed. + +'Why I only want to amuse her, poor little soul!' he said, as he put his +easel together. 'Why should she take it seriously?' + +'She's more intelligence than you think.' + +'Has she? What a pity! There are so many intelligent people in the +world, and so few pretty ones,' + +He spoke with a flippant self-confidence that annoyed his cousin. But +she knew very well that she was poorly off in the gifts that were +required to scourge him. And there already was the light form of Nelly, +on the footbridge over the river. Farrell looked up and saw her coming. + +'Extraordinary--the grace of the little thing!' he said, half to +himself, half to Hester. 'And she knows nothing about it--or seems to.' + +'Do you imagine that her husband hasn't told her?' Hester's tone was +mocking. + +Farrell looked up in wonder. 'Sarratt? of course he has--so far as he +has eyes to see it. But he has no idea how remarkable it is.' + +'What? His wife's beauty? Nonsense!' + +'How could he? It wants a trained eye,' said Farrell, quite serious. +'Hush!--here she comes.' + +Nelly came up breathlessly, laden with her own paraphernalia. Farrell at +once perceived that she was pale and hollow-eyed. But her expression was +radiant. + +'How kind of you to come!' she said, looking up at him. 'You know I've +had good news--splendid news?' + +'I do indeed. I came to ask,' he said gravely. 'He's out of it for a +bit?' + +'Yes, for three weeks!' + +'So you can take a rest from worrying?' + +She nodded brightly, but she was not yet quite mistress of her nerves, +and her face quivered. He turned away, and began to set his palette, +while she seated herself. + +Hester watched the lesson for half an hour, till it was time to go and +make ready for her munition-workers. And she watched it with increasing +pleasure, and increasing scorn of a certain recurrent uneasiness she had +not been able to get rid of. Nothing could have been better than +Farrell's manner to Ariadne. It was friendly, chivalrous, +respectful--all it should be--with a note of protection, of unspoken +sympathy, which, coming from a man nearly twenty years older than the +little lady herself, was both natural and attractive. He made an +excellent teacher besides, handling her efforts with a mixture of +criticism and praise, which presently roused Nelly's ambition, and +kindled her cheeks and eyes. Time flew and when Hester Martin rose to +leave them, Nelly cried out in protest--'It can't be five o'clock!' + +'A quarter to--just time to get home before my girls arrive!' + +'Oh, and I must go too,' said Nelly regretfully. 'I promised Bridget I +would be in for tea. But I _was_ getting on--wasn't I?' She turned to +Farrell. + +'Swimmingly. But you've only just begun. Next time the sitting must be +longer.' + +'Will you--will you come in to tea?'--she asked him shyly. 'My sister +would be very glad.' + +'Many thanks--but I am afraid I can't. I shall be motoring back to +Carton to-night. To-morrow is one of my hospital days. I told you how I +divided my week, and salved my conscience.' + +He smiled down upon her from his great height, his reddish gold hair and +beard blown by the wind, and she seemed to realise him as a great, +manly, favouring presence, who made her feel at ease. + +Hester Martin had already vanished over the bridge, and Farrell and +Nelly strolled back more leisurely towards the lodgings, he carrying her +canvas sketching bag. + +On the way she conveyed to him her own and Bridget's acceptance of the +Carton invitation. + +'If Miss Farrell won't mind our clothes--or rather our lack of them! I +did mean to have my wedding dress altered into an evening +dress--but!----' + +She lifted her hand and let it fall, in a sad significant gesture which +pleased his fastidious eye. + +'You hadn't even the time of the heart for it? I should think not!' he +said warmly. 'Who cares about dress nowadays?' + +'Your sister!' thought Nelly--but aloud she said-- + +'Well then we'll come--we'll be delighted to come. May I see the +hospital?' + +'Of course. It's like any other hospital.' + +'Is it very full now?' she asked him uneasily, her bright look clouding. + +'Yes--but it ebbs and flows. Sometimes for a day or two all our men +depart. Then there is a great rush.' + +'Are they bad cases?' + +There was an unwilling insistence in her voice, as though her mind dealt +with images it would gladly have put away, but could not. + +'A good many of them. They send them us as straight as they can from the +front. But the surgeons are wonderfully skilful. It's simply marvelous +what they can do.' + +He seemed to see a shiver pass through her slight shoulders, and he +changed the subject at once. The Carton motor should come for her and +her sister, he said, whenever they liked, the following Saturday +afternoon. The run would take about an hour. Meanwhile-- + +'Do you want any more books or magazines?' he asked her smiling, with +the look of one only eager to be told how to serve her. They had paused +in the road outside the lodgings. + +'Oh I how could we! You sent us such a bundle!' cried Nelly gratefully. +'We are always finding something new in it. It makes the evenings so +different. We will bring them back when we come.' + +'Don't hurry. And go on with the drawing. I shall expect to see it a +great deal further on next time. It's all right so far.' + +He went his way back, speedily, taking a short cut over Loughrigg to his +cottage. His thoughts, as he climbed, were very full of Mrs. Sarratt. +But they were the thoughts of an artist--of a man who had studied +beauty, and the European tradition of beauty, whether in form or +landscape, for many years; who had worked--_à contre coeur_--in a Paris +studio, and had copied Tintoret--fervently--in Venice; who had been a +collector of most things, from Tanagra figures to Delia Robbias. She +made an impression upon him in her lightness and grace, her small +proportions, her lissomness of outline, very like that of a Tanagra +figure. How had she come to spring from Manchester? What kindred had she +with the smoke and grime of a great business city? He fell into amused +speculation. Manchester has always possessed colonies of Greek +merchants. Somewhere in the past was there some strain of southern blood +which might account for her? He remembered a beautiful Greek girl at an +Oxford Commemoration, when he had last attended that function; the +daughter of a Greek financier settled in London, whose still lovely +mother had been drawn and painted interminably by the Burne Jones and +William Morris group of artists. _She_ was on a larger scale than Mrs. +Sarratt, but the colour of the flesh was the same--as though light shone +through alabaster--and the sweetness of the deep-set eyes. Moreover she +had produced much the same effect on the bystander, as of a child of +nature, a creature of impulse and passion--passion, clinging and +self-devoted, not fierce and possessive--through all the more +superficial suggestions of reticence and self-control. 'This little +creature is only at the beginning of her life'--he thought, with a kind +of pity for her very softness and exquisiteness. 'What the deuce will +she have made of it, by the end? Why should such beings grow old?' + +His interest in her led him gradually to other thoughts--partly +disagreeable, partly philosophical. He had once--and only once--found +himself involved in a serious love-affair, which, as it had left him a +bachelor, had clearly come to no good. It was with a woman much older +than himself--gifted--more or less famous--a kind of modern Corinne whom +he had met for a month in Rome in his first youth. Corinne had laid +siege to him, and he had eagerly, whole-heartedly succumbed. He saw +himself, looking back, as the typically befooled and bamboozled mortal; +for Corinne, in the end, had thrown him over for a German professor, who +admired her books and had a villa on the Janiculum. During the eighteen +years which had elapsed since their adventure, he had quite made it up +with her, and had often called at the Janiculan villa, with its +antiques, its window to the view, and the great Judas tree between it +and Rome. His sense of escape--which grew upon him--was always tempered +by a keen respect for the lady's disinterestedness, and those high +ideals which must have led her--for what else could?--to prefer the +German professor, who had so soon become decrepit, to himself. But the +result of it all had been that the period of highest susceptibility and +effervescence had passed by, leaving him still unmarried. Since then he +had had many women-friends, following harmlessly a score of 'chance +desires'! But he had never wanted to marry anybody; and the idea of +surrendering the solitude and independence of his pleasant existence had +now become distasteful to him. Renan in some late book speaks of his +life as 'cette charmante promenade à travers la realité.' Farrell could +have adopted much the same words about his own--until the war. The war +had made him think a good deal, like Sarratt; though the thoughts of a +much travelled, epicurean man of the world were naturally very +different from those of the young soldier. At least 'the surge and +thunder' of the struggle had developed in Farrell a new sensitiveness, a +new unrest, as though youth had returned upon him. The easy, drifting +days of life before the catastrophe were gone. The 'promenade' was no +longer charming. But the jagged and broken landscape through which it +was now taking him, held him often--like so many others--breathless with +strange awes, strange questionings. And all the more, because, owing to +his physical infirmity, he must be perforce a watcher, a discontented +watcher, rather than an actor, in the great scene. + + * * * * * + +That night Nelly, sitting at her open window, with starlight on the +lake, and the cluster rose sending its heavy scent into the room--wrote +to her husband. + +'My darling--it is just a little more than eight hours since I got your +telegram. Sometimes it seems like nothing--and then like _days_--days of +happiness. I was _very_ anxious. But I know I oughtn't to write about +that. You say it helps you if I keep cheerful, and always expect the +best and not the worst. Indeed, George, I do keep cheerful. Ask Miss +Martin--ask Bridget--' + +At this point two splashes fell, luckily not on the letter, but on the +blotting paper beside it, and Nelly hastily lifted her handkerchief to +dry a pair of swimming eyes. + +'But he can't see--he won't know!' she thought, apologising to herself; +yet wrestling at the same time with the sharp temptation to tell him +exactly how she had suffered, that he might comfort her. But she +repelled it. Her moral sense told her that she ought to be sustaining +and strengthening him--rather than be hanging upon him the burden of her +own fears and agonies. + +She went on bravely-- + +'Of course, after the news in the paper this morning,--and yesterday--I +was worried till I heard. I knew--at any rate I guessed--you must have +been in it all. And now you are safe, my own own!--for three whole +blessed weeks. Oh, how well I shall sleep all that time--and how much +work I shall do! But it won't be all war-work. Sir William Farrell came +over to-day, and showed me how to begin a drawing of the lake. I shall +finish it for your birthday, darling. Of course you won't want to be +bothered with it out there. I shall keep it till you come. The lake is +so beautiful to-night, George. It is warmer again, and the stars are all +out. The mountains are so blue and quiet--the water so still. But for +the owls, everything seems asleep. But they call and call--and the echo +goes round the lake. I can just see the island, and the rocks round +which the boat drifted--that last night. How good you were to me--how I +loved to sit and look at you, with the light on your dear face--and the +oars hanging--and the shining water-- + +'And then I think of where you are--and what you have been seeing in +that awful fighting. But not for long. I try to put it away. + +'George, darling!--you know what you said when you went away--what you +hoped might come--to make us both happy--and take my thoughts off the +war? But, dear, it isn't so--you mustn't hope it. I shall be dreadfully +sorry if you are disappointed. But you'll only find _me_--your own +Nelly--not changed a bit--when you come back. + +'I want to hear everything when you write--how your men did--whether you +took any prisoners, whether there was ammunition enough, or whether you +were short again? I feel every day that I ought to go and make +munitions--but somehow--I can't. We are going to Carton on Saturday. +Bridget is extremely pleased. I rather dread it. But I shall be able to +write you a long letter about it on Sunday morning, instead of going to +church. There is Rydal chapel striking twelve! My darling--my +darling!--good-night.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The following Saturday afternoon, at three o'clock, the Carton motor +duly arrived at the Rydal cottage door. It was a hot summer day, the +mountains colourless and small under their haze of heat, the woods +darkening already towards the August monotony, the streams low and +shrunken. Lakeland was at the moment when the artists who haunt her +would rather not paint her, remembering the subtleties of spring, and +looking forward to the pageantry of autumn. But for the eye that loves +her she has beauties enough at any time, and no blanching heat and dust +can spoil the lovely or delicate things that lie waiting in the shade of +her climbing oak-woods or on her bare fells, or beside her still lakes. + +Nelly took her seat in the landaulette, with Bridget beside her. Milly +and Mrs. Weston admiringly watched their departure from the doorway of +the lodgings, and they were soon speeding towards Grasmere and Dunmail +Raise. Nelly's fresh white dress, aided by the blue coat and shady hat +which George had thought so ravishing, became her well; and she was +girlishly and happily aware of it. Her spirits were high, for there in +the little handbag on her wrist lay George's last letter, received that +morning, short and hurried, written just to catch the post, on his +arrival at the rest camp, thirty miles behind the line. Heart-ache and +fear, if every now and then their black wings brushed her, and far +within, a nerve quivered, were mostly quite forgotten. Youth, the joy of +being loved, the joy of mere living, reclaimed her. + +Bridget beside her, in a dark blue cotton, with a very fashionable hat, +looked more than her thirty years, and might almost have been taken for +Nelly's mother. She sat erect, her thin straight shoulders carrying her +powerful head and determined face; and she noticed many things that +quite escaped her sister: the luxury of the motor for instance; the +details of the Farrell livery worn by the two discharged soldiers who +sat in front as chauffeur and footman; and the evident fact that while +small folk must go without servants, the rich seemed to have no +difficulty in getting as many as they wanted. + +'I wonder what this motor cost?' she said presently in a speculative +tone, as they sped past the turn to Grasmere church and began to ascend +the pass leading to Keswick. + +'Well, we know--about--don't we?' said Nelly vaguely. And she guessed a +sum, at which Bridget looked contemptuous. + +'More than _that_, my dear! However of course it doesn't matter to +them.' + +'Don't you think people look at us sometimes, as though we were doing +something wrong?' said Nelly uneasily. They had just passed two old +labourers--fine patriarchal fellows who had paused a moment to gaze at +the motor and the two ladies. 'I suppose it's because--because we look +so smart.' + +'Well, why shouldn't we?' + +'Because it's war-time I suppose,' said Nelly slowly--'and perhaps +their sons are fighting--' + +'We're not fighting!' + +'No--but--.' With a slight frown, Nelly tried to express herself. 'It +looks as if we were just living as usual, while--Oh, you know, Bridget, +what people think!--how _everybody's_ trying not to spend money on +themselves.' + +'Are they?' Bridget laughed aloud. 'Look at all the dress advertisements +in the papers. Why, yesterday, when I was having tea with those people +at Windermere, there was a man there telling lots of interesting things. +He said he knew some great merchants in the city, who had spent +thousands and thousands on furs--expensive furs--the summer before the +war. And they thought they'd all have been left on their hands, that +they'd have lost heavily. And instead of that they sold them all, and +made a real big profit!' + +Bridget turned an almost triumphant look on her sister, as though the +_coup_ described had been her own. + +'Well, it isn't right!' said Nelly, passionately. 'It isn't--it +_isn't_--Bridget! When the war's costing so much--and people are +suffering and dying--' + +'Oh, I know!' said Bridget hastily. 'You needn't preach to me my dear +child. I only wanted you to look at _facts_. You're always so incurably +sentimental!' + +'I'm not!' Nelly protested, helplessly. 'We _make_ the facts. If nobody +bought the furs, the facts would be different. George says it's wicked +to squander money, and live as if everything were just the same as it +used to be. And I agree with him!' + +'Of course you do!' laughed Bridget. '_You_ don't squander money, my +dear!' + +'Only because I haven't got it to spend, you mean?' said Nelly, +flushing. + +'No--but you should look at things sensibly. The people who are making +money are spending it--oceans of it! And the people who have money, like +the Farrells, are spending it too. Wait till you see how they live!' + +'But there's the hospital!' cried Nelly. + +Bridget shrugged her shoulders. + +'That's because they can afford to give the hospital, and have the +motor-cars too. If they had to choose between hospitals and motor-cars!' + +'Lots of people do!' + +'You think Sir William Farrell looks like doing without things?' said +Bridget, provokingly. Then she checked herself. 'Of course I like Sir +William very much. But then _I_ don't see why he shouldn't have +motor-cars or any other nice thing he wants.' + +'That's because--you don't think enough--you never think enough--about +the war!' said Nelly, insistently. + +Bridget's look darkened. + +'I would stop the war to-morrow--I would make peace to-morrow--if I +could--you know I would. It will destroy us all--ruin us all. It's +sheer, stark lunacy. There, you know what I think!' + +'I don't see what it's ever cost you, Bridget!' said Nelly, breathing +fast. + +'Oh, well, it's very easy to say that--but it isn't argument.' + +Bridget's deep-set penetrating eyes glittered as she turned them on her +sister. 'However, for goodness' sake, don't let's quarrel about it. It's +a lovely day, and we don't often have a motor like this to drive in!' + +The speaker leant back, giving herself up to the sensuous pleasure of +the perfectly hung car, and the rapid movement through the summer air. +Wythburn and Thirlmere were soon passed; leaving them just time to +notice the wrack and ruin which Manchester has made of the once lovely +shore of Thirlmere, where hideous stretches of brown mud, and the ruins +of long submerged walls and dwellings, reappear with every dry summer to +fling reproach in the face of the destroyer. + +Now they were on the high ground above Keswick; and to the west and +north rose a superb confusion of mountain-forms, peaked and rounded and +cragged, with water shining among them, and the silver cloud wreaths +looped and threaded through the valleys, leaving the blue or purple +tops suspended, high in air, unearthly and alone, to parley with the +setting sun. Not yet setting indeed--but already flooding the west with +a glory in which the further peaks had disappeared--burnt away; a +shining holocaust to the Gods of Light and Fire. + +Then a sharp descent, a run through Keswick, another and a tamer lake, a +sinking of the mountain-forms, and they were nearing the woods of +Carton. Both sisters had been silent for some time. Nelly was wrapt in +thoughts of George. Would he get leave before Christmas? Suppose he were +wounded slightly--just a wound that would send him home, and let her +nurse him?--a wound from which he would be sure to get well--not too +quickly! She could not make up her mind to wish it--to pray for it--it +seemed like tempting Providence. But how she had envied a young couple +whom she sometimes met walking on the Ambleside road!--a young private +of one of the Border regiments, with a bandaged arm, and his sweetheart. +Once--with that new free-masonry which the war has brought about, she +had stopped to speak to them. The boy had been quite ready to talk about +his wound. It had seemed nothing at first--just a fragment of +shrapnel--he had scarcely known he was hit. But abscess after abscess +had formed--a leading nerve had been injured--it might be months before +he could use it again. And meanwhile the plain but bright-faced girl +beside him was watching over him; he lodged with her parents as his own +were dead; and they were to be married soon. No chance of his going out +again! The girl's father would give him work in his garage. They had the +air of persons escaped from shipwreck and ashamed almost of their own +secret happiness, while others were still battling with and sinking in +the waves. + + * * * * * + +A flowery lodge, a long drive through green stretches of park, with a +heather fell for background--and then the motor, leaving to one side a +huge domed pile with the Union Jack floating above it, ran through a +wood, and drew up in front of Carton Cottage, a low building on the +steps of which stood Sir William Farrell. + +'Delighted to see you! Come in, and let Cicely give you some tea. +They'll see to your luggage!' + +He led in Nelly, and Bridget followed, glancing from side to side, with +an eye shrewdly eager, an eye that took in and appraised all it saw. A +cottage indeed! It had been built by Sir William's father, for his only +sister, a maiden lady, to whom he was much attached. 'Aunt Sophy' had +insisted on a house to herself, being a person of some ruggedness and +eccentricity of character and averse to any sort of dependence on other +people's ways and habits. But she had allowed her brother to build and +furnish the cottage for her as lavishly as he pleased, and during his +long widowhood she had been of much help to him in the management of +the huge household at Carton Hall, and in the bringing up of his two +children. After her death, the house had remained empty for some time, +till, six months after the outbreak of war, Farrell had handed over the +Hall to the War Office, and he and his sister had migrated to the +smaller house. + +Bridget was aware, as she followed her sister, of rooms small but +numerous opening out on many sides, of long corridors with glistening +teak floors, of windows open to a garden ablaze with roses. Sir William +led them to what seemed a buzz of voices, and opened a door. + +Cicely Farrell rose languidly from a table surrounded by laughing young +men, and advanced to meet the newcomers. Nelly found herself shaking +hands with the Captain Marsworth she had seen at Loughrigg Tarn, and +being introduced by Sir William to various young officers, some in +khaki, visitants from a neighbouring camp, and some from the Hall, in +various forms of convalescent undress, grey flannel suits, khaki tunics +with flannel 'slacks,' or full khaki, as the wearers pleased. The little +lady in white had drawn all the male eyes upon her as she came in, and +those who rapidly resumed their talk with Miss Farrell or each other, +interrupted by the entrance of the newcomers, were no less aware of her +than those who, with Farrell, devoted themselves to supply the two +sisters with tea. + +Nelly herself, extremely shy, but sustained somehow by the thought that +she must hold her own in this new world, was soon deep in conversation +with a charming youth, who owned a long, slightly lantern-jawed face and +fair hair, moved on crutches with a slung knee, and took everything +including his wound as 'funny.' + +'Where is your husband?' he asked her. 'Sir William thinks he is +somewhere near Festubert? My hat, the Lanchesters have been having a hot +time there!--funny, isn't it? But they'll be moved to an easier job +soon. They're always in luck--the Lanchesters--funny, I call it?--what? +I wouldn't worry if I were you. Your husband's got through this all +right--mightn't have another such show for ages. These things are awful +chancey--funny, isn't it? Oh, my wound?--well, it was just when I was +getting over the parados to move back to billets--that the brute got me. +Funny, wasn't it? Hullo!--here's a swell! My hat!--it's General Torr!' + +Nelly looked up bewildered to see a group of officers enter the room, +headed by a magnificent soldier, with light brown hair, handsome +features, and a broad be-ribboned chest. Miss Farrell greeted him and +his comrades with her best smiles; and Nelly observed her closely, as +she stood laughing and talking among them. Sir William's sister was in +uniform, if it could be called a uniform. She wore a nurse's cap and +apron over a pale blue dress of some soft crapey material. The cap was a +square of fine lawn, two corners of which were fastened under the chin +with a brooch consisting of one large pearl. The open throat showed a +single string of fine pearls, and diamonds sparkled in the small ears. +Edging the cap on the temples and cheeks were little curls--a la +Henrietta Maria--and the apron, also of the finest possible lawn, had a +delicately embroidered edge. The lips of the wearer had been +artificially reddened, her eyebrows and eyelids had been skilfully +pencilled, her cheeks rouged. A more extraordinary specimen of the +nursing sisterhood it would have been impossible to find. Nevertheless +the result was, beyond gainsaying, both amusing and picturesque. The lad +beside Nelly watched Miss Farrell with a broad grin. On the other hand, +a lady in a thin black dress and widow's veil, who was sitting near +Bridget, turned away after a few minutes' observation of the hostess, +and with a curling lip began to turn over a book lying on a table near +her. But whether the onlookers admired or disapproved, there could be no +question that Miss Farrell held the field. + +'I am very glad to hear that Mrs. Sarratt has good news of her husband!' +said Captain Marsworth courteously to Bridget, hardly able to make +himself heard however amid the din and laughter of the central group. He +too had been watching Cicely Farrell--but with a wholly impassive +countenance. Bridget made some indifferent answer, and then eagerly +asked who the visitors were. She was told that they were officers from a +neighbouring camp, including the general commanding the camp. Sir +William, said Captain Marsworth, had built the whole camp at his own +expense, and on his own land, without waiting for any government +contractor. + +'I suppose he is so enormously rich--he can do anything he wants!' said +Bridget, her face kindling. 'It must be grand never to think what you +spend.' + +Captain Marsworth was a trifle taken aback by the remark, as Sir William +was barely a couple of yards away. + +'Yes, I daresay it's convenient,' he said, lightly. 'And what do you +find to do with yourself at Rydal?' + +Bridget informed him briefly that she was correcting some proof-sheets +for a friend, and would then have an index to make. + +Captain Marsworth looked at her curiously. + +'May one ask what the book is?' + +'It's something new about psychology,' said Bridget, calmly. 'It's going +to be a great deal talked about. My friend's awfully clever.' + +'Ah! Doesn't she find it a little difficult to think about psychology +just now?' + +'Why should she? Somebody's got to think about psychology,' was the +sharp reply. 'You can't let everything go, because there's a war.' + +'I see! You remind me of a man I know, who's translating Dante. He's +just over military age, and there he sits in a Devonshire valley, with a +pile of books. I happen to know a particular department in a public +office that's a bit hustled for want of men, and I suggested that he +should lend a hand. He said it was his business to keep culture going!' + +'Well?' said Bridget. + +The challenging obstinacy of her look daunted him. He laughed. + +'You think it natural--and right--to take the war like that?' + +'Well, I don't see who's got a right to interfere with you if you do,' +she said, stiffly. Then, however, it occurred even to her obtuse and +self-centred perception, that she was saying something unexpected and +distasteful to a man who was clearly a great friend of the Farrells, and +therefore a member of the world she envied. So she changed the subject. + +'Does Miss Farrell ever do any real nursing?' she asked abruptly. + +Captain Marsworth's look became, in a moment, reserved and cold. 'She's +always ready to do anything for any of us!' + +Then the speaker rose. 'I see Sir William's preparing to take your +sister into the gardens. You certainly ought to see them. They're very +famous.' + + * * * * * + +The party streamed out into the paths leading through a wood, and past a +series of water-lily pools to the walled gardens. Sir William walked in +front with Nelly. + +'My brother's new craze!' said Cicely in the ear of the General beside +her, who being of heroic proportions had to stoop some way to hear the +remark. He followed the direction of her eyes. + +'What, that little woman? A vision! Is it only looks, or is there +something besides?' + +Cicely shrugged her shoulders. + +'I don't know. I haven't found out. The sister's plain, disagreeable, +stupid.' + +'She looks rather clever.' + +'Doesn't that show she's stupid? Nobody ought to look clever. Do you +admire Mrs. Sarratt?' + +'Can one help it? Or are you going also to maintain,' laughed the +general, 'that no one can be beautiful who looks it?' + +'One _could_ maintain it--easily. The best kind of beauty has always to +be discovered. What do you think, Captain Marsworth?' + +She turned--provokingly--to the soldier on her left hand. + +'About beauty?' He looked up listlessly. 'I've no idea. The day's too +hot.' + +Cicely eyed him. + +'You're tired!' she said peremptorily. 'You've been doing too much. You +ought to go and rest.' + +He smiled, and standing back he let them pass him. Turning into a side +path he disappeared towards the hospital. + +'Poor old fellow!--he still looks very delicate,' said the General. 'How +is he really getting on?' + +'The arm's improving. He's having massage and electricity. Sometimes he +seems perfectly well,' said Cicely. An oddly defiant note had crept into +the last sentence. + +'He looks down--out of spirits. Didn't he lose nearly all his friends at +Neuve Chapelle?' + +'Yes, some of his best friends.' + +'And half the battalion! He always cared enormously about his men. He +and I, you know, fought in South Africa together. Of course then he was +just a young subaltern. He's a splendid chap! I'm afraid he won't get to +the front again. But of course they'll find him something at home. He +ought to marry--get a wife to look after him. By the way, somebody told +me there was some talk about him and the daughter of the rector here. A +nice little girl. Do you know her?' + +'Miss Stewart? Yes.' + +'What do you think of her?' + +'A little nincompoop. Quite harmless!' + +The handsome hero smiled--unseen by his companion. + +Meanwhile Farrell was walking with Nelly through the stately series of +walled gardens, which his grandfather had planned and carried out, +mainly it seemed for the boredom of the grandson. + +'What do we want with all these things now?' he said, waving an +impatient hand, as he and Nelly stood at the top flight of steps looking +down upon the three gardens sloping to the south, with their fragments +of statuary, and old leaden statuettes, ranged along the central walks. +'They're all out of date. They were before the war; and the war has +given them the _coup de grâce_. No more big estates--no more huge +country houses! My grandfather built and built, for the sake of +building, and I pay for his folly. After the war!--what sort of a world +shall we tumble into!' + +'I don't want these gardens destroyed!' said Nelly, looking up at him. +'No one ought to spoil them. They're far too beautiful!' + +She was beginning to speak with more freedom, to be less afraid of him. +The gap between her small provincial experience and modes of thought, +and his, was narrowing. Each was beginning to discover the inner +personality of the other. And the more Farrell explored her the more +charmed he was. She was curiously ignorant, whether of books or life. +Even the busy commercial life amid which she had been brought up, as it +seemed to him, she had observed but little. When he asked her questions +about Manchester, she was generally vague or puzzled. He saw that she +was naturally romantic; and her passion for the absent Sarratt, together +with her gnawing anxiety about him which could not be concealed, made +her, again, very touching in the eyes of a man of imagination whose +feelings were quick and soft. He walked about with her for more than an +hour, discoursing ironically on the Grecian temples, the rustic bridges +and pools and fountains, now in imitation of the older Versailles and +now of the Trianon, with which his grandfather had burdened his +descendants; so that the glorious evening, as it descended, presently +became a merry duel between him and her, she defending and admiring his +own possessions, and he attacking them. Her eyes sparkled, and a bright +red--a natural red--came back into her pale cheeks. She spoke and moved +with an evident exhilaration, as though she realised her own developing +powers, and was astonished by her own readiness of speech, and the sheer +pleasure of talk. And something, no doubt, entered in of the new scene; +its scale and magnificence, so different from anything she had yet +known; its suggestion of a tradition reaching back through many +generations, and of a series of lives relieved from all vulgar +necessities, playing as they pleased with art and money, with water and +wood. + +At the same time she was never merely dazzled; and never, for one +moment, covetous or envious. He was struck with her simple dignity and +independence; and he perfectly understood that a being so profoundly in +love, and so overshadowed by a great fear, could only lend, so to speak, +her outer mind to Carton or the persons in it. He gathered roses for +her, and did his utmost to please her. But she seemed to him all the +time like a little hovering elf--smiling and gay--but quite intangible. + + * * * * * + +Dinner in the 'cottage' was short, but in Bridget's eyes perfect. +Personally, she was not enjoying herself very much, for she had made up +her mind that she did not get on with military men, and that it was +their fault, not hers; so that she sat often silent, a fact however +unnoticed in the general clatter of the table. She took it quite calmly, +and was more than compensated for the lack of conversation by the whole +spectacle of the Farrell wealth; the flowers, the silver, the costly +accessories of all kinds, which even in war-time, and in a 'cottage,' +seemed to be indispensable. It would have been more amusing, no doubt, +if it had been the big house and not the cottage. Sometimes through the +open windows and the trees, she caught sight of the great lighted pile a +little way off, and found herself dreaming of what it would be to live +there, and to command all that these people commanded. She saw herself +sweeping through the magnificent rooms, giving orders, inviting guests, +entertaining royalty, driving about the country in splendid motors. It +was a waking dream, and though she never uttered a word, the animation +of her thoughts infused a similar animation into her aspect, and made +her almost unconscious of her neighbours. Captain Marsworth made several +attempts to win her attention before she heard him. + +'Yes.' + +She turned at last an absent glance upon him. + +'Miss Farrell talks of our all going over to the hospital after dinner. +She and Sir William often spend the evening there,' said Captain +Marsworth, quite aware from Miss Farrell's frequent glances in his +direction that he was not in her opinion doing his duty with Miss +Cookson. + +'Will it take us long?' said Bridget, the vivacity of her look dying +out. + +'As long as you please to stay!' laughed the Captain, drily. + + * * * * * + +That passage after dinner through the convalescent wards of the finely +equipped hospital was to Nelly Sarratt an almost intolerable experience. +She went bravely through it, leaving, wherever she talked to a +convalescent, an impression of shy sweetness behind her, which made a +good many eyes follow her as Farrell led her through the rooms. But she +was thankful when it was over; and when, at last, she was alone in her +room for the night, she flew--for consolation--to the drawer in which +she had locked her writing-desk, and the letters she had received that +morning. The post had just arrived as they were leaving Rydal, and she +had hastily torn open a letter from George, and thrust the others into a +large empty envelope. And now she discovered among them to her delight a +second letter from George, unopened. What unexpected joy! + +It too was dated--'Somewhere in France'--and had been written two days +after the letter she had opened in the morning. + +'My darling--we're having a real jolly time here--in an old village, +far behind the line, and it is said we shall be here for three whole +weeks. Well, some of us really wanted it, for the battalion has been in +some very hot fighting lately, and has had a nasty bit of the line to +look after for a long time--with nothing very much to show for it. My +platoon has lost some of its best men, and I've been pretty badly hit, +as some of them were real chums of mine--the bravest and dearest +fellows. And I don't know why, but for the first time, I've been feeling +rather jumpy and run down. So I went to a doctor, and he told me I'd +better go off duty for a fortnight. But just then, luckily, the whole +battalion was ordered, as I told you a week ago, into what's called +"divisional rest," so here we are--for three weeks! Quite good +billets--an old French farm--with two good barns and lots of straw for +the men, and an actual bedroom for me--and a real bed--_with sheets!_ +Think of that! I am as comfortable as possible. Just at first I'm going +to stay in bed for a couple of days to please the doctor--but then I +shall be all right, and shall probably take a course of gymnastics +they're starting here--odd, isn't it?--like putting us to school +again!--so that I may be quite fit before going back to the front. + +'One might almost forget the war here, if it weren't for the rumble of +the guns which hardly ever ceases. They are about thirty-five miles +away. The whole country is quite peaceful, and the crops coming on +splendidly. The farm produces delicious brown eggs--and you should +see--and _taste_--the omelets the farmer's wife makes! Coffee +too--first-rate! How these French women work! Our men are always +helping them, and the children hang round our Tommies like flies. + +'These two days in bed are a godsend, for I can read all your letters +through again. There they are--spread out on my sheet! By Jove, little +woman, you've treated me jolly well! And now I can pay you back a +little. But perhaps you won't mind, dearest, if I don't write anything +very long, for I expect I ought to take it easy--for a bit--I can't +think why I should have felt so slack. I never knew anything about +nerves before. But the doctor has been very nice and understanding--a +real, decent fellow. He declares I shall be as fit as a fiddle, long +before the three weeks are done. + +'My bedroom door is open, and some jolly yellow chickens are wandering +in and out. And sometimes the farmer's youngest--a nice little chap of +eight--comes to look at me. I teach him English--or I try--but when I +say the English words, he just doubles up with laughing and runs away. +Nelly, my precious--if I shut my eyes--I can fancy your little head +there--just inside the door--and your eyes looking at me!...May the Lord +give us good luck--and may we all be home by Christmas!--Mind you finish +that sketch!' + +She put the letter down with a rather tremulous hand. It had depressed +her, and made her anxious. She read in it that George had been through +horrible things--and had suffered. + +Then all that she had seen in the hospital came back upon her, and +rising restlessly she threw herself, without undressing, face downwards +on her bed. That officer, blanched to the colour of white wax, who had +lost a leg after frightful haemorrhage; that other, the merest boy, +whose right eye had been excised--she could not get them out of her +mind, nor the stories they had told her of the actions in which they had +been wounded. + +'George--George!' It was a moan of misery, stifled in the darkness. + +Then, suddenly, she remembered she had not said good-night to Bridget. +She had forgotten Bridget. She had been unkind. She got up, and sped +along the passage to Bridget's room. + +'Bridget!' She just opened the door. 'May I come in?' + +'Come in.' + +Bridget was already in bed. In her hands was a cup of steaming chocolate +which a maid had just brought her, and she was lingering over it with a +face of content. + +Nelly opened her eyes in astonishment. + +'Did you ask for it, Bridget?' + +'I did--or rather the housemaid asked what I would have. She +said--"ladies have just what they like in their rooms." So I asked for +chocolate.' + +Nelly sat down on the bed. + +'Is it good?' + +'Excellent,' said Bridget calmly. 'Whatever did you expect?' + +'We seem to have been eating ever since we came!' said Nelly +frowning,--'and they call it economising!' + +Bridget threw back her head with a quiet laugh. + +'Didn't I tell you so?' + +'I wondered how you got on at dinner?' said Nelly hesitating. 'Captain +Marsworth didn't seem to be taking much trouble?' + +'It didn't matter to me,' said Bridget. 'That kind of man always behaves +like that,' + +Nelly flushed. + +'You mean soldiers behave like that?' + +'Well, I don't like soldiers--brothers-in-law excepted, of course.' And +Bridget gave her short, rather harsh laugh. + +Nelly got up. + +'Well, I shall be ready to go as early as you like on Monday, Bridget. +It was awfully good of you to pack all my things so nicely!' + +'Don't I always?' Bridget laughed. + +'You do--you do indeed. Good-night.' + +She touched Bridget's cheek with her lips and stole away. + +Bridget was left to think. There was a dim light in the room showing the +fine inlaid furniture, the flowery paper, the chintz-covered arm-chairs +and sofa, and, through an open door, part of the tiled wall of the +bathroom. + +Miss Cookson had never slept in such a room before, and every item in +it pleased a starved sense in her. Poverty was _hateful_! Could one +never escape it? + +Then she closed her eyes, and seemed to be watching Sir William and +Nelly in the gardens, his protecting eager air--her face looking up. Of +_course_ she might have married him--with the greatest ease!--if only +George Sarratt had not been in the way. + +But supposing-- + +All the talk that evening had been of a new 'push'--a new and steady +offensive, as soon as the shell supply was better. George would be in +that 'push.' Nobody expected it for another month. By that time he would +be back at the front. She lay and thought, her eyes closed, her harsh +face growing a little white and pinched under the electric lamp beside +her. Potentially, her thoughts were murderous. The _wish_ that George +might not return formed itself clearly, for the first time, in her mind. +Dreams followed, as to consequences both for Nelly and herself, +supposing he did not return. And in the midst of them she fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +August came, the second August of the war. The heart of England was sad +and sick, torn by the losses at Gallipoli, by the great disaster of the +Russian retreat, by the shortage of munitions, by the endless small +fighting on the British front, which eat away the young life of our +race, week by week, and brought us no further. But the spirit of the +nation was rising--and its grim task was becoming nakedly visible at +last. _Guns--men!_ Nothing else to say--nothing else to do. + +George Sarratt's battalion returned to the fighting line somewhere about +the middle of August. 'But we are only marking time,' he wrote to his +wife. 'Nothing doing here, though the casualties go on every day. +However we all know in our bones there will be plenty to do soon. As for +me I am--more or less--all right again.' + +Indeed, as September wore on, expectation quickened on both sides of the +Channel. Nelly went in fear of she knew not what. The newspapers said +little, but through Carton and the Farrells, she heard a great deal of +military gossip. The shell supply was improving--the new Ministry of +Munitions beginning to tell--a great blow was impending. + +Weeks of rain and storm died down into an autumnal gentleness. The +bracken was turning on the hills, the woods beginning to dress for the +pageant of October. The sketching lessons which the usual August deluge +had interrupted were to begin again, as soon as Farrell came home. He +had been in France for a fortnight, at Etaples, and in Paris, studying +new methods and appliances for the benefit of the hospital. But whether +he was at home or no, the benefactions of Carton never ceased. Almost +every other day a motor from the Hall drove up laden with fruit and +flowers, with books and magazines. + +The fourth week of September opened. The rumours of coming events crept +more heavily and insistently than ever through a sudden spell of heat +that hung over the Lakes. Nelly Sarratt slept little, and wrote every +day to her George, letters of which long sections were often destroyed +when written, condemned for lack of cheerfulness. + +She was much touched by Farrell's constant kindness, and grateful for +it; especially because it seemed to keep Bridget in a good temper. She +was grateful too for the visitors whom a hint from him would send on +fine afternoons to call on the ladies at Rydal--convalescent officers, +to whom the drive from Carton, and tea with 'the pretty Mrs. Sarratt' +were an attraction, while Nelly would hang breathless on their gossip of +the war, until suddenly, perhaps, she would turn white and silent, lying +back in her garden chair with the look which the men talking to +her--brave, kind-hearted fellows--soon learnt to understand. Marsworth +came occasionally, and Nelly grew to like him sincerely, and to be +vaguely sorry for him, she hardly knew why. Cicely Farrell apparently +forgot them entirely. And in August and the first part of September she +too, according to Captain Marsworth's information, had been away, paying +visits. + +On the morning of September 26th, the Manchester papers which reached +the cottage with the post contained columns of telegrams describing the +British attack at Loos, and the French 'push' in Champagne. Among the +letters was a short word from Sarratt, dated the 24th. 'We shall +probably be in action to-morrow, dearest. I will wire as soon as I can, +but you must not be anxious if there is delay. As far as I can judge it +will be a big thing. You may be sure I shall take all the precautions +possible. God bless you, darling. Your letters are _everything_.' + +Nelly read the letter and the newspaper, her hands trembling as she held +it. At breakfast, Bridget eyed her uncomfortably. + +'He'll be all right!' she said with harsh decision. 'Don't fret.' + +The day passed, with heavy heat mists over the Lake, the fells and the +woods blotted out. On pretence of sketching, Nelly spent the hours on +the side of Loughrigg, trying sometimes to draw or sew, but for the most +part, lying with shut eyes, hidden among the bracken. Her faculty for +dreaming awake--for a kind of visualisation sharper than most people +possess--had been much developed since George's departure. It partly +tormented, partly soothed her. + +Night came without news. 'I _can't_ hear till to-morrow night,' she +thought, and lay still all night patient and sleepless, her little hands +crossed on her breast. The window was wide open and she could see the +stars peering over Loughrigg. + +Next morning, fresh columns in the newspaper. The action was still going +on. She must wait. And somehow it was easier to wait this second day; +she felt more cheerful. Was there some secret voice telling her that if +he were dead, she would have heard? + +After lunch she set out to take some of the Carton flowers to the +farmer's wife living in a fold of the fell, who had lost her only son in +the July fighting. Hester Martin had guided her there one day, and some +fellow-feeling had established itself rapidly between Nelly, and the +sad, dignified woman, whose duties went on as usual while all that gave +them zest had departed. + +The distance was short, and she left exact word where she could be +found. As she climbed the narrow lane leading to the farm, she presently +heard a motor approaching. The walls enclosing the lane left barely room +to pass. She could only scramble hurriedly up a rock which had been +built into the wall, and hold on to a young tree growing from it. The +motor which was large and luxurious passed slowly, and in the car she +saw two young men, one pale and sickly-looking, wrapped in a great-coat +though the day was stuffily warm: the other, the driver, a tall and +stalwart fellow, who threw Nelly a cold, unfriendly look as they went +by. Who could they be? The road only led to the farm, and when Nelly had +last visited Mrs. Grayson, a week before, she and her old husband and a +granddaughter of fourteen had been its only inmates. + +Mrs. Grayson received her with a smile. + +'Aye, aye, Mrs. Sarratt, coom in. Yo're welcome.' + +But as Nelly entered the flagged kitchen, with its joints of bacon and +its bunches of dried herbs, hanging from the low beamed ceiling, its +wide hob grate, its dresser, table and chairs of old Westmorland oak, +every article in it shining with elbow-grease,--she saw that Mrs. +Grayson looked particularly tired and pale. + +'Yo mun ha' passed them in t' lane?' said the farmer's wife wearily, +when the flowers had been admired and put in water, and Nelly had been +established in the farmer's own chair by the fire, while his wife +insisted on getting an early cup of tea. + +'Who were they, Mrs. Grayson?' + +'Well, they're nobbut a queer soart, Mrs. Sarratt--and I'd be glad to +see t' back on 'em. They're "conscientious objectors"--that's what they +are--an my husband coom across them in Kendal toother day. He'd +finished wi t' market, and he strolled into the room at the Town Hall, +where the men were coomin' in--yo know--to sign on for the war. An' he +got talkin' wi' these two lads, who were lookin' on as he was. And they +said they was "conscientious objectors"--and wouldn't fight not for +nothing nor nobody. But they wouldn't mind doing their bit in other +ways, they said. So John he upped and said--would they coom and help him +with his second crop o' hay--you know we've lost nearly all our men, +Mrs. Sarratt--and they said they would--and that very evening he brought +'em along. And who do you think they are?' + +Nelly could not guess; and Mrs. Grayson explained that the two young men +were the wealthy sons of a wealthy Liverpool tradesman and were starting +a branch of their father's business in Kendal. They had each of them a +motor, and apparently unlimited money. They had just begun to be useful +in the hay-making--'But they wouldn't _touch_ the stock--they wouldn't +kill anything--not a rat! They wouldn't even shoo the birds from the +oats! And last night one of them was took ill--and I must go and sit up +with him, while his brother fetched the big car from Kendal to take him +home. And there was he, groaning,--nobbut a bit of _colic_, Mrs. +Sarratt, that anybody might have!--and there I sat--thinking of our lads +in the trenches--thinking of _my boy_--that never grumbled at +anything--and would ha' been just ashamed to make such a fuss for such a +little. And this afternoon the brother's taken him away to be +molly-coddled at home. And, of course, they've left us, just when they +might ha' been o' soom real service. There's three fields still liggin +oot in t' wet--and nobody to lend a hand wi' them. But I doan't want +them back! I doan't hold wi' foak like that. I doan't want to see a mon +like that settin' where my boy used to set, when he came home. It goes +agin me. I can't soomhow put up wi' it.' + +And as she sat there opposite Nelly, her gnarled and work-stained hands +resting on her knees, the tears suddenly ran over her cheeks. But she +quickly apologised for herself. 'The truth is I am run doon, Mrs. +Sarratt. I've done nothing but _cook_ and _cook_--since these young men +coom along. They wouldn't eat noa flesh--soa I must always be cookin' +summat--vegetables--or fish--or sweet things. I'm fair tired oot!' + +Nelly exclaimed indignantly. + +'Was it their _religion_ made them behave like that?' + +'Religion!' Mrs. Grayson laughed. 'Well, they was only the yan Sunday +here--but they took no account o't, whativer. They went motorin' all +day; an niver set foot in church or chapel. They belong to soom Society +or other--I couldna tell what. But we'll not talk o' them ony more, Mrs. +Sarratt, if yo please. I'm just thankful they're gone ... An have ye +heard this day of Mr. Sarratt?' + +The gentle ageing face bent forward tenderly. Nelly lifted her own +dark-rimmed eyes to it Her mouth quivered. + +'No, not yet, Mrs. Grayson. But I shall soon. You'll have seen about +this fighting in the newspapers? There's been a great battle--I think +he'll have been in it. I shall hear to-night. I shall be sure to hear +to-night.' + +'The Lord protect him!' said Mrs. Grayson softly. They both sat silent, +looking into the fire. Through the open door, the hens could be heard +pecking and clucking in the yard, and the rushing of a beck swollen by +the rain, on the fell-side. Presently the farmer's wife looked up-- + +'It's devil's work, is war!' she said, her eyes blazing. Nelly held out +her hand and Mrs. Grayson put hers into it. The two women looked at each +other,--the one who had lost, and the other who feared to lose. + +'Yes, it's awful,' said Nelly, in a low voice. 'They want us to be +brave--but--' + +Mrs. Grayson shook her head again. + +'We can do it when they're settin' there--afore us,' she said, 'but not +when we're by our lone.' + +Nelly nodded. + +'It's the nights that are worst--' she murmured, under her +breath--'because it's then they're fighting--when we're in +bed--sleeping.' + +'My boy was killed between one and two in the morning '--whispered Mrs. +Grayson. 'I heard from one of his friends this morning. He says it was +a lovely night, and the daylight just comin' up. I think of it when I'm +layin' awake and hearing the birds beginning.' + +There was silence again, till Mrs. Grayson said, suddenly, with a +strange passion:-- + +'But I'd rather be Jim's mother, and be settin' here without him, than +I'd be the mother o'yan of them young fellows as is just gone!' + +'Yes,' said Nelly slowly--'yes. If we think too much about keeping them +safe--just for ourselves--If; they despise--they _would_ despise us. +And if anyone hangs back, we despise them. It' a horrible puzzle.' + +'We can pray for them,' said Mrs. Grayson simply. 'God can keep them +safe if it's His will.' + +'Yes '--said Nelly again. But her tone was flat and hesitating. Her +ever-present fear was very little comforted by prayer. But she found +comfort in Mrs. Grayson. She liked to stay on in the old kitchen, +watching Mrs. Grayson's household ways, making friends with the stolid +tabby cat, or listening to stories of Jim as a child. Sometimes she +would read parts of George's letters to this new friend. Bridget never +cared to hear them; and she was more completely at ease with the +farmer's wife even than with Hester Martin. + +But she could not linger this afternoon. Her news might come any time. +And Sir William had telephoned that morning to say that he and his +sister would call on their way from Windermere, and would ask for a cup +of tea. Marsworth would probably meet them at Rydal. + +As she descended the lane, she scolded herself for ingratitude. She was +glad the Farrells were coming, because they would bring newspapers, and +perhaps information besides, of the kind that does not get into +newspapers. But otherwise--why had she so little pleasure now in the +prospect of a visit from Sir William Farrell? He had never forced +himself upon them. Neither his visits nor his lessons had been +oppressively frequent, while the kindnesses which he had showered upon +them, from a distance, had been unceasing. She could hardly have +explained her disinclination. Was it that his company had grown so +stimulating and interesting to her, that it made her think too much of +other things than the war?--and so it seemed to separate her from +George? Her own quiet occupations--the needlework and knitting that she +did for a neighbouring war workroom, the gathering and drying of the +sphagnum moss, the visiting of a few convalescent soldiers, a daily +portion of Wordsworth, and some books about him--these things were +within her compass George knew all about them, for she chronicled them +in her letters day by day. She had a happy peaceful sense of communion +with him while she was busy with them. But Farrell's restless mind and +wide culture at once tired and fascinated her. He would often bring a +volume of Shelley, or Pater, or Hardy, or some quite modern poet, in his +pocket, and propose to read to her and Bridget, when the sketching was +done. And as he read, he would digress into talk, the careless audacity +of which would sometimes distress or repel, and sometimes absorb her; +till suddenly, perhaps, she realised how far she was wandering from that +common ground where she and George had moved together, and would try and +find her way back to it. She was always learning some new thing; and she +hated to learn, unless George changed and learnt with her. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Captain Marsworth was walking along the road from Grasmere to +Rydal with a rather listless step. As a soldier he was by no means +satisfied with the news of the week. We ought to have been in Lille and +weren't. It seemed to him that was about what the Loos action came to; +and his spirits were low. In addition he was in one of those fits of +depression which attack an able man who has temporarily come to a +stand-still in life, when his physical state is not buoyant enough to +enable him to fight them off. He was beginning plainly to see that his +own part in the war was done. His shattered arm, together with the +neuralgic condition which had followed on the wound, were not going to +mend sufficiently within any reasonable time to let him return to the +fighting line, where, at the moment of his wound, he was doing +divisional staff work, and was in the way of early promotion. He was a +man of clear and vigorous mind, inclined always to take a pessimistic +view of himself and his surroundings, and very critical also of persons +in authority; a scientific soldier, besides, indulging a strong natural +contempt for the politicians and all their crew, only surpassed by a +similar scorn of newspapers and the press. He had never been popular as +a subaltern, but since he had conquered his place among the 'brains' of +the army, his fame had spread, and it was freely prophesied that his +rise would be rapid. So that his growing conviction that his active +military career was over had been the recent cause in him of much +bitterness of soul. It was a bitter realisation, and a recent one. He +had been wounded at Neuve Chapelle in March, and up to July he had been +confident of complete and rapid recovery. + +Well, there was of course some compensation. A post in the War +Office--in the Intelligence Department--would, he understood, be offered +him; and by October he meant to be at work. Meanwhile an old school and +college friendship between himself and 'Bill Farrell,' together with the +special facilities at Carton for the treatment of neuralgia after +wounds, had made him an inmate for several months of the special wing +devoted to such cases in the splendid hospital; though lately by way of +a change of surroundings, he had been lodging with the old Rector of the +village of Carton, whose house was kept--and well kept--by a +sweet-looking and practical granddaughter, herself an orphan. + +Marsworth had connections in high quarters, and possessed some +considerable means. He had been a frequenter of the Farrells since the +days when the old aunt was still in command, and Cicely was a young +thing going to her first dances. He and she had sparred and quarrelled +as boy and girl. Now that, after a long interval, they had again been +thrown into close contact, they sparred and quarrelled still. He was a +man of high and rather stern ideals, which had perhaps been +intensified--made a little grimmer and fiercer than before--by the +strain of the war; and the selfish frivolity of certain persons and +classes in face of the national ordeal was not the least atoned for in +his eyes by the heroism of others. The endless dress advertisements in +the daily papers affected him as they might have affected the prophet +Ezekiel, had the daughters of Judah added the purchase of fur coats, +priced from twenty guineas to two hundred to their other enormities. He +had always in his mind the agonies of the war, the sights of the +trenches, the holocaust of young life, the drain on the national +resources, the burden on the national future. So that the Farrell +motor-cars and men servants, the costly simplicity of the 'cottage,' +Cicely's extravagance in dress, her absurd and expensive uniform, her +make-up and her jewels, were so many daily provocations to a man thus +sombrely possessed. + +And yet--he had not been able so far to tear himself away from Carton! +And he knew many things about Cicely Farrell that Nelly Sarratt had not +discovered; things that alternately softened and enraged him; things +that kept him now, as for some years past, provokingly, irrationally +interested in her. He had once proposed to her, and she had refused him. +That was known to a good many people. But what their relations were now +was a mystery to the friends on both sides. + +Whatever they were, however, on this September afternoon Marsworth was +coming rapidly to the conclusion that he had better put an end to them. +His latent feelings of resentment and irritation had been much sharpened +of late by certain passages of arms between himself and Cicely--since +she returned from her visits--with regard to that perfectly gentle and +inoffensive little maiden, Miss Daisy Stewart, the Rector's +granddaughter. Miss Farrell had several times been unpardonably rude to +the poor child in his presence, and, as it seemed to him, with the +express object of showing him how little she cared to keep on friendly +terms with him. + +Nevertheless--he found himself puzzling over certain other incidents in +his recent ken, of a different character. The hospital at Carton was +mainly for privates, with a certain amount of accommodation for +officers. He had done his best during the summer to be useful to some +poor fellows, especially of his own regiment, on the Tommies' side. And +he had lately come across some perplexing signs of a special +thoughtfulness on Miss Farrell's part for these particular men. He had +discovered also that she had taken pains to keep these small kindnesses +of hers from his knowledge. + +'I wasn't to tell you, sir,'--said the boy who had lost an eye--'not +whatever. But when you come along with them things'--a set of draughts +and a book--'why it do seem as though I be gettin' more than my share!' + +Well, she had always been incomprehensible--and he was weary of the +attempt to read her. But he wanted a home--he wanted to marry. He began +to think again--in leisurely fashion--of the Rector's granddaughter. + +Was that Mrs. Sarratt descending the side-lane? The sight of her +recalled his thoughts instantly to the war, and to a letter he had +received that morning from a brother officer just arrived in London on +medical leave--the letter of a 'grouser' if ever there was one. + +'They say that this week is to see another big push--the French probably +in Champagne, and we south of Bethune. I know nothing first-hand, but I +do know that it can only end in a few kilometres of ground, huge +casualties,--and, as you were! _We are not ready_--we can't be ready for +months. On the other hand we must keep moving--if only to kill a few +Germans, and keep our own people at home in heart. I passed some of the +Lanchesters on my way down--going up, as fresh as paint after three +weeks' rest--what's left of them. They're sure to be in it.' + +The little figure in the mauve cotton had paused at the entrance to the +lane, perceiving him. + +What about Sarratt? Had she heard? He hurried on to meet her, and put +his question. + +'There can't be any telegram yet,' she said, her pale cheeks flushing. +'But it will come to-night. Shall we go back quickly?' + +They walked on rapidly. He soon found she did not want to talk of the +news, and he was driven back on the weather. + +'What a blessing to see the sun again I this west country damp +demoralises me.' + +'I think I like it!' + +He laughed. + +'Do you only "say that to annoy "?' + +'No, I _do_ like it! I like to see the rain shutting out everything, so +that one can't make any plans--or go anywhere.' She smiled, but he was +well aware of the fever in her look. He had not seen it there since the +weeks immediately following Sarratt's departure. His heart warmed to the +frail creature, tremulous as a leaf in the wind, yet making a show of +courage. He had often asked himself whether he would wish to be loved as +Mrs. Sarratt evidently loved her husband; whether he could possibly meet +such a claim upon his own sensibility. But to-day he thought he could +meet it; to-day he thought it would be agreeable. + +Nelly had not told Marsworth however that one reason for which she +liked the rain was that it had temporarily put an end to the sketching +lessons. Nor could she have added that this new distaste in her, as +compared with the happy stir of fresh or quickened perception, which had +been the result of his early teaching, was connected, not only with Sir +William--but with Bridget--her sister Bridget. + +But the truth was that something in Bridget's manner, very soon after +the Carton visit, had begun to perplex and worry the younger sister. Why +was Bridget always insisting on the lessons?--always ready to scold +Nelly if one was missed--and always practising airs and graces with Sir +William that she wasted on no one else? Why was she so frequently away +on the days when Sir William was expected? Nelly had only just begun to +notice it, and to fall back instinctively on Miss Martin's company +whenever it could be had. She hated her own vague annoyance with +Bridget's behaviour, just because she could not pour herself out to +George about it. It was really too silly and stupid to talk about. She +supposed--she dreaded--that Bridget might be going to ask Sir William +some favour; that she meant to make use of his kindness to her sister in +order to work upon him. How horrible that would be!--how it would spoil +everything! Nelly began sometimes to dream of moving, of going to +Borrowdale, or to the coast at Scascale. And then, partly her natural +indolence, and partly her clinging to every rock and field in this +beautiful place where she had been so happy, intervened; and she let +things slide. + +Yet when Sir William and Cicely arrived, to find Bridget making tea, and +Nelly listening with a little frown of effort, while Marsworth, pencil +in hand, was drawing diagrams _à la Belloc_, to explain to her the +Russian retreat from Galicia, how impossible not to feel cheered by +Farrell's talk and company! The great _bon enfant_, towering in the +little room, and positively lighting it up by the red-gold of his-hair +and beard, so easily entertained, so overflowing with kind intentions, +so fastidious intellectually, and so indulgent morally:--as soon as he +appeared he filled the scene. + +'No fresh news, dear Mrs. Sarratt, nothing whatever,' he said at once, +meeting her hungry eyes. 'And you?' + +She shook her head. + +'Don't worry. You'll get it soon. I've sent the motor back to Windermere +for the evening papers.' + +Meanwhile Marsworth found himself reduced to watching Cicely, and +presently he found himself more angry and disgusted than he had ever yet +been. How could she? How dared she? On this day of all days, to be +snobbishly playing the great lady in Mrs. Sarratt's small sitting-room! +Whenever that was Cicely's mood she lisped; and as often as Marsworth, +who was sitting far away from her, talking to Bridget Cookson, caught +her voice, it seemed to him that she was lisping--affectedly--monstrously. +She was describing for instance a certain ducal household in which she +had just been spending the week-end, and Marsworth heard her say-- + +'Well at last, poor Evelyn' ('poor Evelyn' seemed to be a youthful +Duchess, conducting a war economy campaign through the villages of her +husband's estate), 'began to get threatening letters. She found out +afterwards they came from a nurse-maid she had sent away. "Madam, don't +you talk to us, but look at 'ome! examine your own nursewy, Madam, and +hold your tongue!" She did examine, and I found her cwying. "Oh, +Cicely, isn't it awful, I've just discovered that Nurse has been +spending _seven pounds a week_ on Baby's wibbons!" So she's given up war +economy!' + +'Why not the "wibbons?"' said Hester Martin, who had just come in and +heard the tale. + +'Because nobody gives up what they weally want to have,' said Cicely +promptly, with a more affected voice and accent than before. + +Bridget pricked up her ears and nodded triumphantly towards Nelly. + +'Don't talk nonsense, Cicely,' said Farrell. 'Why, the Duchess has +planted the whole rose-garden with potatoes, and sold all her Pekinese.' + +'Only because she was tired of the Pekinese, and has so many flowers she +doesn't know what to do with them! On the other hand the _Duke_ wants +parlour-maids; and whenever he says so, Evelyn draws all the blinds +down and goes to bed. And that annoys him so much that he gives in! +Don't you talk, Willy. The Duchess always gets wound you!' + +'I don't care twopence about her,' said Farrell, rather savagely. 'What +does she matter?' Then he moved towards Nelly, whose absent look and +drooping attitude he had been observing for some minutes. + +'Shan't we go down to the Lake, Mrs. Sarratt? It seems really a fine +evening at last, and there won't be so many more. Let me carry some +shawls. Marsworth, lend a hand.' + +Soon they were all scattered along the edge of the Lake. Hester Martin +had relieved Marsworth of Bridget; Farrell had found a dry rock, and +spread a shawl upon it for Nelly's benefit. Marsworth and Cicely had no +choice but to pair; and she, with a grey hat and plume half a yard high, +preposterously short skirts, and high-heeled boots buttoned to the knee, +condescended to stroll beside him, watching his grave embarrassed look +with an air of detachment as dramatically complete as she could make it. + + * * * * * + +'You look awfully tired!' said Farrell to his companion, eyeing her with +most sincere concern. 'I wonder what you've been doing to yourself.' + +'I'm all right,' she said with emphasis. 'Indeed I'm all right. You said +you'd sent for the papers?' + +'The motor will wait for them at Windermere. But I don't think there'll +be much more to hear. I'm afraid we've shot our bolt.' + +She clasped her hands listlessly on her knee, and said nothing. + +'Are you quite sure Sarratt has been in it?' he asked her. + +'Oh, yes, I'm sure.' + +There was a dull conviction in her voice. She began to pluck at the +grass beside her, while her dark contracted eyes swept the Lake in front +of her--seeing nothing. + +'Good God!'--thought Farrell--'Are they all--all the women--suffering +like this?' + +'You'll get a telegram from him to-morrow, I'm certain you will!' he +said, with eager kindness. 'Try and look forward to it. You know the +good chances are five to one.' + +'Not for a lieutenant,' she said, under her breath. 'They have to lead +their men. They can't think of their own lives.' + +There was silence a little. Then Farrell said--floundering, 'He'd want +you to bear up!' + +'I am bearing up!' she said quickly, a little resentfully. + +'Yes, indeed you are!' He touched her arm a moment caressingly, as +though in apology. It was natural to his emotional temperament to +express itself so--through physical gesture. But Nelly disliked the +touch. + +'I only meant'--Farrell continued, anxiously--'that he would beg you +not to anticipate trouble--not to go to meet it.' + +She summoned smiles, altering her position a little, and drawing a wrap +round her. The delicate arm was no longer within his reach. + +And restlessly she began to talk of other things--the conscientious +objectors of the morning--Zeppelins--a recruiting meeting at Ambleside. +Farrell had the impression of a wounded creature that could not bear to +be touched; and it was something new to his prevailing sense of power in +life, to be made to realise that he could do nothing. His sympathy +seemed to alienate her; and he felt much distressed and rebuffed. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile as the clouds cleared away from the September afternoon, +Marsworth and Cicely were strolling along the Lake, and sparring as +usual. + +He had communicated to her his intention of leaving Carton within a week +or so, and trying some fresh treatment in London. + +'You're tired of us?' she enquired, her head very much in air. + +'Not at all. But I think I might do a bit of work.' + +'The doctors don't think so.' + +'Ah, well--when a man's got to my stage, he must make experiments on his +own. It won't be France--I know that. But there's lots else.' + +'You'll break down in a week!' she said with energy. 'I had a talk +about you with Seaton yesterday.' + +He looked at her with amusement. For the moment, she was no longer +Cicely Farrell, extravagantly dressed, but the shrewd hospital worker, +who although she would accept no responsibility that fettered her goings +and comings beyond a certain point, was yet, as he well knew, +invaluable, as a force in the background, to both the nursing and +medical staff of Carton. + +'Well, what did Seaton say?' + +'That you would have another bad relapse, if you attempted yet to go to +work.' + +'I shall risk it.' + +'That's so like you. You never take anyone's advice.' + +'On the contrary, I am the meekest and most docile of men.' She shrugged +her shoulders. + +'You were docile, I suppose, when Seaton begged you not to go off to the +Rectory, and give yourself all that extra walking backwards and forwards +to the hospital every day?' + +'I wanted a change of scene. I like the old Rector--I even like family +prayers.' + +'I am sure everything--and _everybody_--is perfect at the Rectory!' + +'No--not perfect--but peaceable.' + +He looked at her smiling. His grey eyes, under their strong black brows, +challenged her. She perceived in them a whole swarm of unspoken +charges. Her own colour rose. + +'So peace is what you want?' + +'Peace--and a little sympathy.' + +'And we give you neither?' + +He hesitated. + +'Willy never fails one.' + +'So it's my crimes that are driving you away? It's all to be laid on my +shoulders?' + +He laughed--uncertainly. + +'Don't you believe me when I say I want to do some work?' + +'Not much. So I have offended you?' + +His look changed, became grave--touched with compunction. + +'Miss Farrell, I oughtn't to have been talking like this. You and Willy +have been awfully good to me.' + +'And then you call me "Miss Farrell"!' she cried, passionately--'when +you know very well that you've called me Cicely for years.' + +'Hush!' said Marsworth suddenly, 'what was that?' + +He turned back towards Rydal. On the shore path, midway between them and +the little bay at the eastern end of the lake, where Farrell and Nelly +Sarratt had been sitting, were Hester Martin and Bridget. They too had +turned round, arrested in their walk. Beyond them, at the edge of the +water, Farrell could be seen beckoning. And a little way behind him on +the slope stood a boy with a bicycle. + +'He is calling us,' said Marsworth, and began to run. + +Hester Martin was already running--Bridget too. + +But Hester and Marsworth outstripped the rest. Farrell came to meet +them. + +'Hester, for God's sake, get her sister!' + +'What is it?' gasped Hester. 'Is he killed?' + +'No--"Wounded and missing!" Poor, poor child!' + +'Where is she?' + +'She's sitting there--dazed--with the telegram. She's hardly said +anything since it came.' + +Hester ran on. There on a green edge of the bank sat Nelly staring at a +fluttering piece of paper. + +Hester sank beside her, and put her arms round her. + +'Dear Mrs. Sarratt!' + +'What does it mean?' said Nelly turning her white face. 'Read it.' + +'"Deeply regret to inform you your husband reported wounded and +missing!"' + +'_Missing?_ That means--a prisoner. George is a prisoner--and wounded! +Can't I go to him?' + +She looked piteously at Hester. Bridget had come up and was standing +near. + +'If he's a prisoner, he's in a German hospital. Dear Mrs. Sarratt, +you'll soon hear of him!' + +Nelly stood up. Her young beauty of an hour before seemed to have +dropped from her like the petals of a rose. She put her hand to her +forehead. + +'But I shan't see him--again'--she said slowly--'till the end of the +war--_the end of the war_'--she repeated, pressing her hands on her +eyes. The note of utter desolation brought the tears to Hester's cheeks. +But before she could say anything, Nelly had turned sharply to her +sister. + +'Bridget, I must go up to-night!' + +'Must you?' said Bridget reluctantly. 'I don't see what you can do.' + +'I can go to the War Office--and to that place where they make enquiries +for you. Of _course_, I must go to London!--and I must stay there. There +might be news of him any time.' + +Bridget and Hester looked at each other. The same thought was in their +minds. But Nelly, restored to momentary calmness by her own suggestion, +went quickly to Farrell, who with his sister and Marsworth was standing +a little way off. + +'I must go to London to-night, Sir William. Could you order something +for me?' + +'I'll take you to Windermere, Mrs. Sarratt,' said Cicely before her +brother could reply. 'The motor's there now.' + +'No, no, Cicely, I'll take Mrs. Sarratt,' said Farrell impatiently. +'I'll send back a car from Ambleside, for you and Marsworth.' + +'You forget Sir George Whitehead,' said Cicely quietly. 'I'll do +everything.' + +Sir George Whitehead of the A.M.S.C. was expected at Carton that +evening on a visit of inspection to the hospital. Farrell, as +Commandant, could not possibly be absent. He acknowledged the fact by a +gesture of annoyance. Cicely immediately took things in charge. + +A whirl of packing and departure followed. By the time she and her +charges left for Windermere, Cicely's hat and high heels had been +entirely blotted out by a quite extraordinary display on her part of +both thoughtfulness and efficiency. Marsworth had seen the same +transformation before, but never so markedly. He tried several times to +make his peace with her; but she held aloof, giving him once or twice an +odd look out of her long almond-shaped eyes. + +'Good-bye, and good luck!' said Farrell to Nelly, through the car +window; and as she held out her hand, he stooped and kissed it with a +gulp in his throat. Her deathly pallor and a grey veil thrown back and +tied under her small chin gave her a ghostly loveliness which stamped +itself on his recollection. + +'I am going up to town myself to-morrow. I shall come and see if I can +do anything for you.' + +'Thank you,' said Nelly mechanically. 'Oh yes, I shall have thought of +many things by then. Good-bye.' + +Marsworth and Farrell were left to watch the disappearance of the car +along the moonlit road. + +'Poor little soul!' said Farrell--'poor little soul!' He walked on +along the road, his eyes on the ground. Marsworth offered him a cigar, +and they smoked in silence. + +'What'll the next message be?' said Farrell, after a little while. +'"Reported wounded and missing--now reported killed"? Most probable!' + +Marsworth assented sadly. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +It was a pale September day. In the country, among English woods and +heaths the sun was still strong, and trees and bracken, withered heath, +and reddening berries, burned and sparkled beneath it. But in the dingy +bedroom of a dingy Bloomsbury hotel, with a film of fog over everything +outside, there was no sun to be seen; the plane trees beyond the windows +were nearly leafless; and the dead leaves scudding and whirling along +the dusty, airless streets, under a light wind, gave the last dreary +touch to the scene that Nelly Sarratt was looking at. She was standing +at a window, listlessly staring at some houses opposite, and the +unlovely strip of garden which lay between her and the houses. Bridget +Cookson was sitting at a table a little way behind her, mending some +gloves. + +The sisters had been four days in London. For Nelly, life was just +bearable up to five or six o'clock in the evening because of her morning +and afternoon visits to the Enquiry Office in D---- Street, where +everything that brains and pity could suggest was being done to trace +the 'missing'; where sat also that kind, tired woman, at the table which +Nelly by now knew so well, with her pitying eyes, and her soft voice, +which never grew perfunctory or careless. 'I'm _so_ sorry!--but there's +no fresh news.' That had been the evening message; and now the day's +hope was over, and the long night had to be got through. + +That morning, however, there had been news--a letter from Sarratt's +Colonel, enclosing letters from two privates, who had seen Sarratt go +over the parapet in the great rush, and one of whom had passed +him--wounded--on the ground and tried to stay by him. But 'Lieutenant +Sarratt wouldn't allow it.' 'Never mind me, old chap'--one witness +reported him as saying. 'Get on. They'll pick me up presently.' And +there they had left him, and knew no more. + +Several other men were named, who had also seen him fall, but they had +not yet been traced. They might be in hospital badly wounded, or if +Sarratt had been made prisoner, they had probably shared his fate. 'And +if your husband has been taken prisoner, as we all hope,' said the +gentle woman at the office--'it will be at least a fortnight before we +can trace him. Meanwhile we are going on with all other possible +enquiries.' + +Nelly had those phrases by heart. The phrases too of that short +letter--those few lines--the last she had ever received from George, +written two days before the battle, which had reached her in Westmorland +before her departure. + +That letter lay now on her bosom, just inside the folds of her blouse, +where her hand could rest upon it at any moment. How passionately she +had hoped for another, a fragment perhaps torn from his notebook in the +trenches, and sent back by some messenger at the last moment! She had +heard of that happening to so many others. Why not to her!--oh, why not +to her? + +Her heart was dry with longing and grief; her eyes were red for want of +sleep. There were strange numb moments when she felt nothing, and could +hardly remember why she was in London. And then would come the sudden +smart of reviving consciousness--the terrible returns of an anguish, +under which her whole being trembled. And always, at the back of +everything, the dull thought--'I always knew it--I knew he would +die!'--recurring again and again; only to be dashed away by a protest no +less persistent--'No, no! He is _not dead!--not dead!_ In a +fortnight--she said so--there'll be news--they'll have found him. Then +he'll be recovering--and prisoners are allowed to write. Oh, my +George!--my George!' + +It was with a leap of ecstasy that yet was pain, that she imagined to +herself the coming of the first word from him. Prisoners' letters came +regularly--no doubt of that. Why, the landlady at the hotel had a son +who was at Ruhleben, and she heard once a month. Nelly pictured the +moment when the letter would be in her hand, and she would be looking at +it. Oh, no doubt it wouldn't be addressed by him! By the nurse +perhaps--a German nurse--or another patient. He mightn't be well +enough. All the same, the dream filled her eyes with tears, that for a +moment eased the burning within. + +Her life was now made up of such moments and dreams. On the whole, what +held her most was the fierce refusal to think of him as dead. That +morning, in dressing, among the clothes they had hurriedly brought with +them from Westmorland, she saw a thin black dress--a useful stand-by in +the grime of London--and lifted her hands to take it from the peg on +which it hung. Only to recoil from it with horror. _That_--never! And +she had dressed herself with care in a coat and skirt of rough blue +tweed that George had always liked; scrupulously putting on her little +ornaments, and taking pains with her hair. And at every step of the +process, she seemed to be repelling some attacking force; holding a door +with all her feeble strength against some horror that threatened to come +in. + +The room in which she stood was small and cheerless; but it was all they +could afford. Bridget frankly hated the ugliness and bareness of it; +hated the dingy hotel, and the slatternly servants, hated the boredom of +the long waiting for news to which apparently she was to be committed, +if she stayed on with Nelly. She clearly saw that public opinion would +expect her to stay on. And indeed she was not without some natural pity +for her younger sister. There were moments when Nelly's state caused her +extreme discomfort--even something more. But when they occurred, she +banished them as soon as possible, and with a firm will, which grew the +firmer with exercise. It was everybody's duty to keep up their spirits +and not to be beaten down by this abominable war. And it was a special +duty for those who hated the war, and would stop it at once if they +could. Yet Bridget had entirely declined to join any 'Stop the War,' or +pacifist societies. She had no sympathy with 'that sort of people.' Her +real opinion about the war was that no cause could be worth such +wretched inconvenience as the war caused to everyone. She hated to feel +and know that probably the majority of decent people would say, if +asked,--as Captain Marsworth had practically said--that she, Bridget +Cookson, ought to be doing V.A.D. work, or relieving munition-workers at +week-ends, instead of fiddling with an index to a text-book on 'The New +Psychology.' The mere consciousness of that was already an attack on her +personal freedom to do what she liked, which she hotly resented. And as +to that conscription of women for war-work which was vaguely talked of, +Bridget passionately felt that she would go to prison rather than submit +to such a thing. For the war said nothing whatever to her heart or +conscience. All the great tragic side of it--the side of death and +wounds and tears--of high justice and ideal aims--she put away from her, +as she always had put away such things, in peace. They did not concern +her personally. Why _make_ trouble for oneself? + +And yet here was a sister whose husband was 'wounded and +missing'--probably, as Bridget firmly believed, already dead. And the +meaning of that fact--that possibility--was writ so large on Nelly's +physical aspect, on Nelly's ways and plans, that there was really no +getting away from it. Also--there were other people to be considered. +Bridget did not at all want to offend or alienate Sir William +Farrell--now less than ever. And she was quite aware that he would think +badly of her, if he suspected she was not doing her best for Nelly. + +The September light waned. The room grew so dark that Bridget turned on +an electric light beside her, and by the help of it stole a long look at +Nelly, who was still standing by the window. Would grieving--would the +loss of George--take Nelly's prettiness away? She had certainly lost +flesh during the preceding weeks and days. Her little chin was very +sharp, as Bridget saw it against the window, and her hair seemed to have +parted with its waves and curls, and to be hanging limp about her ears. +Bridget felt a pang of annoyance that anything should spoil Nelly's good +looks. It was altogether unnecessary and absurd. + +Presently Nelly moved back towards her sister. + +'I don't know how I shall get through the next fortnight,' she said in a +low voice. 'I wonder what we had better do?' + +'Well, we can't stay here,' said Bridget sharply. 'It's too expensive, +though it is such a poky hole. We can find a lodging, I suppose, and +feed ourselves. Unless of course we went back to Westmorland. Why can't +you? They can always telegraph.' + +Nelly flushed. Her hand lying on the back of Bridget's chair shook. + +'And if George sent for me,' she said, in the same low, strained voice, +'it would take eight hours longer to get to him than it would from +here.' + +Bridget said nothing. In her heart of hearts she felt perfectly certain +that George never would send. She rose and put down her needlework. + +'I must go and post a letter downstairs. I'll ask the woman in the +office if she knows anything about lodgings.' + +Nelly went back to her post by the window. Her mind was bruised between +two conflicting feelings--a dumb longing for someone to caress and +comfort her, someone who would meet her pain with a bearing less hard +and wooden than Bridget's--and at the same time, a passionate shrinking +from the bare idea of comfort and sympathy, as something not to be +endured. She had had a kind letter from Sir William Farrell that +morning. He had spoken of being soon in London. But she did not know +that she could bear to see him--unless he could help--get something +_done!_ + +Bridget descended to the ground floor, and had a conversation with the +young lady in the office, which threw no light at all on the question of +lodgings. The young lady in question seemed to be patting and pinning up +her back hair all the time, besides carrying on another conversation +with a second young lady in the background. Bridget was disgusted with +her and was just going upstairs again, when the very shabby and partly +deformed hall porter informed her that someone--a gentleman--was waiting +to see her in the drawing-room. + +A gentleman? Bridget hastened to the small and stuffy drawing-room, +where the hall porter had just turned on the light, and there beheld a +tall bearded man pacing up and down, who turned abruptly as she entered. + +'How is she? Is there any news?' + +Sir William Farrell hurriedly shook her offered hand, frowning a little +at the sister who always seemed to him inadequate and ill-mannered. + +'Thank you, Sir William; she is quite well. There is a little news--but +nothing of any consequence.' + +She repeated the contents of the hospital letter, with the comments on +it of the lady they had seen at the office. + +'We shan't hear anything more for a fortnight. They have written to +Geneva.' + +'Then they think he's a prisoner?' + +Bridget supposed so. + +'At any rate they hope he is. Well, I'm thankful there's no worse news. +Poor thing--poor little thing! Is she bearing up--eating?--sleeping?' + +He asked the questions peremptorily, yet with a real anxiety. Bridget +vaguely resented the peremptoriness, but she answered the questions. It +was very difficult to get Nelly to eat anything, and Bridget did not +believe she slept much. + +Farrell shook his head impatiently, with various protesting noises, +while she spoke. Then drawing up suddenly, with his hands in his +pockets, he looked round the room in which they stood. + +'But why are you staying here? It's a dreadful hole! That porter gave me +the creeps. And it's so far from everywhere.' + +'There is a tube station close by. We stay here because it's cheap,' +said Bridget, grimly. + +Sir William walked up the room again, poking his nose into the moribund +geranium that stood, flanked by some old railway guides, on the middle +table, surveyed the dirty and ill-kept writing-table, the uncomfortable +chairs, and finally went to look out of the window; after which he +suddenly and unaccountably brightened up and turned with a smile to +Bridget. + +'Do you think you could persuade your sister to do something that would +please me very much?' + +'I'm sure I don't know, Sir William.' + +'Well, it's this. Cicely and I have a flat in St. James' Square. I'm +there very little just now, and she less. You know we're both awfully +busy at Carton. We've had a rush of wounded the last few weeks. I must +be up sometimes on business for the hospital, but I can always sleep at +my club. So what I want to persuade you to do, Miss Cookson, is to get +Mrs. Sarratt to accept the loan of our flat, for a few weeks while she's +kept in town. It would be a real pleasure to us. We're awfully sorry for +her!' + +He beamed upon her, all his handsome face suffused with kindness and +concern. + +Bridget was amazed, but cautious. + +'It's awfully good of you--but--shouldn't we have to get a servant? I +couldn't do everything.' + +Sir William laughed. + +'Gracious--I should think not! There are always servants there--it's +kept ready for us. I put in a discharged soldier--an army cook and his +wife--a few months ago. They're capital people. I'm sure they'd look +after you. Well now, will you suggest that to Mrs. Sarratt? Could I see +her?' + +Bridget hesitated. Some instinct told her that Nelly would not wish to +accept this proposal. She said slowly-- + +'I'm afraid she's very tired to-night.' + +'Oh, don't bother her then! But just try and persuade her--won't +you--quietly? And send me a word to-night.' + +He gave the address. + +'If I hear that you'll come, I'll make all the arrangements to-morrow +morning before I leave for Westmorland. You can just take her round in a +taxi any time you like, and the servants will be quite ready for you. +You'll be close to D---- Street--close to everything. Now do!' + +He stood with his hands on his side looking down eagerly and a little +sharply on the hard-featured woman before him. + +'It's awfully good of you,' said Bridget again--'most awfully good. Of +course I'll tell Nelly what you say.' + +'And drop me a line to-night?' + +'Yes, I'll write.' + +Sir William took up his stick. + +'Well, I shall put everything in train. Tell her, please, what a +pleasure she'd give us. And she won't keep Cicely away. Cicely will be +up next week. But there's plenty of room. She and her maid wouldn't make +any difference to you. And please tell Mrs. Sarratt too, that if there's +anything I can do--_anything_--she has only to let me know.' + + * * * * * + +Bridget went back to the room upstairs. As she opened the door she saw +Nelly standing under the electric light--motionless. Something in her +attitude startled Bridget. + +She called-- + +'Nelly!' + +Nelly turned slowly, and Bridget saw that she had a letter in her hand. +Bridget ran up to her. + +'Have you heard anything?' + +'He _did_ write to me!--he did!--just the last minute--in the trench. I +knew he must. He gave it to an engineer officer who was going back to +Headquarters, to post. The officer was badly wounded as he went back. +They've sent it me from France. The waiter brought me the letter just +after you'd gone down.' + +The words came in little panting gasps. + +Then, suddenly, she slipped down beside the table at which Bridget had +been working, and hid her face. She was crying. But it was very +difficult weeping--with few tears. The slight frame shook from top to +toe. + +Bridget stood by her, not knowing what to do. But she was conscious of a +certain annoyance that she couldn't begin at once on the subject of the +flat. She put her hand awkwardly on her sister's shoulder. + +'Don't cry so. What does he say?' + +Nelly did not answer for a little. At last she said, her face still +buried-- + +'It was only--to tell me--that he loved me--' + +There was silence again. Then Nelly rose to her feet. She pressed her +hair back from her white face. + +'I don't want any supper, Bridget. I think--I should like to go to bed.' + +Bridget helped her to undress. It was now nearly dark and she drew down +the blinds. When she looked again at Nelly, she saw her lying white and +still, her wide eyes fixed on vacancy. + +'I found a visitor downstairs,' she said, abruptly. 'It was Sir William +Farrell.' + +Nelly shewed no surprise, or interest. But she seemed to find some words +mechanically. + +'Why did he come?' + +Bridget came to the bedside. + +'He wants us to go and stay at his flat--their flat. He and his sister +have it together--in St. James' Square. He wants us to go to-morrow. +He's going back to Carton. There are two servants there. We shouldn't +have any trouble. And you'd be close to D---- Street. Any news they got +they could send round directly.' + +Nelly closed her eyes. + +'I don't care where we go,' she said, under her breath. + +'He wanted a line to-night,' said Bridget--'I can't hear of any +lodgings. And the boarding-houses are all getting frightfully +expensive--because food's going up so.' + +'Not a boarding-house!' murmured Nelly. A shiver of repulsion ran +through her. She was thinking of a boarding-house in one of the +Bloomsbury streets where she and Bridget had once stayed before her +marriage--the long tables full of strange faces--the drawing-room +crowded with middle-aged women, who stared so. + +'Well, I can write to him to-night then, and say we'll go to-morrow? We +certainly can't stay here. The charges are abominable. If we go to their +flat, for a few days, we can look round us and find something cheap.' + +'Where is it?' said Nelly faintly. + +'In St. James' Square.' + +The address conveyed very little to Nelly. She knew hardly anything of +London. Two visits--one to some cousins in West Kensington, another to +a friend at Hampstead--together with the fortnight three years ago in +the Bloomsbury boarding-house, when Bridget had had some grand scheme +with a publisher which never came off, and Nelly had mostly stayed +indoors with bad toothache:--her acquaintance with the great city had +gone no further. Of its fashionable quarters both she and Bridget were +entirely ignorant, though Bridget would not have admitted it. + +Bridget got her writing-case out of her trunk and began to write to Sir +William. Nelly watched her. At last she said slowly, as though she were +becoming a little more conscious of the world around her:-- + +'It's awfully kind of them. But we needn't stay long.' + +'Oh no, we needn't stay long.' + +Bridget wrote the letter, and disappeared to post it. Nelly was left +alone in darkness. The air about her seemed to be ringing with the words +of her letter. + + 'MY OWN DARLING,--We are just going over. I have found a man going + back to D.H.Q. who will post this--and I just want you to know + that, whatever happens, you are my beloved, and our love can't die. + God bless you, my dear, dear wife.... We are all in good + spirits--everything ought to go well--and I will write the first + moment possible. + + 'GEORGE.' + +She seemed to see him, tearing the leaf from the little block she had +given him, and standing in the trench, so slim and straight in his +khaki. And then, what happened after? when the rush came? Would she +never know? If he never came back to her, what was she going to do with +her life? Waves of lonely terror went through her--terror of the long +sorrow before her--terror of her own weakness. + +And then again--reaction. She sat up in bed, angrily wrestling with her +own lapse from hope. Of course it was all coming right! She turned on +the light, with a small trembling hand, and tried to read a newspaper +Bridget had brought in. But the words swam before her; the paper dropped +from her grasp; and when Bridget came back, her face was hidden, she +seemed to be asleep. + + * * * * * + +'Is this it?' said Nelly, looking in alarm at the new and splendid house +before which the taxi had drawn up. + +'Well, it's the right number!' And Bridget, rather flurried, looked at +the piece of paper on which Farrell had written the address for her, the +night before. + +She jumped out of the taxi and ran up some marble steps towards a glass +door covered with a lattice metal-work, beyond which a hall, a marble +staircase and a lift shewed dimly. Inside, a porter in livery, at the +first sight of the taxi, put down the newspaper he was reading, and +hurried to the door. + +'Is this Sir William Farrell's flat?' asked Bridget. + +'It's all right, Miss. They're expecting you. Sir William went off this +morning. I was to tell you he had to go down to Aldershot to-day on +business, but he hoped to look in this evening, on his way to Euston, to +see that you had everything comfortable.' + +Reluctantly, and with a feeble step, Nelly descended, helped by the +porter. + +'Oh, Bridget, I wish we hadn't come!' She breathed it into her sister's +ear, as they stood together in the hall, waiting for the lift which had +been called. Bridget shut her lips tightly, and said nothing. + +The lift carried them up to the third floor, and there at the top the +ex-army cook and his wife were waiting, a pair of stout and comfortable +people, all smiles and complaisance. The two small trunks were +shouldered by the man, and the woman led the way. + +'Lunch will be ready directly, Ma'am,' she said to Nelly, who followed +her in bewilderment across a hall panelled in marble and carpeted with +something red and soft. + +'Sir William thought you would like it about one o'clock. And this is +your room, please, Ma'am--unless you would like anything different. It's +Miss Farrell's room. She always likes the quiet side. And I've put Miss +Cookson next door. I thought you'd wish to be together?' + +Nelly entered a room furnished in white and pale green, luxurious in +every detail, and hung with engravings after Watteau framed in white +wood. Through an open door shewed another room a little smaller, but +equally dainty and fresh in all its appointments. Bridget tripped +briskly through the open door, looked around her and deposited her bag +upon the bed. Nelly meanwhile was being shewn the green-tiled and +marble-floored bathroom attached to her room, Mrs. Simpson chattering on +the various improvements and subtleties, which 'Miss Cicely' had lately +commanded there. + +'But I'm sure you'll be wanting your lunch, Ma'am,' said the woman at +last, venturing a compassionate glance at the pale young creature beside +her. 'It'll be ready in five minutes. I'll tell Simpson he can serve +it.' + +She disappeared, and Nelly sank into a chair. Why had they come to this +place? Her whole nature was in revolt. The gaiety and luxury of the flat +seemed to rise up and reproach her. What was she doing in such +surroundings?--when George--Oh, it was hateful--hateful! She thought +with longing of the little bare room in the Rydal lodgings, where they +had been happy together. + +'Well, are you ready?' said Bridget, bustling in. 'Do take off your +things. You look absolutely done up!' + +Nelly rose slowly, but her face had flushed. + +'I can't stay here, Bridget!' she said with energy--'I can't! I don't +know why we came.' + +'Because we were asked,' said Bridget calmly. 'We can stay, I think, +for a couple of days, can't we, till we find something else? Where are +your brushes?' + +And she began vigorously unpacking for her sister, helplessly watched by +Nelly. They had just come from D---- Street, where Nelly had been shewn +various letters and telegrams; but nothing which promised any real +further clue to George Sarratt's fate. He had been seen advancing--seen +wounded--by at least a dozen men of the regiment, and a couple of +officers, all of whom had now been communicated with. But the wave of +the counter-attack--temporarily successful--had rushed over the same +ground before the British gains had been finally consolidated, and from +that fierce and confused fighting there came no further word of George +Sarratt. It was supposed that in the final German retreat he had been +swept up as a German prisoner. He was not among the dead found and +buried by an English search party on the following day--so much had been +definitely ascertained. + +The friendly volunteer in D---- Street--whose name appeared to be Miss +Eustace--had tried to insist with Nelly that on the whole, and so far, +the news collected was not discouraging. At least there was no +verification of death. And for the rest, there were always the letters +from Geneva to wait for. 'One must be patient,' Miss Eustace had said +finally. 'These things take so long! But everybody's doing their best.' +And she had grasped Nelly's cold hands in hers, long and pityingly. Her +own fine aquiline face seemed to have grown thinner and more strained +even since Nelly had known it. She often worked in the office, she said, +up to midnight. + +All these recollections and passing visualisations of words and faces, +drawn from those busy rooms a few streets off, in which not only George +Sarratt's fate, but her own, as it often seemed to Nelly, were being +slowly and inexorably decided, passed endlessly through her brain, as +she mechanically took off her things, and brushed her hair. + +Presently she was following Bridget across the hall to the drawing-room. +Bridget seemed already to know all about the flat. 'The dining-room +opens out of the drawing-room. It's all Japanese,' she said +complaisantly, turning back to her sister. 'Isn't it jolly? Miss Farrell +furnished it. Sir William let her have it all her own way.' + +Nelly looked vaguely round the drawing-room, which had a blue Persian +carpet, pale purple walls, hung with Japanese colour prints, a few +chairs, one comfortable sofa, a couple of Japanese cabinets, and pots of +Japanese lilies in the corners. It was a room not meant for living in. +There was not a book in it anywhere. It looked exactly what it was--a +perching-place for rich people, who liked their own ways, and could not +be bored with hotels. + +The dining-room was equally bare, costly, and effective. Its only +ornament was a Chinese Buddha, a great terra-cotta, marvellously alive, +which had been looted from some Royal tomb, and now sat serenely out of +place, looking over the dainty luncheon-table to the square outside, and +wrapt in dreams older than Christianity. + +The flat was nominally lent to 'Mrs. Sarratt,' but Bridget was managing +everything, and had never felt so much in her element in her life. She +sat at the head of the table, helped Nelly, gave all the orders, and was +extraordinarily brisk and cheerful. + +Nelly scarcely touched anything, and Mrs. Simpson who waited was much +concerned. + +'Perhaps you'd tell Simpson anything you could fancy, Madam,' she said +anxiously in Nelly's ear, as she handed the fruit. Nelly must needs +smile when anyone spoke kindly to her. She smiled now, though very +wearily. + +'Why, it's all beautiful, thank you. But I'm not hungry.' + +'We'll have coffee in the drawing-room, please, Mrs. Simpson,' said +Bridget rising--a tall masterful figure, in a black silk dress, which +she kept for best occasions. 'Now Nelly, you must rest.' + +Nelly let herself be put on the sofa in the drawing-room, and +Bridget--after praising the coffee, the softness of the chairs, the +beauty of the Japanese lilies, and much speculation on the value +of the Persian carpet which, she finally decided, was old and +priceless--announced that she was going for a walk. + +'Why don't you come too, Nelly? Come and look at the shops. You +shouldn't mope all day long. If they do send for you to nurse George, +you won't have the strength of a cat.' + +But Nelly had shrunk into herself. She said she would stay in and write +a letter to Hester Martin. Presently she was left alone. Mrs. Simpson +had cleared away, and shut all the doors between the sitting-rooms and +the kitchen. Inside the flat nothing was to be heard but the clock +ticking on the drawing-room mantelpiece. Outside, there were +intermittent noises and rattles from the traffic in the square, and +beyond that again the muffled insistent murmur which seemed to Nelly +this afternoon--in her utter loneliness--the most desolate sound she had +ever heard. The day had turned to rain and darkness, and the rapid +closing of the October afternoon prophesied winter. Nelly could not +rouse herself to write the letter to Miss Martin. She lay prone in a +corner of the sofa, dreaming, as she had done all her life; save that +the faculty--of setting in motion at will a stream of vivid and +connected images--which had always been one of her chief pleasures, was +now an obsession and a torment. How often, in her wakeful nights at +Rydal, had she lived over again every moment in the walk to Blea Tarn, +till at last, gathered once more on George's knees, and nestling to his +breast, she had fallen asleep--comforted. + +She went through it all, once more, in this strange room, as the +darkness closed; only the vision ended now, not in a tender thrill--half +conscious, fading into sleep--of remembered joy, but in an anguish of +sobbing, the misery of the frail tormented creature, unable to bear its +life. + +Nevertheless sleep came. For nights she had scarcely slept, and in the +silence immediately round her the distant sounds gradually lost their +dreary note, and became a rhythmical and soothing influence. She fell +into a deep unconsciousness. + + * * * * * + +An hour later, a tall man rang at the outer door of the flat. Mrs. +Simpson obeyed the summons, and found Sir William Farrell on the +threshold. + +'Well, have they come?' + +'Oh, yes, sir.' And Mrs. Simpson gave a rapid, _sotto voce_ account of +the visitors' arrival, their lunch, Mrs. Sarratt's sad looks--'poor +little lady!'--and much else. + +Sir William stepped in. + +'Are they at home?' + +Mrs. Simpson shook her head. + +'They went out after lunch, Sir William, and I have not heard them come +in.' + +Which, of course, was a mistake on the part of Mrs. Simpson, who, +hearing the front door close half an hour after luncheon and no +subsequent movement in the flat, had supposed that the sisters had gone +out together. + +'All right. I'll wait for them. I want to see Mrs. Sarratt before I +start. You may get me a cup of tea, if you like.' + +Mrs. Simpson disappeared with alacrity, and Farrell crossed the hall to +the drawing-room. He turned on the light as he opened the door, and was +at once aware of Nelly's slight form on the sofa. She did not move, and +something in her attitude--some rigidity that he fancied--alarmed him. +He took a few steps, and then saw that there was no cause for alarm. She +was only asleep, poor child, profoundly, pathetically asleep. Her utter +unconsciousness, the delicate hand and arm lying over the edge of the +sofa, and the gleam of her white forehead under its muffling cloud of +hair, moved him strangely. He retreated as quietly as he could, and +almost ran into Mrs. Simpson bringing a tray. He beckoned her into a +small room which he used as his own den. But he had hardly explained the +situation, before there were sounds in the drawing-room, and Nelly +opened the door, which he had closed behind him. He had forgotten to +turn out the light, and its glare had awakened her. + +'Oh, Sir William--' she said, in bewilderment--'Did you come in just +now?' + +He explained his proceedings, retaining the hand she gave him, and +looking down upon her with an impulsive and affectionate pity. + +'You were asleep. I disturbed you,' he said, remorsefully. + +'Oh no, do come in.' + +She led the way into the drawing-room. + +'I wanted--specially--to tell you some things I heard at Aldershot +to-day, which I thought might cheer you,' said Farrell. + +And sitting beside her, while Mrs. Simpson lit a fire and spread a white +tea-table, he repeated various stories of the safe return of 'missing' +men which he had collected for her that morning, including the narrative +of an escaped prisoner, who, although badly wounded, had managed to find +his way back, at night, from the neighbourhood of Brussels, through +various hairbreadth adventures and disguises, and after many weeks to +the British lines. He brought the tale to her, as an omen of hope, +together with his other gleanings; and under the influence of his +cheerful voice and manner, Nelly's aspect changed; the light came back +into her eyes, which hung upon him, as Farrell talked on, persuading +himself, as he persuaded her. So that presently, when tea came in, and +the kettle boiled, she was quite ready to pour out for him, to ask him +questions about his night journey, and thank him timidly for all his +kindness. + +'But this--this is too grand for us!'--she said, looking round her. 'We +must find a lodging soon.' + +He begged her earnestly to let the flat be of use to her, and she, +embarrassed and unwilling, but dreading to hurt his feelings, was +compelled at last to submit to a week's stay. + +Then he got up to go; and she was very sorry to say good-bye to him. As +for him, in her wistful and gracious charm, she had never seemed to him +more lovely. How she became grief!--in her measure reserve! + +He ran down the stairs of the mansion just as Bridget Cookson arrived +with the lift at the third floor. She recognised the disappearing +figure, and stood a moment at the door of the flat, looking after it, a +gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. + + + + +PART II + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +'Is she out?' + +The questioner was William Farrell, and the question was addressed to +his cousin Hester, whom he had found sitting in the little upstairs +drawing-room of the Rydal lodgings, partly knitting, but mostly +thinking, to judge from her slowly moving needles, and her absent eyes +fixed upon the garden outside the open window. + +'She has gone down to the lake--it is good for her to be alone a bit.' + +'You brought her up from Torquay?' + +'I did. We slept in London, and arrived yesterday. Miss Cookson comes +this evening.' + +'Why doesn't she keep away?' said Farrell, impatiently. + +He took a seat opposite his cousin. He was in riding-dress, and looked +in splendid case. From his boyhood he had always been coupled in +Hester's mind with the Biblical words--'ruddy and of a cheerful +countenance'; and as he sat there flushed with air and exercise, they +fitted him even better than usual. Yet there was modern subtlety too in +his restless eyes, and mouth alternately sensitive and ironic. + +Hester's needles began to ply a little faster. A spring wind came +through the window, and stirred her grey hair. + +'How did she get over it yesterday?' Farrell presently asked. + +'Well, of course it was hard,' said Hester, quietly. 'I let her alone, +poor child, and I told Mrs. Weston not to bother her. She came up to +these rooms and shut herself up a little. I went over to my own cottage, +and came back for supper. Then she had got it over--and I just kissed +her and said nothing. It was much best.' + +'Do you think she gives up hope?' + +Hester shook her head. + +'Not the least. You can see that.' + +'What do you mean?' + +'When she gives up hope, she will put on a black dress.' + +Farrell gave an impatient sigh. + +'You know there can't be the smallest doubt that Sarratt is dead! He +died in some German hospital, and the news has never come through.' + +'The Red Cross people at Geneva declare that if he had died in hospital +they would know. The identification disks are returned to them--so they +say--with remarkable care.' + +'Well then, he died on the field, and the Germans buried him.' + +'In which case the poor soul will know nothing--ever,' said Hester +sadly. 'But, of course, she believes he is a prisoner.' + +'My dear Hester, if he were, we should certainly have heard! Enquiries +are now much more thorough, and the results much more accurate, than +they were a year ago.' + +'Loss of memory?--shell-shock?' said Hester vaguely. + +'They don't do away with your disk, and your regimental marks, etc. +Whatever may happen to a private, an officer doesn't slip through and +vanish like this, if he is still alive. The thing is perfectly clear.' + +Hester shook her head without speaking. She was just as thoroughly +convinced as Farrell that Nelly was a widow; but she did not see how +anybody could proclaim it before Nelly did. + +'I wonder how long it will take to convince her,' said Farrell, after a +pause. + +'Well, I suppose when peace comes, if there's no news then, she will +have to give it up. By the way, when may one--legally--presume that +one's husband is dead?' asked Hester, suddenly lifting her shrewd grey +eyes to the face of her visitor. + +'It used to be seven years. But I believe now you can go to the +Courts--' + +'If a woman wants to re-marry? Well that, of course, Nelly Sarratt will +never do!' + +'My dear Hester, what nonsense!' said Farrell, vehemently. 'Of course +she'll marry again. What is she?--twenty-one? It would be a sin and a +shame.' + +'I only meant she would never take any steps of her own will to separate +herself from Sarratt.' + +'Women look at things far too sentimentally!' exclaimed Farrell, 'and +they just spoil their lives. However, neither you nor I can prophesy +anything. Time works wonders; and if he didn't, we should all be wrecks +and lunatics!' + +Hester said nothing. She was conscious of suppressed excitement in the +man before her. Farrell watched her knitting fingers for a little, and +then remarked:-- + +'But of course at present what has to be done, is to improve her health, +and distract her thoughts.' + +Hester's eyes lifted again. + +'And _you_ want to take it in hand?' + +Her emphasis on the pronoun was rather sharp. Farrell's fair though +sunburnt skin shewed a sudden redness. + +'Yes, I do. Why shouldn't I?' His look met hers full. + +'She's very lonely--very unprotected,' said Hester, slowly. + +'You mean, you can't trust me?' he said, flushing deeper. + +'No, Willy--no!' Hester's earnest, perplexed look appeased his rising +anger. 'But it's a very difficult position, you must see for yourself. +Ever since George Sarratt disappeared, you've been--what shall I +say?--the poor child's earthly Providence. Her illness--her +convalescence--you've done everything--you've provided everything--' + +'With her sister's consent, remember!--and I promised Sarratt to look +after them!' + +Farrell's blue eyes were now bright and stubborn. Hester realised him as +ready for an argument which both he and she had long foreseen. She and +Farrell had always been rather intimate friends, and he had come to her +for advice in some very critical moments of his life. + +'Her sister!' repeated Hester, contemptuously. 'Yes, indeed, Bridget +Cookson--in my opinion--is a great deal too ready to accept everything +you do! But Nelly has fought it again and again. Only, in her weakness, +with you on one side--and Bridget on the other--what could she do?' + +She had taken the plunge now. Her own colour had risen--her hand shook a +little on her needles. And she had clearly roused some strong emotion in +Farrell. After a few moments' silence, he fell upon her, speaking rather +huskily. + +'You mean I have taken advantage of her?' + +'I don't mean anything of the kind!' Hester's tone shewed her distress. +'I know that all you have done has been out of pure friendship and +goodness-- + +He stopped her. + +'Don't go on!' he said roughly. 'Whatever I am, I'm not a hypocrite. I +worship the ground she treads on!' + +There was silence. Hester bent again over her work. The thoughts of both +flew back over the preceding six months. Nelly's utter collapse after +five or six weeks in London, when the closest enquiries, backed by +Farrell's intelligence, influence and money--he had himself sent out a +special agent to Geneva--had failed to reveal the slightest trace of +George Sarratt; her illness, pneumonia, the result of a slight chill +affecting a general physical state depressed by grief and sleeplessness; +her long and tedious convalescence; and that pitiful dumbness and +inertia from which she had only just begun to emerge. Hester was +thinking too of the nurses, the doctors, the lodgings at Torquay, the +motor, the endless flowers and books!--all provided, practically, by +Farrell, aided and abetted by Bridget's readiness--a discreditable +readiness, in the eyes of a person of such Spartan standards as Hester +Martin--to avail herself to any extent of other people's money. The +patient was not to blame. Even in the worst times of her illness, Nelly +had shewn signs of distress and revolt. But Bridget, instructed by +Farrell, had talked vaguely of 'a loan from a friend'; and Nelly had +been too ill, too physically weak, to urge enquiry further. + +Seeing that he was to blame, Farrell broke in upon Hester's +recollections. + +'You know very well'--he said vehemently--'that if anything less had +been done for her, she would have died!' + +Would she? It was the lavishness and costliness of Farrell's giving +which had shocked Hester's sense of delicacy, and had given rise--she +was certain--to gossip among the Farrell friends and kindred that could +easily have been avoided. She looked at her companion steadily. + +'Suppose we grant it, Willy. But now she's convalescent, she's going to +get strong. Let her live her own life. You can't marry her--and'--she +added it deliberately--'she is as much in love with her poor George as +she ever was!' + +Farrell moved restlessly in his chair. She saw him wince--and she had +intended the blow. + +'I can't marry her--yet--perhaps for years. But why can't I be her +friend? Why can't I share with her the things that give me +pleasure--books--art--and all the rest? Why should you condemn me to see +her living on a pittance, with nobody but a sister who is as hard as +nails to look after her?--lonely, and unhappy, and dull--when I know +that I could help her, turn her mind away from her trouble--make her +take some pleasure in life again? You talk, Hester, as though we had a +dozen lives to play with, instead of this one rickety business!' + +His resentment grew with the expression of it. But Hester met him +unflinchingly. + +'I'm anxious--because human nature is human nature--and risk is risk,' +she said slowly. + +He bent forward, his hands on his knees. + +'I swear to you I will be honestly her friend! What do you take me for, +Hester? You know very well that--I have had my adventures, and they're +over. I'm not a boy. I can answer for myself.' + +'All very well!--but suppose--_suppose_--before she felt herself +free--and against her conscience--_she_ were to fall in love with +_you_?' + +Farrell could not conceal the flash that the mere words, reluctantly as +they were spoken, sent through his blue eyes. He laughed. + +'Well--you're there! Act watch-dog as much as you please. Besides--we +all know--you have just said so--that she does not believe in Sarratt's +death, that she feels herself still his wife, and not his widow. That +fact establishes the relation between her and me. And if the outlook +changes--' + +His voice dropped to a note of pleading-- + +'Let me, Hester!--let me!' + +'As if I could prevent you!' said Hester, rather bitterly, bending again +over her work. + +'Yes, you could. You have such influence with her now, that you could +banish me entirely if you pleased. A word from you would do it. But it +would be hideously cruel of you--and abominally unjust! However, I know +your power--over her--and so over me. And so I made up my mind it was no +good trying to conceal anything from you. I've told you straight out. I +love her--and because I love her--you may be perfectly certain I shall +protect her!' + +Silence again. Farrell had turned towards the open window. When Hester +turned her eyes she saw his handsome profile, his Nibelung's head and +beard against the stony side of the fell. A man with unfair advantages, +it seemed to her, if he chose to put out his strength;--the looks of a +king, a warm heart, a sympathetic charm, felt quite as much by men as by +women, and ability which would have distinguished him in any career, if +his wealth had not put the drag on industry. But at the moment he was +not idle. He was more creditably and fully employed then she had ever +known him. His hospital and his pride in it were in fact Nelly Sarratt's +best safeguard. Whatever he wished, he could not possibly spend all his +time at her feet. + +Hester tried one more argument--the conventional. + +'Have you ever really asked yourself, Willy, how it will look to the +outside world--what people will think? It is all very well to scoff at +Mrs. Grundy, but the poor child has no natural guardian. We both agree +her sister is no use to her.' + +'Let them think!'--he turned to her again with energy--'so long as you +and I _know_. Besides--I shan't compromise her in any way. I shall be +most careful not to do so.' + +'Look at this room!' said Hester drily. She herself surveyed it. +Farrell's laugh had a touch of embarrassment. + +'Well?--mayn't anyone give things to a sick child? Hush!--here she is!' + +He drew further back into the room, and they both watched a little +figure in a serge dress crossing the footbridge beyond the garden. Then +she came into the garden, and up the sloping lawn, her hat dangling in +her hand, and the spring sunshine upon her. Hester thought of the +preceding June; of the little bride, with her springing step, and +radiant eyes. Nelly, as she was now, seemed to her the typical +figure--or rather, one of the two typical figures of the war--the man in +action, the woman in bereavement. Sorrow had marked her; bitten into her +youth, and blurred it. Yet it had also dignified and refined her. She +was no less lovely. + +As she approached, she saw them and waved to them. Farrell went to the +sitting-room door to meet her, and it seemed both to him and Hester that +in spite of her emaciation and her pallor, she brought the spring in +with her. She had a bunch of willow catkins and primroses in her hand, +and her face, for all its hollow cheeks and temples, shewed just a +sparkle of returning health. + +It was clear that she was pleased to see Farrell. But her manner of +greeting him now was very different from what it had been in the days +before her loss. It was much quieter and more assured. His +seniority--there were nineteen years between them--his conspicuous +place in the world, his knowledge and accomplishment, had evidently +ceased to intimidate her. Something had equalised them. + +But his kindness could still make her shy. + +Half-way across the room, she caught sight of a picture, on an easel, +both of which Farrell had brought with him. + +'Oh!---' she said, and stopped short, looking from it to him. + +He enjoyed her surprise. + +'Well? Do you remember admiring it at the cottage? I'm up to the neck in +work. I never go there. I thought you and Hester might as well take care +of it for a bit.' + +Nelly approached it. It was one of the Turner water-colours which +glorified the cottage; the most adorable, she thought, of all of them. +It shewed a sea of downs, their grassy backs flowing away wave after +wave, down to the real sea in the gleaming distance. Between the downs +ran a long valley floor--cottages on it, woods and houses, farms and +churches, strung on a silver river; under the mingled cloud and sunshine +of an April day. It breathed the very soul of England,--of this sacred +long-descended land of ours. Sarratt, who had stood beside her when she +had first looked at it, had understood it so at once. + +'Jolly well worth fighting for--this country! isn't it?' he had said to +Farrell over her head, and once or twice afterwards he had spoken to her +of the drawing with delight. 'I shall think of it--over there. It'll do +one good.' + +As she paused before it now, a sob rose in her throat. But she +controlled herself quickly. Then something beyond the easel caught her +eye--a mass of flowers, freesias, narcissus, tulips, tumbled on a table; +then a pile of new books; and finally, a surprising piece of furniture. + +'What have you been doing now?' she asked him, wondering, and, as Hester +thought, shrinking back a little. + +'It's from Cicely'--he said apologetically. 'She made me bring it. She +declared she'd sampled the sofa here,--' he pointed to an ancient one in +a corner--'and it would disgrace a dug-out. It's her affair--don't blame +me!' + +Nelly looked bewildered. + +'But I'm not ill now. I'm getting well.' + +'If you only knew what a ghost you look still,' he said vehemently, +'you'd let Cicely have her little plot. This used to stand in my +mother's sitting-room. It was bought for her. Cicely had it put to +rights.' + +As he spoke, he made a hasty mental note that Cicely would have to be +coached in her part. + +Nelly examined the object. It was a luxurious adjustable couch, covered +in flowery chintz, with a reading-desk, and well supplied with the +softest cushions. + +She laughed, but there was rather a flutter in her laugh. + +'It's awfully kind of Cicely. But you know--' + +Her eyes turned on Farrell with a sudden insistence. Hester had just +left the room, and her distant voice--with other voices--could be heard +in the garden. + +'--You know you mustn't--all of you--spoil me so, any more. I've got my +life to face. You mean it so kindly--but--' + +She sank into a chair by the window that Farrell had placed for her, and +her aspect struck him painfully. There was so much weakness in it; and +yet a touch of fierceness. + +'I've got my life to face,' she repeated--'and you mustn't, Sir +William--you _mustn't_ let me get too dependent on you--and Cicely--and +Hester. Be my friend--my true friend--and help me--' + +She bent forward, and her pale lips just breathed the rest-- + +'Help me--_to endure hardness_! That's what I want--for George's +sake--and my own. I must find some work to do. In a few months perhaps I +might be able to teach--but there are plenty of things I could do now. I +want to be just--neglected a little--treated as a normal person!' + +She smiled faintly at him as he stood beside her. He felt himself +rebuked--abashed--as though he had been in some sort an intruder on her +spiritual freedom; had tried to purchase her dependence by a kindness +she did not want. That was not in her mind, he knew. But it was in +Hester's. And there was not wanting a certain guilty consciousness in +his own. + +But he threw it off. Absurdity! She _did_ need his friendship; and he +had done what he had done without the shadow of a corrupt motive--_en +tout bien, tout honneur_. + +It was intolerable to him to think of her as poor and resourceless--left +to that disagreeable sister and her own melancholy thoughts. Still the +first need of all was that she should trust him--as a good friend, who +had slipped by force of circumstances into a kind of guardian's +position. Accordingly he applied himself to the kind of persuasion that +befits seniority and experience. She had asked to be treated as a normal +person. He proved to her, gently laughing at her, that the claim was +preposterous. Ask her doctor!--ask Hester! As for teaching, time enough +to talk about that when she had a little flesh on her bones, a little +strength in her limbs. She might read, of course; that was what the +couch was for. Lying there by the window she might become as learned as +she liked, and get strong at the same time. He would keep her stocked +with books. The library at Carton was going mouldy for lack of use. And +as for her drawing, he had hoped--perhaps--she might some time take a +lesson-- + +Then he saw a little shiver run through her. + +'Could I?' she said in a low voice, turning her face away. And he +perceived that the bare idea of resuming old pleasures--the pleasures of +her happy, her unwidowed time--was still a shock to her. + +'I'm sure it would help'--he said, persevering. 'You have a real turn +for water-colour. You should cultivate it--you should really. In my +belief you might do a great deal better with it than with teaching.' + +That roused her. She sat up, her eyes brightening. + +'If I _worked_--you really think? And then,' her voice dropped--'if +George came back--' + +'Exactly,' he said gravely--'it might be of great use. Didn't you wish +for something normal to do? Well, here's the chance. I can supply you +with endless subjects to copy. There are more in the cottage than you +would get through in six months. And I could send you over portfolios of +my own studies and _académies_, done at Paris, and in the Slade, which +would help you--and sometimes we could take some work out of doors.' + +She said nothing, but her sad puzzled eyes, as they wandered over the +garden and the lake, shewed that she was considering it. + +Then suddenly her expression changed. + +'Isn't that Cicely's voice?' She motioned towards the garden. + +'I daresay. I sent on the motor to meet her at Windermere. She's been in +town for two or three weeks, selling at Red Cross Bazaars and things. +And by George!--isn't that Marsworth?' + +He sprang up to look, and verified his guess. The tall figure on the +lawn with Cicely and Hester was certainly Marsworth. He and Nelly looked +at each other, and Nelly smiled. + +'You know Cicely and I have become great friends?' she said shyly. 'It's +so odd that I should call her Cicely--but she makes me.' + +'She treats you nicely?--at last?' + +'She's awfully good to me,' said Nelly, with emphasis. 'I used to be so +afraid of her.' + +'What wrought the miracle?' + +But Nelly shook her head, and would not tell. + +'I had a letter from Marsworth a week ago,' said Farrell +reflecting--'asking how and where we all were. I told him I was tied and +bound to Carton--no chance of getting away for ages--but that Cicely had +kicked over the traces and gone up to London for a month. Then he sent a +post-card to say that he was coming up for a fortnight's treatment, and +would go to his old quarters at the Rectory. Ah!--' + +He paused, grinning. The same thought occurred to both of them. +Marsworth was still suffering very much at times from his neuralgia in +the arm, and had a great belief in one of the Carton surgeons, who, with +Farrell's aid, had now installed one of the most complete electrical and +gymnastic apparatus in the kingdom, at the Carton hospital. Once, during +an earlier absence of Cicely's before Christmas, he had suddenly +appeared at the Rectory, for ten days' treatment; and now--again! +Farrell laughed. + +'As for Cicely, you can never count on her for a week together. She got +home-sick, and wired to me that she was coming to-night. I forgot all +about Marsworth. I expect they met at the station; and quarrelled all +the way here. What on earth is Cicely after in that direction! You say +you've made friends with her. Do you know?' + +Nelly looked conscious. + +'I--I guess something,' she said. + +'But you mustn't tell?' + +She nodded, smiling. Farrell shrugged his shoulders. + +'Well, am I to encourage Marsworth--supposing he comes to me for +advice--to go and propose to the Rector's granddaughter?' + +'Certainly not!' said Nelly, opening a pair of astonished eyes. + +'Aha, I've caught you! You've given the show away. But you know'--his +tone grew serious--'it's not at all impossible that he may. She torments +him too much.' + +'He must do nothing of the kind,' said Nelly, with decision. + +'Well, you tell him so. I wash my hands of them. I can't fathom either +of them. Here they are!' + +Voices ascending the stairs announced the party. Cicely came in first; +tired and travel-stained, and apparently in the worst of tempers. But +she seemed glad to see Nelly Sarratt, whom she kissed, to the +astonishment of her Cousin Hester, who was not as yet aware of the new +relations between the two. And then, flinging herself into a chair +beside Nelly, she declared that she was dead-beat, that the train had +been intolerably full of khaki, and that soldiers ought to have trains +to themselves. + +'Thank your stars, Cicely, that you are allowed to travel at all,' said +Farrell. 'No civilian nowadays matters a hap'orth.' + +'And then we talk about Prussian Militarism!' cried Cicely. And she went +off at score describing the invasion of her compartment at Rugby by a +crowd of young officers, whose manners were 'atrocious.' + +'What was their crime?' asked Marsworth, quietly. He sat in the +background, cigarette in hand, a strong figure, rather harshly drawn, +black hair slightly grizzled, a black moustache, civilian clothes. He +had filled out since the preceding summer and looked much better in +health. But his left arm was still generally in its sling. + +'They had every crime!' said Cicely impatiently. 'It isn't worth +discriminating.' + +Marsworth raised his eyebrows. + +'Poor boys!' + +Cicely flushed. + +'You think, of course, I have no right to criticise anything in khaki!' + +'Not at all. Criticism is the salt of life.' His eyes twinkled. + +'That I entirely deny!' said Cicely, firmly. She made a fantastic but +agreeable figure as she sat near the window in the full golden light of +the March evening. Above her black toque there soared a feather which +almost touched the ceiling of the low room--a _panache_, nodding +defiance; while her short grey skirts shewed her shapely ankles and +feet, clothed in grey gaiters and high boots of the very latest +perfection. + +'What do you deny, Cicely?' asked her brother, absently, conscious +always, through all the swaying of talk, of the slight childish form of +Nelly Sarratt beneath him, in her deep chair; and of the eyes and mouth, +which after the few passing smiles he had struck from them, were veiled +again in their habitual sadness. '_Here I and sorrow sit_.' The words +ran through his mind, only to be passionately rejected. She was +young!--and life was long. Forget she would, and must. + +At her brother's question, Cicely merely shrugged her shoulders. + +'Your sister was critical,' said Marsworth, laughing,--'and then denies +the uses of criticism.' + +'As some people employ it!' said Cicely, pointedly. + +Marsworth's mouth twitched--but he said nothing. + +Then Hester, perceiving that the atmosphere was stormy, started some of +the usual subjects that relieve tension; the weather--the possibility of +a rush of Easter tourists to the Lakes--the daffodils that were +beginning to make beauty in some sheltered places. Marsworth assisted +her; while Cicely took a chair beside Nelly, and talked exclusively to +her, in a low voice. Presently Hester saw their hands slip +together--Cicely's long and vigorous fingers enfolding Nelly's thin +ones. How had two such opposites ever come to make friends? The kindly +old maid was very conscious of cross currents in the spiritual air, as +she chatted to Marsworth. She was keenly aware of Farrell, and could not +keep the remembrance of what he had said to her out of her mind. Nelly's +face and form, also, as the twilight veiled them, were charged for +Hester with pitiful meaning. While at the back of her thoughts there was +an expectation, a constant and agitating expectation, of another +arrival. Bridget Cookson might be upon them at any moment. To Hester +Martin she was rapidly becoming a disquieting and sinister element in +this group of people. Yet why, Hester could not really have explained. + +The afternoon was rapidly drawing in, and Farrell was just beginning to +take out his watch, and talk of starting home, when the usual clatter of +wheels and hoofs announced the arrival of the evening coach. Nelly sat +up, looking very white and weary. + +'I am expecting my sister,' she said to Farrell. 'She has no doubt come +by this coach.' + +And in a few more minutes, Bridget was in the room, distributing to +everybody there the careless staccato greetings which were her way of +protecting herself against the world. Her entrance and her manner had +always a disintegrating effect upon other human beings; and Bridget had +no sooner shaken hands with the Farrells than everybody--save Nelly--was +upon their feet and ready to move. One of Bridget's most curious and +marked characteristics was an unerring instinct for whatever news might +be disagreeable to the company in which she found herself; and on this +occasion she brought some bad war news--a German advance at Verdun, with +corresponding French losses--and delivered it with the emphasis of one +to whom it was not really unwelcome. Cicely, to whom, flourishing her +evening paper, she had mainly addressed herself, listened with the +haughty and casual air she generally put on for Bridget Cookson. She had +succumbed for her own reasons to the charm of Nelly. She was only the +more inclined to be rude to Bridget. Accordingly she professed complete +incredulity on the subject of the news. 'Invented,'--she supposed--'to +sell some halfpenny rag or other. It would all be contradicted +to-morrow.' Then when Bridget, smarting under so much scepticism, +attempted to support her tale by the testimony of various stale morsels +of military gossip, current in a certain pessimist and pacifist +household she had been visiting in Manchester, as to the unfavourable +situation in France, and the dead certainty of the loss of Verdun; +passing glibly on to the 'bad staff work' on the British side, and the +'poor quality of the new officers compared to the old,' etc.--Cicely +visibly turned up her nose, and with a few deft, cat-like strokes put a +raw provincial in her place. She, Cicely, of course--she made it plain, +by a casual hint or two--had just come from the very centre of things; +from living on a social diet of nothing less choice than Cabinet +Ministers and leading Generals--Bonar Law, Asquith, Curzon, Briand, +Lloyd George, Thomas, the great Joffre himself. Bridget began to scowl a +little, and had it been anyone else than Cicely Farrell who was thus +chastising her, would soon have turned her back upon them. For she was +no indiscriminate respecter of persons, and cared nothing at all about +rank or social prestige. But from a Farrell she took all things +patiently; till Cicely, suddenly discovering that her victim was giving +her no sport, called peremptorily to 'Willy' to help her put on her +cloak. But Farrell was having some last words with Nelly, and Marsworth +came forward-- + +'Let me--' + +'Oh thank you!' said Cicely carelessly, 'I can manage it myself.' And +she did not allow him to touch it. + +Marsworth retreated, and Hester, who had seen the little incident, +whispered indignantly in her cousin's ear-- + +'Cicely!--you are a wicked little wretch!' + +But Cicely only laughed, and her feather made defiant nods and +flourishes all the way downstairs. + +'Come along Marsworth, my boy,' said Farrell when the good-byes were +said, and Hester stood watching their departure, while Cicely chattered +from the motor, where she sat wrapped in furs against a rising east +wind. 'Outside--or inside?' He pointed to the car. + +'Outside, thank you,' said Marsworth, with decision. He promptly took +his place beside the chauffeur, and Farrell and his sister were left to +each other's company. Farrell had seldom known his companion more cross +and provoking than she was during the long motor ride home; and on their +arrival at Carton she jumped out of the car, and with barely a nod to +Marsworth, vanished into the house. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Nelly had let Hester install her on the Carton couch, and lay +there well shawled, beside the window, her delicate face turned to the +lake and the mountains. Bridget was unpacking, and Hester was just +departing to her own house. Nelly could hardly let her go. For a month +now, Hester had been with her at Torquay, while Bridget was pursuing +some fresh 'work' in London. And Nelly's desolate heart had found both +calm and bracing in Hester's tenderness. For the plain shapeless +spinster was one of those rare beings who in the Lampadephoria of life, +hand on the Lamp of Love, pure and undefiled, as they received it from +men and women, like themselves, now dead. + +But Hester went at last, and Nelly was alone. The lake lay steeped in a +rich twilight, into which the stars were rising. The purple breast of +Silver How across the water breathed of shelter, of rest, of things +ineffable. Nelly's eyes were full of tears, and her hands clasped on her +breast scarcely kept down the sobbing. There, under the hands, was the +letter which George had written to her, the night before he left her. +She had been told of its existence within a few days of his +disappearance; and though she longed for it, a stubborn instinct had +bade her refuse to have it, refuse to open it. 'No!--I was only to open +it, if George was dead. And he is not dead!' And as time went on, it had +seemed to her for months, as if to open it, would be in some mysterious +way to seal his fate. But at last she had sent for it--at last she had +read it--with bitter tears. + +She would wear no black for him--her lost lover. She told herself to +hope still. But she was, in truth, beginning to despair. And into her +veins, all unconsciously, as into those of the old brown earth, the +tides of youth, the will to live, were slowly, slowly, surging back. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +'You have gone far enough,' said Cicely imperiously. 'I am going to take +you home.' + +'Let me sit a little first. It's all so lovely. Nelly dropped into the +soft springy turf, dried by a mild east wind, and lay curled up under a +rock, every tremulous nerve in her still frail body played on by the +concert of earth and sky before her. It was May; the sky was china-blue, +and the clouds sailed white upon it. The hawthorns too were white upon +the fell-side, beside the ageing gold of the gorse, while below, the +lake lay like roughened silver in its mountain cup, and on the sides of +Nab Scar, below the screes, the bronze of the oaks ran in and out among +the feathery green of the larch plantations, or the flowering grass of +the hay-meadows dropping to the lake. The most spiritual moment of the +mountain spring was over. This was earth in her moment of ferment, +rushing towards the fruition of summer. + +Nelly's youth was keenly, automatically conscious of the physical +pleasure of the day; except indeed for recurrent moments, when that very +pleasure revived the sharpness of grief. Soon it would be the +anniversary of her wedding day. Every hour of that day, and of the +honeymoon bliss which followed it, seemed to be still so close to her. +Surely she had only to put out her hand to find his, and all the horror +and the anguish swept away. Directly she shut her eyes on this spring +scene, she was in that other life, which had been, and therefore must +still be. + +But she had not been talking of him with Cicely. She very seldom talked +of him now, or of the past. She kept up correspondence with half a dozen +men of his company--the brother officer to whom Sarratt had given his +last letter--a sergeant, and three or four privates, who had written to +her about him. She had made friends with them all, especially with the +young lieutenant. They seemed to like hearing from her; and she followed +all their migrations and promotions with a constant sympathy. One of +them had just written to her from a hospital at Boulogne. He had been +seriously wounded in a small affair near Festubert early in May. He was +getting better he said, but he hardly cared whether he recovered or not. +Everybody he cared for in the regiment had 'gone west' in the fighting +of the preceding month. No big push either,--just many little affairs +that came to nothing--it was 'damned luck!' There was one of his +officers that he couldn't get over--he couldn't get over 'Mr. Edward' +being killed. He--the writer--had been Mr. Edward's servant for a month +or two--having known his people at home--and a nicer young fellow +never stepped. 'When I go back, I'm going to look for Mr. Edward--they +say he was buried close to the trenches where he fell, and I'm going to +put him in some quiet place; and then when the war's over we can bring +him back to Baston Magna, and lay him with his own people in Baston +churchyard.' + +'I wonder who Mr. Edward was,' said Nelly to herself, with half shut +eyes. She had entirely forgotten Cicely's neighbourhood. But Cicely +turned round, and asked her what she was thinking of. Nelly repeated the +letter, and Cicely suddenly shewed agitation--'Edward!--Baston +Magna!--he means Edward Longmore!' + +Cicely rarely cried. When she was moved, she had a way of turning a +grey-white, and speaking with particular deliberation, as though every +word were an effort. Of late, for some mysterious reason, she only +indulged occasionally in 'make-up'; there was no rouge, at any rate, on +this afternoon, to disguise her change of colour. She looked oddly at +Nelly. + +'I danced with him at Christmas,' she said. 'There was a very smart +party at a house in Grosvenor Square. The Prince was there, home on +short leave, and about twenty young men in khaki, and twenty girls. +Edward Longmore was there--he wrote to me afterwards. Oh, he was much +younger than I. He was the dearest, handsomest, bravest little fellow. +When I saw his name in the list--I just'--she ground her small white +teeth--'I just _cursed_ the war! Do you know'--she rolled over on the +grass beside Nelly, her chin in her hands--'the July before the war, I +used to play tennis in a garden near London. There were always five or +six boys hanging about there--jolly handsome boys, with everything that +anybody could want--family, and money, and lots of friends--all the +world before them. And there's not one of them left. They're all +_dead_--_dead_! Think of that! Boys of twenty and twenty-one. What'll +the girls do they used to play and dance with? All their playfellows are +gone. They can't marry--they'll never marry. It hadn't anything to do +with me, of course. I'm twenty-eight. I felt like a mother to them! But +I shan't marry either!' + +Nelly didn't answer for a moment. Then she put out a hand and turned +Cicely's face towards her. + +'Where is he?--and what is he doing?' she said, half laughing, but +always with that something behind her smile which seemed to set her +apart. + +Cicely sat up. + +'He? Oh, that gentleman! Well, _he_ has got some fresh work--just the +work he wanted, he says, in the Intelligence Department, and he writes +to Willy that life is "extraordinarily interesting," and he's "glad to +have lived to see this thing, horrible as it is."' + +'Well, you wouldn't wish him to be miserable?' + +'I should have no objection at all to his being miserable,' said Cicely +calmly, 'but I am not such a fool as to suppose that I should ever know +it, if he were.' + +'Cicely!' + +Cicely took up a stalk of grass, and began to bite it. Her eyes seemed +on fire. Nelly was suddenly aware of the flaming up of fierce elemental +things in this fashionably dressed young woman whose time was oddly +divided between an important share in the running of her brother's +hospital, and a hungry search after such gaieties as a world at war +might still provide her with. She could spend one night absorbed in some +critical case, and eagerly rendering the humblest V.A.D. service to the +trained nurses whom her brother paid; and the next morning she would +travel to London in order to spend the second night in one of those +small dances at great houses of which she had spoken to Nelly, where the +presence of men just come from, or just departing to, the firing line +lent a zest to the talk and the flirting, the jealousies and triumphs of +the evening that the dances of peace must do without. Then after a +morning of wild spending in the shops she would take a midday train back +to Cumberland and duty. + +Nelly, looking at her, wondered afresh how they had ever come to be +friends. Yet they were friends, and her interest in Cicely's affairs was +one of the slender threads drawing her back to life. + +It had all happened when she was ill at the flat; after that letter from +the Geneva Red Cross which reported that in spite of exhaustive +enquiries among German hospitals, and in the prisoners' camps no trace +of Lieutenant Sarratt could be found. On the top of the letter, and the +intolerable despair into which it had plunged her, had come influenza. +There was no doubt--Nelly's recollection faced it candidly--that she +would have come off badly but for Cicely. Bridget had treated the +illness on the hardening plan, being at the moment slightly touched with +Christian Science. Nelly should 'think it away.' To stay in bed and give +in was folly. She meanwhile had found plenty to do in London, and was +away for long hours. In one of these absences, Cicely--having been +seized with a sudden hunger for the flesh-pots of 'town'--appeared at +the flat with her maid. She discovered Nelly Sarratt in bed, and so weak +as to be hardly capable of answering any question. Mrs. Simpson was +doing her best; but she gave an indignant account of Bridget's +behaviour, and Cicely at once took a strong line, both as a professional +nurse--of sorts--and as mistress of the flat. Bridget, grimly defensive, +was peremptorily put on one side, and Cicely devoted the night she was +to have spent in dancing to tending her half-conscious guest. In the +days that followed she fell, quite against her will, under the touching +charm of Nelly's refinement, humility and sweetness. Her own trenchant +and masterful temper was utterly melted, for the time, by Nelly's +helpless state, by the grief which threatened to kill her, and by a +gratefulness for any kindness shewn her, which seemed to Cicely almost +absurd. + +She fell in love--impetuously--with the little creature thus thrown upon +her pity. She sent for a trained nurse and their own doctor. She wired +for Hester Martin, and in forty-eight hours Bridget had been entirely +ousted, and Nelly's state had begun to shew signs of improvement. +Bridget took the matter stoically. 'I know nothing about nursing,' she +said, with composure. 'If you wish to look after my sister, by all means +look after her. Many thanks. I propose to go and stay near the British +Museum, and will look in here when I can.' + +So she departed, and Cicely stayed in London for three weeks until Nelly +was strong enough to go to Torquay. Then, reluctantly, she gave up her +charge to Bridget, she being urgently wanted at Carton, and Hester at +Rydal. Bridget reappeared on the scene with the same sangfroid as she +had left it. She had no intention of quarrelling with the Farrells +whatever they might do; and in an eminently satisfactory interview with +Sir William--quite unknown to Nelly--she allowed him to give her a +cheque which covered all their expenses at Torquay. + +Meanwhile Nelly had discovered Cicely's secret--which indeed was not +very secret. Captain Marsworth had appeared in London for the purpose of +attending his Medical Board, and called at the flat. Nelly was by that +time on the sofa, with Cicely keeping guard, and Nelly could sometimes +deaden her own consciousness for a little in watching the two. What +were they after? Marsworth's ethical enthusiasms and resentments, the +prophetic temper that was growing upon him in relation to the war, his +impatience of idleness and frivolity and 'slackness,' of all modes of +life that were not pitched in a key worthy of that continuous sacrifice +of England's youngest and noblest that was going on perpetually across +the Channel:--these traits in him made it very easy to understand why, +after years of philandering with Cicely Farrell, he was now, apparently, +alienated from her, and provoked by her. But then, why did he still +pursue her?--why did he still lay claim to the privileges of their old +intimacy, and why did Cicely allow him to do so? + +At last one evening, after a visit from Marsworth which had been one jar +from beginning to end, Cicely had suddenly dropped on a stool, beside +Nelly on the sofa. + +'What an intolerable man!' she said with crimson cheeks. 'Shall I tell +Simpson not to let him in again?' + +Nelly looked her surprise, for as yet there had been no confidence on +this subject between them. And then had come a torrent--Cicely walking +stormily up and down the room, and pouring out her soul. + +The result of which outpouring was that through all the anger and +denunciation, Nelly very plainly perceived that Cicely was a captured +creature, endeavouring to persuade herself that she was still free. She +loved Marsworth--and hated him. She could not make up her mind to give +up for his sake the 'lust of the eye and the pride of life,' as he +clearly would endeavour to make her give them up, the wild bursts of +gaiety and flirting for which she periodically rushed up to town, the +passion for dress, the reckless extravagance with which it pleased her +to shock him whenever they met. And he also--so it seemed to Nelly--was +torn by contradictory feelings. As soon as Cicely was within reach, he +could not keep away from her; and yet when confronted with her, and some +new vagary, invented probably to annoy him, though he might refrain +'even from good words,' his critical mouth and eye betrayed him, and set +the offender in a fury. + +However, it was the quarrels between these two strange lovers, if they +were lovers, that had made a friendship, warm and real--on Cicely's side +even impassioned--between Nelly and Cicely. For Cicely had at last found +someone--not of her own world--to whom she could talk in safety. Yet she +had treated the Sarratts cavalierly to begin with, just because they +were outsiders, and because 'Willy' was making such a fuss with them; +for she was almost as easily jealous in her brother's case as in +Marsworth's. But now Nelly's sad remoteness from ordinary life, her very +social insignificance, and the lack of any links between her and the +great Farrell kinship of relations and friends, made her company, and +her soft, listening ways specially welcome and soothing to Cicely's +excited mood. + +During the latter half of the winter they had corresponded, though +Cicely was the worst of letter-writers; and since Nelly and her sister +had been in Rydal again there had been constant meetings. Nelly's +confidences in return for Cicely's were not many nor frequent. The +effects of grief were to be seen in her aspect and movements, in her +most pathetic smile, in her increased dreaminess, and the inertia +against which she struggled in vain. Since May began, she had for the +first time put on black. Nobody had dared to speak to her about it, so +sharply did the black veil thrown back from the childish brow intensify +the impression that she made, as of something that a touch might break. +But the appearance of the widow's dress seemed to redouble the +tenderness with which every member of the little group of people among +whom she lived treated her--always excepting her sister. Nelly had in +vain protested to Farrell against the 'spoiling' of which she was the +object. 'Spoiled' she was, and it was clear both to Hester and Cicely, +after a time, that though she had the will, she had not the strength to +resist. + +Unless on one point. She had long since stopped all subsidies of money +from Farrell through Bridget, having at last discovered the plain facts +about them. Her letter of thanks to him for all he had done for her was +at once so touching and so determined, that he had not dared since to +cross her will. All that he now found it possible to urge was that the +sisters would allow him to lend them a vacant farmhouse of his, not far +from the Loughrigg Tarn cottage. Nelly had been so far unwilling; it was +clear that her heart clung to the Rydal lodgings. But Hester and Cicely +were both on Farrell's side. The situation of the farm was higher and +more bracing than Rydal; and both Cicely and Farrell cherished the +notion of making it a home for Nelly, until indeed-- + +At this point Farrell generally succeeded in putting a strong rein upon +his thoughts, as part of the promise he had made to Hester. But Cicely, +who was much cooler and more matter of fact than her brother, had long +since looked further ahead. Willy was in love, irrevocably in love with +Nelly Sarratt. That had been plain to her for some time. Before those +days in the flat, when she herself had fallen in love with Nelly, and +before the disappearance of George Sarratt, she had resented Willy's +absurd devotion to a little creature who, for all her beauty, seemed to +Cicely merely an insignificant member of the middle classes, with a +particularly impossible sister. And as to the notion that Mrs. Sarratt +might become at some distant period her brother's wife, Lady Farrell of +Carton, Cicely would have received it with scorn, and fought the +realisation of it tooth and nail. Yet now all the 'Farrell feeling,' the +Farrell pride, in this one instance, at any rate, was gone. Why? Cicely +didn't know. She supposed first because Nelly was such a dear creature, +and next because the war had made such a curious difference in things. +The old lines were being rubbed out. And Cicely, who had been in her day +as exclusively snobbish as any other well-born damsel, felt now that it +would not matter in the least if they remained rubbed out. Persons who +'did things' by land or sea; persons who invented things; persons with +ideas; persons who had the art of making others follow them into the +jaws of death;--these were going to be the aristocracy of the future. +Though the much abused aristocracy of the present hadn't done badly +either! + +So she was only concerned with the emotional aspects of her brother's +state. Was Nelly now convinced of her husband's death?--was that what +her black meant? And if she were convinced, and it were legally possible +for her to marry again and all that--what chance would there be for +Willy? Cicely was much puzzled by Nelly's relation to him. She had seen +many signs, pathetic signs, of a struggle on Nelly's side against +Farrell's influence; especially in the time immediately following her +first return to the north in March. She had done her best then, it +seemed to Cicely, to do without him and to turn to other interests and +occupations than those he set her, and she had failed; partly no doubt +owing to her physical weakness, which had put an end to many +projects,--that of doing week-end munition work for instance--but still +more, surely, to Farrell's own qualities. 'He is such a charmer with +women,' thought Cicely, half smiling; 'that's what it is.' + +By which she meant that he had the very rare gift of tenderness; of +being able to make a woman feel, that as a human being, quite apart from +any question of passion, she interested and touched him. It was just +sympathy, she supposed, the artistic magnetic quality in him, which made +him so attractive to women, and women so attractive to him. He was no +longer a young man in the strict sense; he was a man of forty, with the +prestige of great accomplishment, and a wide knowledge of life. It was +generally supposed that he had done with love-affairs, and women +instinctively felt it safe to allow him a personal freedom towards them, +which from other men would have offended them. He might pat a girl's +shoulder, or lay a playful grasp on a woman's arm, and nobody minded; it +was a sign of his liking, and most people wished to be liked by him. +However he never allowed himself any half-caress of the kind towards +Nelly Sarratt now; and once or twice, in the old days, before Sarratt's +disappearance, Cicely had fancied that she had seen Nelly check rather +sharply one of these demonstrations of Willy's which were so natural to +him, and in general so unconscious and innocent. + +And now he never attempted them. What did that mean? Simply--so Cicely +thought--that he was in love, and dared venture such things no longer. +But all the same there were plenty of devices open to him by which week +after week he surrounded Nelly with a network of care, which implied +that he was always thinking of her; which were in fact a caress, +breathing a subtle and restrained devotion, more appealing than anything +more open. And Cicely seemed to see Nelly yielding--unconsciously; +unconsciously 'spoilt,' and learning to depend on the 'spoiler.' Why did +Hester seem so anxious always about Farrell's influence with Nelly--so +ready to ward him off, if she could? For after all, thought Cicely, +easily, however long it might take for Nelly to recover her hold on +life, and to clear up the legal situation, there could be but one end of +it. Willy meant to marry this little woman; and in the long run no woman +would be able to resist him. + + * * * * * + +The friends set out to stroll homewards through the long May evening, +talking of the hideous Irish news--how incredible amid the young +splendour of the Westmorland May!--or of the progress of the war. + +Meanwhile Bridget Cookson was walking to meet them from the Rydal end of +the Lake. She was accompanied by a Manchester friend, a young doctor, +Howson by name, who had known the sisters before Nelly's marriage. He +had come to Ambleside in charge of a patient that morning, and was going +back on the morrow, and then to France. Bridget had stumbled on him in +Ambleside, and finding he had a free evening had invited him to come +and sup with them. And a vivid recollection of Nelly Cookson as a girl +had induced him to accept. He had been present indeed at the Sarratt +wedding, and could never forget Nelly as a bride, the jessamine wreath +above her dark eyes, and all the exquisite shapeliness of her slight +form, in the white childish dress of fine Indian muslin, which seemed to +him the prettiest bridal garment he had ever seen. And now--poor little +soul! + +'You think she still hopes?' + +Bridget shrugged her shoulders. + +'She says so. But she has put on mourning at last--a few weeks ago.' + +'People do turn up, you know,' said the doctor musing. 'There have been +some wonderful stories.' + +'They don't turn up now,' said Bridget positively--'now that the +enquiries are done properly.' + +'Oh, the Germans are pretty casual--and the hospital returns are far +from complete, I hear. However the probabilities, no doubt, are all on +the side of death.' + +'The War Office are certain of it,' said Bridget with emphasis. 'But +it's no good trying to persuade her. I don't try.' + +'No, why should you? Poor thing! Well, I'm off to X---- next week,' said +the young man. 'I shall keep my eyes open there, in case anything about +him should turn up.' + +Bridget frowned slightly, and her face flushed. + +'Should you know him again, if you saw him?' she asked, abruptly. + +'I think so,' said the doctor with slight hesitation, 'I remember him +very well at the wedding. Tall and slight?--not handsome exactly, but a +good-looking gentlemanly chap? Oh yes, I remember him. But of course, to +be alive now, if by some miraculous chance he were alive, and +not to have let you know--why he must have had some brain +mischief--paralysis--or----' + +'He isn't alive!' said Bridget impatiently. 'The War Office have no +doubts whatever.' + +Howson was rather surprised at the sudden acerbity of her tone. But his +momentary impression was immediately lost in the interest roused in him +by the emergence from the wood, in front, of Nelly and Cicely. He was a +warm-hearted fellow, himself just married, and the approach of the +black-veiled figure, which he had last seen in bridal white, touched him +like an incident in a play. + +Nelly recognised him from a short distance, and went a little pale. + +'Who is that with your sister?' asked Cicely. + +'It is a man we knew in Manchester,--Doctor Howson.' + +'Did you expect him?' + +'Oh no.' After a minute she added--'He was at our wedding. I haven't +seen him since.' + +Cicely was sorry for her. But when the walkers met, Nelly greeted the +young man very quietly. He himself was evidently moved. He held her +hand a little, and gave her a quick, scrutinising look. Then he moved on +beside her, and Cicely, in order to give Nelly the opportunity of +talking to him for which she evidently wished, was forced to carry off +Bridget, and endure her company patiently all the way home. + +When Nelly and the doctor arrived, following close on the two in front, +Cicely cried out that Nelly must go and lie down at once till supper. +She looked indeed a deplorable little wraith; and the doctor, casting, +again, a professional eye on her, backed up Cicely. + +Nelly smiled, resisted, and finally disappeared. + +'You'll have to take care of her,' said Howson to Bridget. 'She looks to +me as if she couldn't stand any strain.' + +'Well, she's not going to have any. This place is quiet enough! She's +been talking of munition-work, but of course we didn't let her.' + +Cicely took the young man aside and expounded her brother's plan of the +farm on the western side of Loughrigg. Howson asked questions about its +aspect, and general comfort, giving his approval in the end. + +'Oh, she'll pull through,' he said kindly, 'but she must go slow. This +kind of loss is harder to bear--physically--than death straight out. +I've promised her'--he turned to Bridget--'to make all the enquiries I +can. She asked me that at once.' + +After supper, just as Howson was departing, Farrell appeared, having +driven himself over through the long May evening, ostensibly to take +Cicely home, but really for the joy of an hour in Nelly's company. + +He sat beside her in the garden, after Howson's departure, reading to +her, by the lingering light, the poems of a great friend of his who had +been killed at Gallipoli. Nelly was knitting, but her needles were often +laid upon her knee, while she listened with all her mind, and sometimes +with tears in her eyes, that were hidden by the softly dropping dusk. +She said little, but what she did say came now from a greatly +intensified inner life, and a sharpened intelligence; while all the +time, the charm that belonged to her physical self, her voice, her +movements, was at work on Farrell, so that he felt his hour with her a +delight after his hard day's work. And she too rested in his presence, +and his friendship. It was not possible now for her to rebuff him, to +refuse his care. She had tried, tried honestly, as Cicely saw, to live +independently--to 'endure hardness.' And the attempt had broken down. +The strange, protesting feeling, too, that she was doing some wrong to +George by accepting it was passing away. She was George's, she would +always be his, to her dying day; but to live without being loved, to +tear herself from those who wished to love her--for that she had proved +too weak. She knew it, and was not unconscious of a certain moral +defeat; as she looked out upon all the strenuous and splendid things +that women were doing in the war. + + * * * * * + +Farrell and Cicely sped homeward through a night that was all but day. +Cicely scarcely spoke; she was thinking of Marsworth. Farrell had still +in his veins the sweetness of Nelly's presence. But there were other +thoughts too in his mind, the natural thoughts of an Englishman at war. +Once, over their heads, through the luminous northern sky, there passed +an aeroplane flying south-west high above the fells. Was it coming from +the North Sea, from the neighbourhood of that invincible Fleet, on which +all hung, by which all was sustained? He thought of the great ships, and +the men commanding them, as greyhounds straining in the leash. What +touch of fate would let them loose at last? + +The Carton hospital was now full of men fresh from the front. The +casualties were endless. A thousand a night often along the French +front--and yet no real advance. The far-flung battle was practically at +a stand-still. And beyond, the chaos in the Balkans, the Serbian +débacle! No--the world was full of lamentation, mourning and woe; and +who could tell how Armageddon would turn? His quick mind travelled +through all the alternative possibilities ahead, on fire for his +country. But always, after each digression through the problems of the +war, thought came back to the cottage at Rydal, and Nelly on the lawn, +her white throat emerging from the thin black dress, her hands clasped +on her lap, her eyes turned to him as he read. + +And all the time it was _just_ conceivable that Sarratt might still be +discovered. At that thought, the summer night darkened. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +In the summer of 1916, a dark and miserable June, all chilly showers and +lowering clouds, followed on the short-lived joys of May. But all +through it, still more through the early weeks of July, the spiritual +heaven for English hearts was brightening. In June, two months before +she was expected to move, Russia flung herself on the Eastern front of +the enemy. Brussiloff's victorious advance drove great wedges into the +German line, and the effect on that marvellous six months' battle, which +we foolishly call the Siege of Verdun, was soon to be seen. Hard pressed +they were, those heroes of Verdun!--how hard pressed no one in England +knew outside the War Office and the Cabinet, till the worst was over, +and the Crown Prince, 'with his dead and his shame,' had recoiled in +sullen defeat from the prey that need fear him no more. + +Then on the first of July, the British army, after a bombardment the +like of which had never yet been seen in war, leapt from its trenches on +the Somme front, and England held her breath while her new Armies proved +of what stuff they were made. In those great days 'there were no +stragglers--none!' said an eye-witness in amazement. The incredible +became everywhere the common and the achieved. Life was laid down as at +a festival. 'From your happy son'--wrote a boy, as a heading to his last +letter on this earth. + +And by the end of July the sun was ablaze again on the English fields +and harvests. Days of amazing beauty followed each other amid the +Westmorland fells; with nights of moonlight on sleeping lakes, and +murmuring becks; or nights of starlit dark, with that mysterious glow in +the north-west which in the northern valleys so often links the evening +with the dawn. + +How often through these nights Nelly Sarratt lay awake, in her new white +room in Mountain Ash Farm!--the broad low window beside her open to the +night, to that 'Venus's Looking Glass' of Loughrigg Tarn below her, and +to the great heights beyond, now dissolving under the moon-magic, now +rosy with dawn, and now wreathed in the floating cloud which crept in +light and silver along the purple of the crags. To have been lifted to +this height above valley and stream, had raised and strengthened her, +soul and body, as Farrell and Hester had hoped. Her soul, perhaps, +rather than her body; for she was still the frailest of creatures, +without visible ill, and yet awakening in every quick-eyed spectator the +same misgiving as in the Manchester doctor. But she was calmer, less +apparently absorbed in her own grief; though only, perhaps, the more +accessible to the world misery of the war. In these restless nights, +her remarkable visualising power, which had only thriven, it seemed, +upon the flagging of youth and health, carried her through a series of +waking dreams, almost always concerned with the war. Under the stimulus +of Farrell's intelligence, she had become a close student of the war. +She read much, and what she read, his living contact with men and +affairs--with that endless stream of wounded in particular, which passed +through the Carton hospital--and his graphic talk illumined for her. +Then in the night arose the train of visions; the trenches--always the +trenches; those hideous broken woods of the Somme front, where the +blasted soil has sucked the best life-blood of England; those +labyrinthine diggings and delvings in a tortured earth, made for the +Huntings of Death--'Death that lays man at his length'--for panting +pursuit, and breathless flight, and the last crashing horror of the +bomb, in some hell-darkness at the end of all:--these haunted her. Or +she saw visions of men swinging from peak to peak above fathomless +depths of ice and snow on the Italian front; climbing precipices where +the foot holds by miracle, and where not only men but guns must go; or +vanishing, whole lines of them, awfully forgotten in the winter snows, +to reappear a frozen and ghastly host, with the melting of the spring. + +And always, mingled with everything, in the tense night hours--that +slender khaki figure, tearing the leaf from his sketch-book, leaping +over the parados,--falling--in the No Man's Land. But, by day, the +obsession of it now often left her. + +It was impossible not to enjoy her new home. Farrell had taken an old +Westmorland farm, with its white-washed porch, its small-paned windows +outlined in white on the grey walls, its low raftered rooms, and with a +few washes of colour--pure blue, white, daffodil yellow--had made all +bright within, to match the bright spaces of air and light without. +There was some Westmorland oak, some low chairs, a sofa and a piano from +the old Manchester house, some etchings and drawings, hung on the plain +walls by Farrell himself, with the most fastidious care; and a few--a +very few things--from his own best stores, which Hester allowed him to +'house' with Nelly from time to time--picture, or pot, or tapestry. She +played watch-dog steadily, not resented by Farrell, and unsuspected by +Nelly. Her one aim was that the stream of Nelly's frail life should not +be muddied by any vile gossip; and she achieved it. The few neighbours +who had made acquaintance with 'little Mrs. Sarratt' had, all of them +been tacitly, nay eagerly willing, to take their cue from Hester. To be +vouched for by Hester Martin, the 'wise woman' and saint of a +country-side, was enough. It was understood that the poor little widow +had been commended to the care of William Farrell and his sister, by the +young husband whose gallant death was officially presumed by the War +Office. Of course, Mrs. Sarratt, poor child, believed that he was still +alive--that was so natural! But that hope would die down in time. And +then--anything might happen! + +Meanwhile, elderly husbands--the sole male inhabitants left in the +gentry houses of the district--who possessed any legal knowledge, +informed their wives that no one could legally presume the death of a +vanished husband, under seven years, unless indeed they happen to have a +Scotch domicile, in which case two years was enough. _Seven +years_!--preposterous!--in time of war, said the wives. To which the +husbands would easily reply that, in such cases as Mrs. Sarratt's, the +law indeed might be 'an ass,' but there were ways round it. Mrs. Sarratt +might re-marry, and no one could object, or would object. Only--if +Sarratt did rise from the dead, the second marriage would be _ipso +facto_ null and void. But as Sarratt was clearly dead, what did that +matter? + +So that the situation, though an observed one--for how could the Farrell +comings and goings, the Farrell courtesies and benefactions, possibly be +hid?--was watched only by friendly and discreet eyes, thanks always to +Hester. Most people liked William Farrell; even that stricter sect, who +before the war had regarded him as a pleasure loving dilettante, and had +been often scandalised by his careless levity in the matter of his +duties as a landlord and county magnate. 'Bill Farrell' had never indeed +evicted or dealt hardly with any mortal tenant. He had merely neglected +and ignored them; had cared not a brass farthing about the rates which +he or they, paid--why should he indeed, when he was so abominably rich +from other sources than land?--nothing about improving their cows, or +sheep or pigs; nothing about 'intensive culture,' or jam or poultry, or +any of the other fads with which the persons who don't farm plague the +persons who do; while the very mention of a public meeting, or any sort +of public duty, put him to instant flight. Yet even the faddists met him +with pleasure, and parted from him with regret. He took himself 'so +jolly lightly'; you couldn't expect him to take other people seriously. +Meanwhile, his genial cheery manner made him a general favourite, and +his splendid presence, combined with his possessions and his descent, +was universally accepted as a kind of Cumberland asset, to which other +counties could hardly lay claim. If he wanted the little widow, why +certainly, let him have her! It was magnificent what he had done for his +hospital; when nobody before the war had thought him capable of a stroke +of practical work. Real good fellow, Farrell! Let him go in and win. His +devotion, and poor Nelly's beauty, only infused a welcome local element +of romance into the ever-darkening scene of war. + + * * * * * + +The first anniversary of Sarratt's disappearance was over. Nelly had +gone through it quite alone. Bridget was in London, and Nelly had said +to Cicely--'Don't come for a few days--nor Sir William--please! I +shall be all right.' + +They obeyed her, and she spent her few days partly on the fells, and +partly in endless knitting and sewing for a war-workroom recently +started in her immediate neighbourhood. The emotion to which she +surrendered herself would soon reduce her to a dull vacancy; and then +she would sit passive, not forcing herself to think, alone in the old +raftered room, or in the bit of garden outside, with its phloxes and +golden rods; her small fingers working endlessly--till the wave of +feeling and memory returned upon her. Those few days were a kind of +'retreat,' during which she lived absorbed in the recollections of her +short, married life, and, above all, in which she tried piteously and +bravely to make clear to herself what she believed; what sort of faith +was in her for the present and the future. It often seemed to her that +during the year since George's death, her mind had been wrenched and +hammered into another shape. It had grown so much older, she scarcely +knew it herself. Doubts she had never known before had come to her; but +also, intermittently, a much keener faith. Oh, yes, she believed in God. +She must; not only because George had believed in Him, but also because +she, her very self, had been conscious, again and again, in the night +hours, or on the mountains, of ineffable upliftings and communings, of +flashes through the veil of things. And so there must be another world; +because the God she guessed at thus, with sudden adoring insight, could +not have made her George, only to destroy him; only to give her to him +for a month, and then strike him from her for ever. The books she learnt +to know through Farrell, belonging to that central modern literature, +which is so wholly sceptical that the 'great argument' itself has almost +lost interest for those who are producing it, often bewildered her, but +did not really affect her. Religion--a vague, but deeply-felt +religion--soothed and sheltered her. But she did not want to talk about +it. + +After these days were over, she emerged conscious of some radical +change. She seemed to have been walking with George 'on the other side,' +and to have left him there--for a while. She now really believed him +dead, and that she had got to live her life without him. This first full +and sincere admission of her loss tranquillised her. All the more reason +now that she should turn to the dear friendships that life still held, +should live in and for them, and follow where they led, through the +years before her. Farrell, Cicely, Hester--they stood between her +weakness--oh how conscious, how scornfully conscious, she was of +it!--and sheer desolation. Cicely, 'Willy,'--for somehow she and he had +slipped almost without knowing it into Christian names--had become to +her as brother and sister. And Hester too--so strong!--so kind!--was +part of her life; severe sometimes, but bracing. Nelly was conscious, +indeed, occasionally, that something in Hester disapproved something in +her. 'But it would be all right,' she thought, wearily, 'if only I were +stronger.' Did she mean physically or morally? The girl's thought did +not distinguish. + +'I believe you want me "hatched over again and hatched different"!' she +said one evening to Hester, as she laid her volume of 'Adam Bede' aside. + +'Do I ever say so?' + +'No--but--if you were me--you wouldn't stop here moping!' said Nelly, +with sudden passion. 'You'd strike out--do something!' + +'With these hands?' said Hester, raising one of them, and looking at it +pitifully. 'My dear--does Bridget feed you properly?' + +'I don't know. I never think about it. She settles it.' + +'Why do you let her settle it?' + +'She will!' cried Nelly, sitting upright in her chair, her eyes bright +and cheeks flushing, as though something in Hester's words accused her. +'I couldn't stop her!' + +'Well, but when she's away?' + +'Then Mrs. Rowe settles it,' said Nelly, half laughing. 'I never +enquire. What does it matter?' + +She put down her knitting, and her wide, sad eyes followed the clouds as +they covered the purple breast of the Langdales, which rose in +threatening, thunder light, beyond the steely tarn in front. Hester +watched her anxiously. How lovely was the brown head, with its short +curls enclosing the delicate oval of the face! But Nelly's lack of grip +on life, of any personal demand, of any healthy natural egotism, whether +towards Bridget, or anybody else, was very disquieting to Hester. In +view of the situation which the older woman saw steadily approaching, +how welcome would have been some signs of a greater fighting strength in +the girl's nature! + + * * * * * + +But Nelly had made two friends since the migration to the farm with whom +at any rate she laughed; and that, as Hester admitted, was something. + +One was a neighbouring farmer, an old man, with splendid eyes, under +dark bushy brows, fine ascetic features, grizzled hair, and a habit of +carrying a scythe over his shoulder which gave him the look of 'Old +Father Time,' out for the mowing of men. The other was the little son of +a neighbouring parson, an urchin of eight, who had succumbed to an +innocent passion for the pretty lady at the farm. + +One radiant October afternoon, Nelly carried out a chair and some +sketching things into the garden. But the scheme Farrell had suggested +to her, of making a profession of her drawing, had not come to much. +Whether it was the dying down of hope, and therewith of physical energy, +or whether she had been brought up sharp against the limits of her small +and graceful talent, and comparing herself with Farrell, thought it no +use to go on--in any case, she had lately given it up, except as an +amusement. But there are days when the humblest artist feels the +creative stir; and on this particular afternoon there were colours and +lights abroad on the fells, now dyed red with withering fern, and +overtopped by sunny cloud, that could not be resisted. She put away the +splints she was covering, and spread out her easel. + +And presently, through every bruised and tired sense, as she worked and +worked, the 'Eternal Fountain of that Heavenly Beauty' distilled His +constant balm. She worked on, soothed and happy. + +In a few minutes there was a sound at the gate. A child looked in--black +tumbled hair, dark eyes, a plain but most engaging countenance. + +'I'm tomin in,' he announced, and without any more ado, came in. Nelly +held out a hand and kissed him. + +'You must be very good.' + +'I is good,' said the child, radiantly. + +Nelly spread a rug for him to lie on, and provided him with a piece of +paper, some coloured chalks and a piece of mill board. He turned over on +his front and plunged into drawing-- + +Silence--till Nelly asked-- + +'What are you drawing, Tommy?' + +'Haggans and Hoons,' said a dreamy voice, the voice of one absorbed. + +'I forget'--said Nelly gravely--'which are the good ones?' + +'The Hoons are good. The Haggans are awfully wicked!' said the child, +slashing away at his drawing with bold vindictive strokes. + +'Are you drawing a Haggan, Tommy?' + +'Yes.' + +He held up a monster, half griffin, half crocodile, for her to see, and +she heartily admired it. + +'Where do the Haggans live, Tommy?' + +'In Jupe,' said the child, again drawing busily. + +'You mean Jupiter?' + +'I _don't_!' said Tommy reproachfully, 'I said Jupe, and I mean Jupe. +Perhaps'--he conceded, courteously--'I may have got the idea from that +other place. But it's quite different. You do believe it's quite +different--don't you?' + +'Certainly,' said Nelly. + +'I'm glad of that--because--well, because I can't be friends with people +that say it isn't different. You do see that, don't you?' + +Nelly assured him she perfectly understood, and then Tommy rolled over +on his back, and staring at the sky, began to talk in mysterious tones +of 'Jupe,' and the beings that lived in it, Haggans, and Hoons, lions +and bears, and white mice. His voice grew dreamier and dreamier. Nelly +thought he was asleep, and she suddenly found herself looking at the +little figure on the grass with a passionate hunger. If such a living +creature belonged to her--to call her its very own--to cling to her with +its dear chubby hands! + +She bent forward, her eyes wet, above the unconscious Tommy. But a step +on the road startled her, and raising her head she saw 'Old Father +Time,' with scythe on shoulder, leaning on the little gate which led +from the strip of garden to the road, and looking at her with the +expression which implied a sarcastic view of things in general, and +especially of 'gentlefolk.' But he was favourably inclined to Mrs. +Sarratt, and when Nelly invited him in, he obeyed her, and grounding his +scythe, as though it had been a gun, he stood leaning upon it, +indulgently listening while she congratulated him on a strange incident +which, as she knew from Hester, had lately occurred to him. + +A fortnight before, the old man had received a letter from the captain +of his son's company in France sympathetically announcing to him the +death in hospital of his eldest son, from severe wounds received in a +raid, and assuring him he might feel complete confidence 'that +everything that could be done for your poor boy has been done.' + +The news had brought woe to the cottage where the old man and his wife +lived alone, since the fledging of their sturdy brood, under a spur of +Loughrigg. The wife, being now a feeble body, had taken to her bed under +the shock of grief; the old man had gone to his work as usual, 'nobbut a +bit queerer in his wits,' according to the farmer who employed him. Then +after three days came a hurried letter of apology from the captain, and +a letter from the chaplain, to say there had been a most deplorable +mistake, and 'your son, I am glad to say, was only slightly wounded, +and is doing well!' + +Under so much contradictory emotion, old Backhouse's balance had wavered +a good deal. He received Nelly's remarks with a furtive smile, as though +he were only waiting for her to have done, and when they ceased, he drew +a letter slowly from his pocket. + +'D'ye see that, Mum?' + +Nelly nodded. + +'I'se juist gotten it from t' Post Office. They woant gie ye noothin' +till it's forced oot on 'em. But I goa regular, an to-day owd +Jacob--'at's him as keps t' Post Office--handed it ower. It's from +Donald, sure enoof.' + +He held it up triumphantly. Nelly's heart leapt--and sank. How often in +the first months of her grief had she seen--in visions--that blessed +symbolic letter held up by some ministering hand!--only to fall from the +ecstasy of the dream into blacker depths of pain. + +'Oh, Mr. Backhouse, I'm so glad!' was all she could find to say. But her +sweet trembling face spoke for her. After a pause, she added--'Does he +write with his own hand?' + +'You mun see for yorsel'.' He held it out to her. She looked at it +mystified. + +'But it's not opened!' + +'I hadna juist me spectacles,' said Father Time, cautiously. 'Mebbee +yo'll read it to me.' + +'But it's to his mother!' cried Nelly. 'I can't open your wife's +letter!' + +'You needn't trooble aboot that. You read it, Mum. There'll be noothin' +in it.' + +He made her read it. There was nothing in it. It was just a nice letter +from a good boy, saying that he had been knocked over in 'a bit of a +scrap,' but was nearly all right, and hoped his father and mother were +well, 'as it leaves me at present.' But when it was done, Father Time +took off his hat, bent his grey head, and solemnly thanked his God, in +broad Westmorland. Nelly's eyes swam, as she too bowed the head, +thinking of another who would never come back; and Tommy, thumb in +mouth, leant against her, listening attentively. + +At the end of the thanksgiving however, Backhouse raised his head +briskly. + +'Not that I iver believed that foolish yoong mon as wrote me that Dick +wor dead,' he said, contemptuously. 'Bit it's as weel to git things +clear.' + +Nelly heartily agreed, adding-- + +'I may be going to London next week, Mr. Backhouse. You say your son +will be in the London Hospital. Shall I go and see him?' + +Backhouse looked at her cautiously. + +'I doan't know, Mum. His moother will be goin', likely.' + +'Oh, I don't want to intrude, Mr. Backhouse. But if she doesn't go?' + +'Well, Mum; I will say you've a pleasant coontenance, though yo're not +juist sich a thrivin' body as a'd like to see yer. But theer's mony +people as du more harm nor good by goin' to sit wi' sick foak.' + +Nelly meekly admitted it; and then she suggested that she might be the +bearer of anything Mrs. Backhouse would like to send her son--clothes, +for instance? The old man thawed rapidly, and the three, Nelly, Tommy, +and Father Time, were soon sincerely enjoying each other's society, when +a woman in a grey tweed costume, and black sailor hat, arrived at the +top of a little hill in the road outside the garden, from which the farm +and its surroundings could be seen. + +At the sight of the group in front of the farm, she came to an abrupt +pause, and hidden from them by a projecting corner of wall she surveyed +the scene--Nelly, with Tommy on her knee, and the old labourer who had +just shouldered his scythe again, and was about to go on his way. + +It was Bridget Cookson, who had been to Kendal for the day, and had +walked over from Grasmere, where the char-à-banc, alias the 'Yellow +Peril,' had deposited her. She had passed the Post Office on her way, +and had brought thence a letter which she held in her hand. Her face was +pale and excited. She stood thinking; her eyes on Nelly, her lips moving +as though she were rehearsing some speech or argument. + +Then when she had watched old Backkhouse make his farewell, and turn +towards the gate, she hastily opened a black silk bag hanging from her +wrist, and thrust the letter into it. + +After which she walked on, meeting the old man in the lane, and run into +by Tommy, who, head foremost, was rushing home to shew his glorious +Haggan to his 'mummy.' + +Nelly's face at sight of her sister stiffened insensibly. + +'Aren't you very tired, Bridget? Have you walked all the way? Yes, you +_do_ look tired! Have you had tea?' + +'Yes, at Windermere.' + +Bridget cleared the chair on which Nelly had placed her paint-box, and +sat down. She was silent a little and then said abruptly-- + +'It's a horrid bore, I shall have to go to London again.' + +'Again?' Nelly's look of surprise was natural. Bridget had returned from +another long stay in the Bloomsbury boarding-house early in October, and +it was now only the middle of the month. But Bridget's doings were +always a great mystery to Nelly. She was translating something from the +Spanish--that was all Nelly knew--and also, that when an offer had been +made to her through a friend, of some translating work for the Foreign +Office, she had angrily refused it. She would not, she said, be a slave +to any public office. + +'Won't it be awfully expensive?' said Nelly after a pause, as Bridget +did not answer. The younger sister was putting her painting things +away, and making ready to go in. For though the day had been wonderfully +warm for October, the sun had just set over Bowfell, and the air had +grown suddenly chilly. + +'Well, I can't help it,' said Bridget, rather roughly. 'I shall have to +go.' + +Something in her voice made Nelly look at her. + +'I say you _are_ tired! Come in and lie down a little. That walk from +Grasmere's too much for you!' + +Bridget submitted with most unusual docility. + +The sisters entered the house together. + +'I'll go upstairs for a little,' said Bridget. 'I shall be all right by +supper.' Then, as she slowly mounted the stairs, a rather gaunt and +dragged figure in her dress of grey alpaca, she turned to say-- + +'I met Sir William on the road just now. He passed me in the car, and +waved his hand. He called out something--I couldn't hear it.' + +'Perhaps to say he would come to supper,' said Nelly, her face +brightening. 'I'll go and see what there is.' + +Bridget went upstairs. Her small raftered room was invaded by the last +stormy light of the autumn evening. The open casement window admitted a +cold wind. Bridget shut it, with a shiver. But instead of lying down, +she took a chair by the window, absently removed her hat, and sat there +thinking. The coppery light from the west illumined her face with its +strong discontented lines, and her hands, which were large, but white +and shapely--a source indeed of personal pride to their owner. + +Presently, in the midst of her reverie, she heard a step outside, and +saw Sir William Farrell approaching the gate. Nelly, wrapped in a white +shawl, was still strolling about the garden, and Bridget watched their +meeting--Nelly's soft and smiling welcome, and Farrell's eagerness, his +evident joy in finding her alone. + +'And she just wilfully blinds herself!' thought Bridget +contemptuously--'talks about his being a brother to her, and that sort +of nonsense. He's in love with her!--of course he's in love with her. +And as for Nelly--she's not in love with him. But she's getting used to +him; she depends on him. When he's not there she misses him. She's +awfully glad to see him when he comes. Perhaps, it'll take a month or +two. I give it a month or two--perhaps six months--perhaps a year. And +then she'll marry him--and--' + +Here her thoughts became rather more vague and confused. They were +compounded of a fierce impatience with the war, and of certain urgent +wishes and ambitions, which had taken possession of a strong and +unscrupulous character. She wanted to travel. She wanted to see the +world, and not to be bothered by having to think of money. Contact with +very rich people, like the Farrells, and the constant spectacle of what +an added range and power is given to the human will by money, had +turned the dull discontent of her youth into an active fever of desire. +She had no illusions about herself at all. She was already a plain and +unattractive old maid. Nobody would want to marry her; and she did not +want to marry anybody. But she wanted to _do_ things and to _see_ +things, when the hateful war was over. She was full of curiosities about +life and the world, that were rather masculine than feminine. Her +education, though it was still patchy and shallow, had been advancing +since Nelly's marriage, and her intelligence was hungry. The +satisfaction of it seemed too to promise her the only real pleasures to +which she could look forward in life. On the wall of her bedroom were +hanging photographs of Rome, Athens, the East. She dreamt of a wandering +existence; she felt that she would be insatiable of movement, of +experience, if the chance were given her. + +But how could one travel, or buy books, or make new acquaintances, +without money?--something more at any rate than the pittance on which +she and Nelly subsisted. + +What was it Sir William was supposed to have, by way of income?--thirty +thousand a year? Well, he wouldn't always be spending it on his +hospital, and War income tax, and all the other horrible burdens of the +time. If Nelly married him, she would have an ample margin to play with; +and to do Nelly justice, she was always open-handed, always ready to +give away. She would hand over her own small portion to her sister, and +add something to it. With six or seven hundred a year, Bridget would be +mistress of her own fate, and of the future. Often, lately, in waking +moments of the night, she had felt a sudden glow of exultation, thinking +what she could do with such a sum. The world seemed to open out on all +sides--offering her new excitements, new paths to tread in. She wanted +no companion, to hamper her with differing tastes and wishes. She would +be quite sufficient to herself. + +The garden outside grew dark. She heard Farrell say 'It's too cold for +you--you must come in,' and she watched Nelly enter the house in front +of him--turning her head back to answer something he said to her. Even +through the dusk Bridget was conscious of her sister's beauty. She did +not envy it in the least. It was Nelly's capital--Nelly's opportunity. +Let her use it for them both. Bridget would be well satisfied to gather +up the crumbs from her rich sister's table. + +Then from the dream, she came back with chill and desperation--to +reality. The letter in her pocket--the journey before her--she pondered +alternatives. What was she to do in this case--or in that? Everything +might be at stake--everything was at stake--her life and Nelly's-- + +The voices from the parlour below came up to her. She heard the +crackling of a newly lighted fire--Farrell reading aloud--and Nelly's +gentle laughter. She pictured the scene; the two on either side of the +fire, with Nelly's mourning, her plain widow's dress, as the symbol--in +Nelly's eyes--of what divided her from Farrell, or any other suitor, and +made it possible to be his friend without fear. Bridget knew that Nelly +so regarded it. But that of course was just Nelly's foolish way of +looking at things. It was only a question of time. + +And meanwhile the widow's dress had quite other meanings for Bridget. +She pondered long in the dark, till the supper bell rang. + +At supper, her silence embarrassed and infected her companions, and +Farrell, finding it impossible to get another tête-à-tête with Nelly, +took his leave early. He must be up almost with the dawn so as to get to +Carton by nine o'clock. + + * * * * * + +Out of a stormy heaven the moon was breaking as he walked back to his +cottage. The solitude of the mountain ways, the freshness of the +rain-washed air, and the sweetness of his hour with Nelly, after the +bustle of the week, the arrivals and departures, the endless business, +of a great hospital:--he was conscious of them all, intensely conscious, +as parts of a single, delightful whole to which he had looked forward +for days. And yet he was restless and far from happy. He wandered about +the mountain roads for a long time--watching the moon as it rose above +the sharp steep of Loughrigg and sent long streamers of light down the +Elterwater valley, and up the great knees of the Pikes. The owls hooted +in the oak-woods, and the sound of water--the Brathay rushing over the +Skelwith rocks, and all the little becks in fell and field, near and +far--murmured through the night air, and made earth-music to the fells. +Farrell had much of the poet in him; and the mountains and their life +were dear to him. But he was rapidly passing into the stage when a man +over-mastered by his personal desires is no longer open to the soothing +of nature. He had recently had a long and confidential talk with his +lawyer at Carlisle, who was also his friend, and had informed himself +minutely about the state of the law. Seven years!--unless, of her own +free will, she took the infinitesimal risk of marriage before the period +was up. + +But he despaired of her doing any such thing. He recognised fully that +the intimacy she allowed him, her sweet openness and confidingness, were +all conditioned by what she regarded as the fixed points in her life; by +her widowhood, legal and spiritual, and by her tacit reliance on his +recognition of the fact that she was set apart, bound as other widows +were not bound, protected by the very mystery of Sarratt's fate, from +any thought of re-marriage. + +And he!--all the time the strength of a man's maturest passion was +mounting in his veins. And with it a foreboding--coming he knew not +whence--like the sudden shadow that, as he looked, blotted out the +moonlight on the shining bends and loops of the Brathay, where it +wandered through the Elterwater fields. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Bridget Cookson slowly signed her name to the letter she had been +writing in the drawing-room of the boarding-house where she was +accustomed to stay during her visits to town. Then she read the letter +through-- + +'I can't get back till the middle or end of next week at least. There's +been a great deal to do, of one kind or another. And I'm going down to +Woking to-morrow to spend the week-end with a girl I met here who's +knocked up in munition-work. Don't expect me till you see me. But I +daresay I shan't be later than Friday.' + +Bridget Cookson had never yet arrived at telling falsehoods for the mere +pleasure of it. On the whole she preferred not to tell them. But she was +well aware that her letter to Nelly contained a good many, both +expressed and implied. + +Well, that couldn't be helped. She put up her letter, and then proceeded +to look carefully through the contents of her handbag. Yes, her passport +was all right, and her purse with its supply of notes. Also the letter +that she was to present to the Base Commandant, or the Red Cross +representative at the port of landing. The latter had been left open for +her to read. It was signed 'Ernest Howson, M.D.,' and asked that Miss +Bridget Cookson might be sent forward to No. 102, General Hospital, X +Camp, France, as quickly as possible. + +There was also another letter addressed to herself in the same +handwriting. She opened it and glanced through it-- + +'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I think I have made everything as easy for you as I +can on this side. You won't have any difficulty. I'm awfully glad you're +coming. I myself am much puzzled, and don't know what to think. Anyway I +am quite clear that my right course was to communicate with +you--_first._ Everything will depend on what you say.' + +The following afternoon, Bridget found herself, with a large party of +V.A.D.'s, and other persons connected with the Red Cross, on board a +Channel steamer. The day was grey and cold, and Bridget having tied on +her life-belt, and wrapped herself in her thickest cloak, found a seat +in the shelter of the deck cabins whence the choppy sea, the destroyer +hovering round them, and presently the coast of France were visible. A +secret excitement filled her. What was she going to see? and what was +she going to do? All round her too were the suggestions of war, +commonplace and familiar by now to half the nation, but not to Bridget +who had done her best to forget the war. The steamer deck was crowded +with officers returning from leave who were walking up and down, all of +them in life-belts, chatting and smoking. All eyes were watchful of the +sea, and the destroyer; and the latest submarine gossip passed from +mouth to mouth. The V.A.D.'s with a few army nurses, kept each other +company on the stern deck. The mild sea gave no one any excuse for +discomfort, and the pleasant-faced rosy girls in their becoming +uniforms, laughed and gossiped with each other, though not without a +good many side glances towards the khaki figures pacing the deck, many +of them specimens of English youth at its best. + +Bridget however took little notice of them. She was becoming more and +more absorbed in her own problem. She had not in truth made up her mind +how to deal with it, and she admitted reluctantly that she would have to +be guided by circumstance. Midway across, when the French coast and its +lighthouses were well in view, she took out the same letter which she +had received two days before at the Grasmere post-office, and again read +it through. + +'X Camp, 102, General Hospital. + + +'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I am writing to _you_, in the first instance +instead of to Mrs. Sarratt, because I have a vivid remembrance of what +seemed to me your sister's frail physical state, when I saw you last May +at Rydal. I hope she is much stronger, but I don't want to risk what, if +it ended in disappointment, might only be a terrible strain upon her to +no purpose--so I am preparing the way by writing to you. + +'The fact is I want you to come over to France--at once. Can you get +away, without alarming your sister, or letting her, really, know +anything about it? It is the merest, barest chance, but I think there is +just a chance, that a man who is now in hospital here _may_ be poor +George Sarratt--only don't build upon it yet, _please_. The case was +sent on here from one of the hospitals near the Belgian frontier about a +month ago, in order that a famous nerve-specialist, who has joined us +here for a time, might give his opinion on it. It is a most +extraordinary story. I understand from the surgeon who wrote to our +Commandant, that one night, about three months ago, two men, in German +uniforms, were observed from the British front-line trench, creeping +over the No Man's Land lying between the lines at a point somewhere east +of Dixmude. One man, who threw up his hands, was dragging the other, who +seemed wounded. It was thought that they were deserters, and a couple of +men were sent out to bring them in. Just as they were being helped into +our trench, however, one of them was hit by an enemy sniper and mortally +wounded. Then it was discovered that they were not Germans at all. The +man who had been hit said a few incoherent things about his wife and +children in the Walloon patois as he lay in the trench, and trying to +point to his companion, uttered the one word "Anglais"--that, everyone +swears to--and died. No papers were found on either of them, and when +the other man was questioned, he merely shook his head, with a vacant +look. Various tests were applied to him, but it was soon clear, both +that he was dumb--and deaf--from nerve shock, probably--and that he was +in a terrible physical state. He had been severely wounded--apparently +many months before--in the shoulder and thigh. The wounds had evidently +been shockingly neglected, and were still septic. The surgeon who +examined him thought that what with exposure, lack of food, and his +injuries, it was hardly probable he would live more than a few weeks. +However, he has lingered till now, and the specialist I spoke of has +just seen him. + +'As to identification marks there were none. But you'll hear all about +that when you come. All I can say is that, as soon as they got the man +into hospital, the nurses and surgeons became convinced that he _was_ +English, and that in addition to his wounds, it was a case of severe +shell-shock--acute and long-continued neurasthenia properly +speaking,--loss of memory, and all the rest of it. + +'Of course the chances of this poor fellow being George Sarratt are +infinitesimal--I must warn you as to that. How account for the interval +between September 1915 and June 1916--for his dress, his companion--for +their getting through the German lines? + +'However, directly I set eyes on this man, which was the week after I +arrived here, I began to feel puzzled about him. He reminded me of +someone--but of whom I couldn't remember. Then one afternoon it suddenly +flashed upon me--and for the moment I felt almost sure that I was +looking at George Sarratt. Then, of course, I began to doubt again. I +have tried--under the advice of the specialist I spoke of--all kinds of +devices for getting into some kind of communication with him. Sometimes +the veil between him and those about him seems to thin a little, and one +makes attempts--hypnotism, suggestion, and so forth. But so far, quite +in vain. He has, however, one peculiarity which I may mention. His hands +are long and rather powerful. But the little fingers are both +crooked--markedly so. I wonder if you ever noticed Sarratt's hands? +However, I won't write more now. You will understand, I am sure, that I +shouldn't urge you to come, unless I thought it seriously worth your +while. On the other hand, I cannot bear to excite hopes which may--which +probably will--come to nothing. All I can feel certain of is that it is +my duty to write, and I expect that you will feel that it is your duty +to come. + +'I send you the address of a man at the War Office--high up in the +R.A.M.C.--to whom I have already written. He will, I am sure, do all he +can to help you get out quickly. Whoever he is, the poor fellow here is +very ill.' + + * * * * * + +The steamer glided up the dock of the French harbour. The dusk had +fallen, but Bridget was conscious of a misty town dimly sprinkled with +lights, and crowned with a domed church; of chalk downs, white and +ghostly, to right and left; and close by, of quays crowded with +soldiers, motors, and officials. Carrying her small suit-case, she +emerged upon the quay, and almost immediately was accosted by the +official of the Red Cross who had been told off to look after her. + +'Let me carry your suit-case. There is a motor here, which will take you +to X----. There will be two nurses going with you.' + +Up the long hill leading southwards out of the town, sped the motor, +stopping once to show its pass to the sentries--khaki and grey, on +either side of the road, and so on into the open country, where an +autumn mist lay over the uplands, beneath a faintly starlit sky. Soon it +was quite dark. Bridget listened vaguely to the half-whispered talk of +the nurses opposite, who were young probationers going back to work +after a holiday, full of spirits and merry gossip about 'Matron' and +'Sister,' and their favourite surgeons. Bridget was quite silent. +Everything was strange and dreamlike. Yet she was sharply conscious that +she was nearing--perhaps--some great experience, some act--some +decision--which she would have to make for herself, with no one to +advise her. Well, she had never been a great hand at asking advice. +People must decide things for themselves. + +She wondered whether they would let her see 'the man' that same night. +Hardly--unless he were worse--in danger. Otherwise, they would be sure +to think it better for her to see him first in daylight. She too would +be glad to have a night's rest before the interview. She had a curiously +bruised and battered feeling, as of someone who had been going through +an evil experience. + +Pale stretches of what seemed like water to the right, and across it a +lighthouse. And now to the left, a sudden spectacle of lines of light in +a great semicircle radiating up the side of a hill. + +The nurses exclaimed-- + +'There's the Camp! Isn't it pretty at night?' + +The officer sitting in front beside the driver turned to ask-- + +'Where shall I put you down?' + +'Number----' said both the maidens in concert. The elderly major in +khaki--who in peace-time was the leading doctor of a Shropshire country +town--could not help smiling at the two lassies, and their bright looks. + +'You don't seem particularly sorry to come back!' he said. + +'Oh, we're tired of holidays,' said the taller of the two, with a laugh. +'People at home think they're _so_ busy, and---' + +'You think they're doing nothing?' + +'Well, it don't seem much, when you've been out here!' said the girl +more gravely--'and when you know what there is to do!' + +'Aye, aye,' said the man in front. 'We could do with hundreds more of +your sort. Hope you preached to your friends.' + +'We did!' said both, each with the same young steady voice. + +'Here we are--Stop, please.' + +For the motor had turned aside to climb the hill into the semicircle. On +all sides now were rows of low buildings--hospital huts--hospital +marquees--stores--canteens. Close to the motor, as it came to a +stand-still, the door of a great marquee stood open, and Bridget could +see within, a lighted hospital ward, with rows of beds, men in scarlet +bed-jackets, sitting or lying on them--flowers--nurses moving about. The +scene was like some bright and delicate illumination on the dark. + +'I shall have to take you a bit further on,' said the major to Bridget, +as the two young nurses waved farewell. 'We've got a room in the hotel +for you. And Dr. Howson will come for you in the morning. He thought +that would be more satisfactory both for you and the patient than that +you should go to the hospital to-night.' + +Bridget acquiesced, with a strong sense of relief. And presently the +camp and its lights were all left behind again, and the motor was +rushing on, first through a dark town, and then through woods--pine +woods--as far as the faint remaining light enabled her to see, till dim +shapes of houses, and scattered lamps began again to appear, and the +motor drew up. + +'Well, you'll find a bed here, and some food,' said the major as he +handed her out. 'Can't promise much. It's a funny little place, but +they don't look after you badly.' + +They entered one of the small seaside hotels of the cheaper sort which +abound in French watering-places, where the walls of the tiny rooms seem +to be made of brown paper, and everyone is living in their neighbour's +pocket. But a pleasant young woman came forward to take Bridget's bag. + +'Mademoiselle Cook--Cookson?' she said interrogatively. 'I have a letter +for Mademoiselle. Du médecin,' she added, addressing the major. + +'Ah?' That gentleman put down Bridget's bag in the little hall, and +stood attentive. Bridget opened the letter--a very few words--and read +it with an exclamation. + + 'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I am awfully sorry not + to meet you to-night, and at the hospital to-morrow. + But I am sent for to Bailleul. My only brother + has been terribly wounded--they think fatally--in a + bombing attack last night. I am going up at once--there + is no help for it. One of my colleagues, Dr. + Vincent, will take you to the hospital and will tell me + your opinion. In haste.--Yours sincerely, + + + 'ERNEST HOWSON.' + +'H'm, a great pity!' said the major, as she handed the note to him. +'Howson has taken a tremendous interest in the case. But Vincent is next +best. Not the same thing perhaps--but still--Of course the whole +medical staff here has been interested in it. It has some extraordinary +features. You I think have had a brother-in-law "missing" for some +time?' + +He had piloted her into the bare _salle à manger_, where two young +officers, with a party of newly-arrived V.A.D.'s were having dinner, and +where through an open window came in the dull sound of waves breaking on +a sandy shore. + +'My brother-in-law has been missing since the battle of Loos,' said +Bridget--'more than a year. We none of us believe that he can be alive. +But of course when Dr. Howson wrote to me, I came at once.' + +'Has he a wife?' + +'Yes, but she is very delicate. That is why Dr. Howson wrote to me. If +there were any chance--of course we must send for her. But I shall +know--I shall know at once.' + +'I suppose you will--yes, I suppose you will,' mused the major. 'Though +of course a man is terribly aged by such an experience. He's +English--that we're certain of. He often seems to understand--half +understand--a written phrase or word in English. And he is certainly a +man of refinement. All his personal ways--all that is instinctive and +automatic--the subliminal consciousness, so to speak--seems to be that +of a gentleman. But it is impossible to get any response out of him, for +anything connected with the war. And yet we doubt whether there is any +actual brain lesion. So far it seems to be severe functional +disturbance--which is neurasthenia--aggravated by his wounds and general +state. But the condition is getting worse steadily. It is very sad, and +very touching. However, you will get it all out of Vincent. You must +have some dinner first. I wish you a good-night.' + +And the good man, so stout and broad-shouldered that he seemed to be +bursting out of his khaki, hurried away. The lady seemed to him +curiously hard and silent--'a forbidding sort of party.' But then he +himself was a person of sentiment, expressing all the expected feelings +in the right places, and with perfect sincerity. + +Bridget took her modest dinner, and then sat by the window, looking out +over a lonely expanse of sand, towards a moonlit sea. To right and left +were patches of pine wood, and odd little seaside villas, with fantastic +turrets and balconies. A few figures passed--nurses in white head +dresses, and men in khaki. Bridget understood after talking to the +little _patronne_, that the name of the place was Paris à la Mer, that +there was a famous golf course near, and that large building, with a +painted front to the right, was once the Casino, and now a hospital for +officers. + +It was all like a stage scene, the sea, the queer little houses, the +moonlight, the passing figures. Only the lights were so few and dim, and +there was no music. + +'Miss Cookson?' + +Bridget turned, to see a tall young surgeon in khaki, tired, pale and +dusty, who looked at her with a frown of worry, a man evidently +over-driven, and with hardly any mind to give to this extra task that +had been put upon him. + +'I'm sorry to be late--but we've had an awful rush to-day,' he said, as +he perfunctorily shook hands. 'There was some big fighting on the Somme, +the night before last, and the casualty trains have been coming in all +day. I'm only able to get away for five minutes. + +'Well now, Miss Cookson'--he sat down opposite her, and tried to get his +thoughts into business shape--'first let me tell you it's a great +misfortune for you that Howson's had to go off. I know something about +the case--but not nearly as much as he knows. First of all--how old was +your brother-in-law?' + +'About twenty-seven--I don't know precisely.' + +'H'm. Well of course this man looks much older than that--but the +question is what's he been through? Was Lieutenant Sarratt fair or +dark?' + +'Rather dark. He had brown hair.' + +'Eyes?' + +'I can't remember precisely,' said Bridget, after a moment. 'I don't +notice the colour of people's eyes. But I'm sure they were some kind of +brown.' + +'This man's are a greenish grey. Can you recollect anything peculiar +about Lieutenant Sarratt's hands?' + +Again Bridget paused for a second or two, and then said--'I can't +remember anything at all peculiar about them.' + +The surgeon looked at her closely, and was struck with the wooden +irresponsiveness of the face, which was however rather handsome, he +thought, than otherwise. No doubt, she was anxious to speak +deliberately, when so much might depend on her evidence and her opinion. +But he had never seen any countenance more difficult to read. + +'Perhaps you're not a close observer of such things?' + +'No, I don't think I am.' + +'H'm--that's rather a pity. A great deal may turn on them, in this +case.' + +Then the face before him woke up a little. + +'But I am quite sure I should know my brother-in-law again, under any +circumstances,' said Bridget, with emphasis. + +'Ah, don't be so sure! Privation and illness change people terribly. And +this poor fellow has _suffered_!'--he shrugged his shoulders +expressively. 'Well, you will see him to-morrow. There is of course no +external evidence to help us whatever. The unlucky accident that the +Englishman's companion--who was clearly a Belgian peasant, disguised--of +that there is no doubt--was shot through the lungs at the very moment +that the two men reached the British line, has wiped out all possible +means of identification--unless, of course, the man himself can be +recognised by someone who knew him. We have had at least a dozen +parties--relations of "missing" men--much more recent cases--over here +already--to no purpose. There is really no clue, unless'--the speaker +rose with a tired smile--'unless you can supply one, when you see him. +But I am sorry about the fingers. That has always seemed to me a +possible clue. To-morrow then, at eleven?' + +Bridget interrupted. + +'It is surely most unlikely that my brother-in-law could have survived +all this time? If he had been a prisoner, we should have heard of him, +long ago. Where could he have been?' + +The young man shrugged his shoulders. + +'There have been a few cases, you know--of escaped prisoners--evading +capture for a long time--and finally crossing the line. But of course it +_is_ very unlikely--most unlikely. Well, to-morrow?' He bowed and +departed. + +Bridget made her way to her small carpetless room, and sat for long with +a shawl round her at the open window. She could imagine the farm in this +moonlight. It was Saturday. Very likely both Cicely and Sir William were +at the cottage. She seemed to see Nelly, with the white shawl over her +dark head, saying good-night to them at the farm-gate. That meant that +it was all going forward. Some day,--and soon,--Nelly would discover +that Farrell was necessary to her--that she couldn't do without +him--just as she had never been able in practical ways to do without her +sister. No, there was nothing in the way of Nelly's great future, and +the free development of her--Bridget's--own life, but this sudden and +most unwelcome stroke of fate. If she had to send for Nelly--supposing +it really were Sarratt--and then if he died--Nelly might never get over +it. + +It might simply kill her--why not? All the world knew that she was a +weakling. And if it didn't kill her, it would make it infinitely less +likely that she would marry Farrell--in any reasonable time. Nelly was +not like other people. She was all feelings. Actually to see George +die--and in the state that these doctors described--would rack and +torture her. She would never be the same again. The first shock was bad +enough; this might be far worse. Bridget's selfishness, in truth, +counted on the same fact as Farrell's tenderness. 'After all, what +people don't see, they can't feel'--to quite the same degree. But if +Nelly, being Nelly, had seen the piteous thing, she would turn against +Farrell, and think it loyalty to George to send her rich suitor about +his business. Bridget felt that she could exactly foretell the course of +things. A squalid and melancholy veil dropped over the future. Poverty, +struggle, ill-health for Nelly--poverty, and the starving of all natural +desires and ambitions for herself--that was all there was to look +forward to, if the Farrells were alienated, and the marriage thwarted. + +A fierce revolt shook the woman by the window. She sat on there till the +moon dropped into the sea, and everything was still in the little +echoing hotel. And then though she went to bed she could not sleep. + + * * * * * + +After her coffee and roll in the little _salle à manger_, which with its +bare boards and little rags of curtains was only meant for summer +guests, and was now, on this first of November, nippingly cold, Bridget +wandered a little on the shore watching the white dust of the foam as a +chill west wind skimmed it from the incoming waves, then packed her bag, +and waited restlessly for Dr. Vincent. She understood she was to be +allowed, if she wished, two visits in the hospital, so as to give her an +opportunity of watching the patient she was going to see, without undue +hurry, and would then be motored back to D---- in time for the night +boat. She was bracing herself therefore to an experience the details of +which she only dimly foresaw, but which must in any case be excessively +disagreeable. What exactly she was going to do or say, she didn't know. +How could she, till the new fact was before her? + +Punctually on the stroke of eleven, a motor arrived in charge of an army +driver, and Bridget set out. They were to pick up Vincent in the town of +X---- itself and run on to the Camp. The sun was out by this time, and +all the seaside village, with its gimcrack hotels and villas flung +pell-mell upon the sand, and among the pines, was sparkling under it. So +were the withered woods, where the dead leaves were flying before the +wind, the old town where Napoleon gathered his legions for the attack on +England, and the wide sandy slopes beyond it, where the pine woods had +perished to make room for the Camp. The car stopped presently on the +edge of the town. To the left spread a river estuary, with a spit of +land beyond, and lighthouses upon it, sharp against a pale blue sky. +Every shade of pale yellow, of lilac and pearl, sparkled in the +distance, in the scudding water, the fast flying westerly clouds, and +the sandy inlets among the still surviving pines. + +'You're punctuality itself,' said a man emerging from a building before +which a sentry was pacing--'Now we shall be there directly.' + +The building, so Bridget was informed, housed the Headquarters of the +Base, and from it the business of the great Camp, whether on its +military or its hospital side, was mainly carried on. And as they drove +towards the Camp her companion, with the natural pride of the Englishman +in his job, told the marvellous tale of the two preceding years--how the +vast hospital city had been reared, and organised--the military camp +too--the convalescent camp--the transports--and the feeding. + +'The Boche thought they were the only organisers in the world!--We've +taught them better!' he said, with a laugh in his pleasant eyes, the +whole man of him, so weary the night before, now fresh and alert in the +morning sunshine. + +Bridget listened with an unwilling attention. This bit of the war seen +close at hand was beginning to suggest to her some new vast world, of +which she was wholly ignorant, where she was the merest cypher on +sufferance. The thought was disagreeable to her irritable pride, and she +thrust it aside. She had other things to consider. + +They drew up outside one of the general hospitals lined along the Camp +road. + +'You'll find him in a special ward,' said Vincent, as he handed her out. +'But I'll take you first to Sister.' + +They entered the first hut, and made their way past various small rooms, +amid busy people going to and fro. Bridget was aware of the usual +hospital smell of mingled anesthetic and antiseptic, and presently, her +companion laid a hasty hand on her arm and drew her to one side. A +surgeon passed with a nurse. They entered a room on the right, and left +the door of it a little ajar. + +'The operating theatre,' said Vincent, with a gesture that shewed her +where to look; and through the open door Bridget saw a white room +beyond, an operating table and a man, a splendid boy of nineteen or +twenty lying on it, with doctors and nurses standing round. The youth's +features shewed waxen against the white walls, and white overalls of the +nurses. + +'This way,' said Vincent. 'Sister, this is Miss Cookson. You +remember--Dr. Howson sent for her.' + +A shrewd-faced woman of forty in nurse's dress looked closely at +Bridget. + +'We shall be very glad indeed, Miss Cookson, if you can throw any light +on this case. It is one of the saddest we have here. Will you follow me, +please?' + +Bridget found herself passing through the main ward of the hut, rows of +beds on either hand. She seemed to be morbidly conscious of scores of +eyes upon her, and was glad when she found herself in the passage beyond +the ward. + +The Sister opened a door into a tiny sitting-room, and offered Bridget a +chair. + +'They have warned you that this poor fellow is deaf and dumb?' + +'Yes--I had heard that.' + +'And his brain is very clouded. He tries to do all we tell him--it is +touching to see him. But his real intelligence seems to be far away. +Then there are the wounds. Did Dr. Howson tell you about them?' + +'He said there were bad wounds.' + +The Sister threw up her hands. + +'How he ever managed to do the walking he must have done to get through +the lines is a mystery to us all. What he must have endured! The wounds +must have been dressed to begin with in a German field-hospital. Then on +his way to Germany, before the wounds had properly healed--that at least +is our theory--somewhere near the Belgian frontier he must have made his +escape. What happened then, of course, during the winter and spring +nobody knows; but when he reached our lines, the wounds were both in a +septic state. There have been two operations for gangrene since he has +been here. I don't think he'll stand another.' + +Bridget lifted her eyes and looked intently at the speaker-- + +'You think he's very ill?' + +'Very ill,' said the Sister emphatically. 'If you can identify him, you +must send for his wife at once--_at once_! Lieutenant Sarratt was, I +think, married?' + +'Yes,' said Bridget. 'Now may I see him?' + +The Sister looked at her visitor curiously. She was both puzzled and +repelled by Bridget's manner, by its lack of spring and cordiality, its +dull suggestion of something reserved and held back. But perhaps the +woman was only shy; and oppressed by the responsibility of what she had +come to do. The Sister was a very human person, and took tolerant views +of everything that was not German. She rose, saying gently-- + +'If I may advise you, take time to watch him, before you form or express +any opinion. We won't hurry you.' + +Bridget followed her guide a few steps along the corridor. The Sister +opened a door, and stood aside to let Bridget pass in. Then she came in +herself, and beckoned to a young probationer who was rolling bandages on +the further side of the only bed the room contained. The girl quietly +put down her work and went out. + +There was a man lying in the bed, and Bridget looked at him. Her heart +beat so fast, that she felt for a moment sick and suffocated. The Sister +bent over him tenderly, and put back the hair, the grey hair which had +fallen over his forehead. At the touch, his eyes opened, and as he saw +the Sister's face he very faintly smiled. Bridget suddenly put out a +hand and steadied herself by a chair standing beside the bed. The Sister +however saw nothing but the face on the pillow, and the smile. The smile +was so rare!--it was the one sufficient reward for all his nurses did +for him. + +'Now I'll leave you,' said the Sister, forbearing to ask any further +questions. 'Won't you sit down there? If you want anyone, you have only +to touch that bell.' + +She disappeared. And Bridget sat down, her eyes on the figure in the +bed, and on the hand outside the sheet. Her own hands were trembling, as +they lay crossed upon her lap. + +How grey and thin the hair was--how ghostly the face--what suffering in +every line! + +Bridget drew closer. + +'George!' she whispered. + +No answer. The man's eyes were closed again. He seemed to be asleep. +Bridget looked at his hand--intently. Then she touched it. + +The heavy blue-veined eyelids rose again, as though at the only summons +the brain understood. Bridget bent forward. What colour there had been +in it before ebbed from her sallow face; her lips grew white. The eyes +of the man in the bed met hers--first mechanically--without any sign of +consciousness; then--was it imagination?--or was there a sudden change +of expression--a quick trouble--a flickering of the lids? Bridget shook +through every limb. If he recognised her, if the sight of her brought +memory back--even a gleam of it--there was an end of everything, of +course. She had only to go to the nearest telegraph office and send for +Nelly. + +But the momentary stimulus passed as she looked--the eyes grew vacant +again--the lids fell. Bridget drew a long breath. She raised herself and +moved her chair farther away. + +Time passed. The window behind her was open, and the sun came in, and +stole over the bed. The sick man scarcely moved at all. There was +complete silence, except for the tread of persons in the corridor +outside, and certain distant sounds of musketry and bomb practice from +the military camp half a mile away. + +He was dying--the man in the bed. That was plain. Bridget knew the look +of mortal illness. It couldn't be long. + +She sat there nearly an hour--thinking. At the end of that time she rang +the hand-bell near her. + +Sister Agnes appeared at once. Bridget had risen and confronted her. + +'Well,' said the Sister eagerly. But the visitor's irresponsive look +quenched her hopes at once. + +'I see nothing at all that reminds me of my brother-in-law,' said +Bridget with emphasis. 'I am very sorry--but I cannot identify this +person as George Sarratt.' + +The Sister's face fell. + +'You don't even see the general likeness Dr. Howson thought he saw?' + +Bridget turned back with her towards the bed. + +'I see what Dr. Howson meant,' she said, slowly. 'But there is no real +likeness. My brother-in-law's face was much longer. His mouth was quite +different. And his eyes were brown.' + +'Did you see the eyes again? Did he look at you?' + +'Yes.' + +'And there was no sign of recognition?' + +'No.' + +'Poor dear fellow!' said the Sister, stooping over him again. There was +a profound and yearning pity in the gesture. 'I wish we could have kept +him more alive--more awake--for you, to see. But there had to be morphia +this morning. He had a dreadful night. Are you _quite_ sure? Wouldn't +you like to come back this afternoon, and watch him again? Sometimes a +second time--Oh, and what of the hands?--did you notice them?' And +suddenly remembering Dr. Howson's words, the Sister pointed to the +long, bloodless fingers lying on the sheet, and to the marked deformity +in each little finger. + +'Yet--but George's hands were not peculiar in any way.' Bridget's voice, +as she spoke, seemed to herself to come from far away; as though it were +that of another person speaking under compulsion. + +'I'm sorry--I'm sorry!'--the Sister repeated. 'It's so sad for him to be +dying here--all alone--nobody knowing even who he is--when one thinks +how somebody must be grieving and longing for him.' + +'Have you no other enquiries?' said Bridget, abruptly, turning to pick +up some gloves she had laid down. + +'Oh yes--we have had other visitors--and I believe there is a gentleman +coming to-morrow. But nothing that sounded so promising as your visit. +You won't come again?' + +'It would be no use,' said the even, determined voice. 'I will write to +Dr. Howson from London. And I do hope'--for the first time, the kindly +nurse perceived some agitation in this impressive stranger--'I do hope +that nobody will write to my sister--to Mrs. Sarratt. She is very +delicate. Excitement and disappointment might just kill her. That's why +I came.' + +'And that of course is why Dr. Howson wrote to you first. Oh I am sure +he will take every care. He'll be very, very sorry! You'll write to him? +And of course so shall I.' + +The news that the lady from England had failed to identify the nameless +patient to whom doctor and nurses had been for weeks giving their most +devoted care spread rapidly, and Bridget before she left the hospital +had to run the gauntlet of a good many enquiries, at the hands of the +various hospital chiefs. She produced on all those who questioned her +the impression of an unattractive, hard, intelligent woman whose +judgment could probably be trusted. + +'Glad she isn't my sister-in-law!' thought Vincent as he turned back +from handing her into the motor which was to take her to the port. But +he did not doubt her verdict, and was only sorry for 'old Howson,' who +had been so sure that something would come of her visit. + +The motor took Bridget rapidly back to D----, where she would be in good +time for an afternoon boat. She got some food, automatically, at a hotel +near the quay, and automatically made her way to the boat when the time +came. A dull sense of something irrevocable,--something +horrible,--overshadowed her. But the 'will to conquer' in her was as +iron; and, as in the Prussian conscience, left no room for pity or +remorse. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +A psychologist would have found much to interest him in Bridget +Cookson's mental state during the days which followed on her journey to +France. The immediate result of that journey was an acute sharpening of +intelligence, accompanied by a steady, automatic repression of all those +elements of character or mind which might have interfered with its free +working. Bridget understood perfectly that she had committed a crime, +and at first she had not been able to protect herself against the normal +reaction of horror or fear. But the reaction passed very quickly. +Conscience gave up the ghost. Selfish will, and keen wits held the +field; and Bridget ceased to be more than occasionally uncomfortable, +though a certain amount of anxiety was of course inevitable. + +She did not certainly want to be found out, either by Nelly or the +Farrells; and she took elaborate steps to prevent it. She wrote first a +long letter to Howson giving her reasons for refusing to believe in his +tentative identification of the man at X---- as George Sarratt, and +begging him not to write to her sister. 'That would be indeed _cruel_. +She can just get along now, and every month she gets a little stronger. +But her heart, which was weakened by the influenza last year, would +never stand the shock of a fearful disappointment. Please let her be. I +take all the responsibility. That man is not George Sarratt. I hope you +may soon discover who he is.' + +Step No. 2 was to go, on the very morning after she arrived in London, +to the Enquiry Office in A---- Street. Particulars of the case in France +had that morning reached the office, and Bridget was but just in time to +stop a letter from Miss Eustace to Nelly. When she pointed out that she +had been over to France on purpose to see for herself, that there was no +doubt at all in her own mind, and that it would only torment a frail +invalid to no purpose to open up the question, the letter was of course +countermanded. Who could possibly dispute a sister's advice in such a +case? And who could attribute the advice to anything else than sisterly +affection! + +Meanwhile among the mountains an unusually early winter was beginning to +set in. The weather grew bitterly cold, and already a powdering of snow +was on the fell-tops. For all that, Nelly could never drink deep enough +of the November beauty, as it shone upon the fells through some bright +frosty days. The oaks were still laden with leaf; the fern was still +scarlet on the slopes; and the ghylls and waterfalls leapt foaming white +down their ancestral courses. And in this austerer world, Nelly's +delicate personality, as though braced by the touch of winter, seemed to +move more lightly and buoyantly. She was more vividly interested in +things and persons--in her drawing, her books, her endless knitting and +sewing for the wounded. She was puzzled that Bridget stayed so long in +town, but alack! she could do very well without Bridget. Some portion of +the savour of life, of that infinity of small pleasures which each day +may bring for the simple and the pure in heart, was again hers. +Insensibly the great wound was healing. The dragging anguish of the +first year assailed her now but rarely. + +One morning she opened the windows in the little sitting-room, to let in +the sunshine, and the great spectacle of the Pikes wrapped in majestic +shadow, purple-black, with the higher peaks ranged in a hierarchy of +light behind them. + +She leant far out of the window, breathing in the tonic smell of the oak +leaves on the grass beneath her, and the freshness of the mountain air. +Then, as she turned back to the white-walled raftered room with its +bright fire, she was seized with the pleasantness of this place which +was now her home. Insensibly it had captured her heart, and her senses. +And who was it--what contriving brain--had designed and built it up, out +of the rough and primitive dwelling it had once been? + +Of course, William Farrell had done it all! There was scarcely a piece +of furniture, a picture, a book, that was not of his choosing and +placing. Little by little, they had been gathered round her. His hand +had touched and chosen them, every one. He took far more pleasure and +interest in the details of these few rooms than in any of his own +houses and costly possessions. + +Suddenly--as she sat there on the window-ledge, considering the room, +her back to the mountains--one of those explosions of consciousness +rushed upon Nelly, which, however surprising the crash, are really long +prepared and inevitable. + +What did that room really _mean_--the artistic and subtle simplicity of +it?--the books, the flowers, and the few priceless things, drawings or +terra-cottas, brought from the cottage, and changed every few weeks by +Farrell himself, who would arrive with them under his arm, or in his +pockets, and take them back in like manner. + +The colour flooded into Nelly's face. She dropped it in her hands with a +low cry. An agony seized her. She loathed herself. + +Then springing up passionately she began to pace the narrow floor, her +slender arms and hands locked behind her. + +Sir William was coming that very evening. So was Cicely, who was to be +her own guest at the farm, while Marsworth, so she heard, was to have +the spare room at the cottage. + +She had not seen William Farrell for some time--for what counted, at +least, as some time in their relation; not since that evening before +Bridget went away--more than a fortnight. But it was borne in upon her +that she had heard from him practically every day. There, in the drawer +of her writing-table, lay the packet of his letters. She looked for +them now morning after morning, and if they failed her, the day seemed +blank. Anybody might have read them--or her replies. None the less +Farrell's letters were the outpouring of a man's heart and mind to the +one person with whom he felt himself entirely at ease. The endless +problems and happenings of the great hospital to which he was devoting +more and more energy, and more and more wealth; the incidents and +persons that struck him; his loves and hates among the staff or the +patients; the humour or the pity of the daily spectacle;--it was all +there in his letters, told in a rich careless English that stuck to the +memory. Nelly was accustomed to read and re-read them. + +Yes, and she was proud to receive them!--proud that he thought so much +of her opinion and cared so much for her sympathy. But _why_ did he +write to her, so constantly, so intimately?--what was the real motive of +it all? + +At last, Nelly asked herself the question. It was fatal of course. So +long as no question is asked of Lohengrin--who, what, and whence he +is--the spell holds, the story moves. But examine it, as we all know, +and the vision fades, the gleam is gone. + +She passed rapidly, and almost with terror, into a misery of remorse. +What had she been doing with this kindest and best of men? Allowing him +to suppose that after a little while she would be quite ready to forget +George and be his wife? That threw her into a fit of helpless crying. +The tears ran down her cheeks as she moved to and fro. Her +George!--falling out there, in that ghastly No Man's Land, dying out +there, alone, with no one to help, and quiet now in his unknown grave. +And after little more than a year she was to forget him, and be rich and +happy with a new lover--a new husband? + +She seemed to herself the basest of women. Base towards George--and +towards Farrell--both! What could she do?--what must she do? Oh, she +must go away--she must break it all off! And looking despairingly round +the room, which only an hour before had seemed to her so dear and +familiar, she tried to imagine herself in exile from all it represented, +cut off from Farrell and from Cicely, left only to her own weak self. + +But she must--she _must_! That very evening she must speak to Willy--she +must have it out. Of course he would urge her to stay there--he would +promise to go away--and leave her alone. But that would be too mean, too +ungrateful. She couldn't banish him from this spot that he loved, where +he snatched his few hours--always now growing fewer--of rest and +pleasure. No, she must just depart. Without telling him? Without +warning? Her will failed her. + +She got out her table, with its knitting, and its bundles of prepared +work which had arrived that morning from the workroom, and began upon +one of them mechanically. But she was more and more weighed down by a +sense of catastrophe--which was also a sense of passionate shame. Why, +she was George's wife, still!--his _wife_--for who could _know_, for +certain, that he was dead? That was what the law meant. _Seven years_! + + * * * * * + +She spent the day in a wretched confusion of thoughts and plans. A +telegram from Cicely arrived about midday--'Can't get to you till +to-morrow. Willy and Marsworth coming to-day--Marsworth not till late.' + +So any hour might bring Farrell. She sat desperately waiting for him. +Meanwhile there was a post-card from Bridget saying that she too would +probably arrive that evening. + +That seemed the last straw. Bridget would merely think her a fool; +Bridget would certainly quarrel with her. Why, it had been Bridget's +constant object to promote the intimacy with the Farrells, to throw her +and Sir William together. Nelly remembered her own revolts and refusals. +They seemed now so long ago! In those days it was jealousy for George +that filled her, the fierce resolve to let no one so much as dream that +she could ever forget him, and to allow no one to give money to George's +wife, for whom George himself had provided, and should still provide. +And at an earlier stage--after George left her, and before he died--she +could see herself, as she looked back, keeping Sir William firmly at a +distance, resenting those friendly caressing ways, which others +accepted--which she too now accepted, so meekly, so abominably! She +thought of his weekly comings and goings, as they were now; how, in +greeting and good-bye, he would hold her hands, both of them, in his; +how once or twice he had raised them to his lips. And it had begun to +seem quite natural to her, wretch that she was; because he pitied her, +because he was so good to her--and so much older, nearly twenty years. +He was her brother and dear friend, and she the little sister whom he +cherished, who sympathised with all he did, and would listen as long as +he pleased, while he talked of everything that filled his mind--the war +news, his work, his books, his companions; or would sit by, watching +breathlessly while his skilful hand put down some broad 'note' of colour +or light, generally on a page of her own sketch-book. + +Ah, but it must end--it must end! And she must tell him to-night. + +Then she fell to thinking of how it was she had been so blind for so +long; and was now in this tumult of change. One moment, and she was +still the Nelly of yesterday, cheerful, patient, comforted by the love +of her friends; and the next, she had become this poor, helpless thing, +struggling with her conscience, her guilty conscience, and her sorrow. +How had it happened? There was something uncanny, miraculous in it. But +anyway, there, in a flash it stood revealed--her treason to George--her +unkindness to Willy. + +For she would never marry him--never! She simply felt herself an +unfaithful wife--a disloyal friend. + + * * * * * + +The November day passed on, cloudless, to its red setting over the +Coniston fells. Wetherlam stood black against the barred scarlet of the +west, and all the valleys lay veiled in a blue and purple mist, +traversed by rays of light, wherever a break in the mountain wall let +the sunset through. The beautiful winter twilight had just begun, when +Nelly heard the step she waited for outside. + +She did not run to the window to greet him as she generally did. She sat +still, by the fire, her knitting on her knee. Her black dress was very +black, with the plainest white ruffle at her throat. She looked very +small and pitiful. Perhaps she meant to look it! The weak in dealing +with the strong have always that instinctive resource. + +'How jolly to find you alone!' said Farrell joyously, as he entered the +room. 'I thought Miss Bridget was due.' He put down the books with which +he had come laden and approached her with outstretched hands. 'I +say!--you don't look well!' His look, suddenly sobered, examined her. + +'Oh yes, I am quite well. Bridget comes to-night.' + +She hurriedly withdrew herself, and he sat down opposite her, holding +some chilly fingers to the blaze, surveying her all the time. + +'Why doesn't Bridget stop here and look after you?' + +Nelly laughed. 'Because she has much more interesting things to do!' + +'That's most unlikely! Have you been alone all the week?' + +'Yes, but quite busy, thank you--and quite well.' 'You don't look it,' +he repeated gravely, after a moment. + +'So busy, and so well,' she insisted, 'that even I can't find excuses +for idling here much longer.' + +He gave a perceptible start. 'What does that mean? What are you going to +do?' + +'I don't know. But I think'--she eyed him uneasily--'hospital work of +some kind.' + +He shook his head. + +'I wouldn't take you in my hospital! You'd knock up in a week.' + +'You're quite, quite mistaken,' she said, eagerly. 'I can wash dishes +and plates now as well as anyone. Hester told me the other day of a +small hospital managed by a friend of hers--where they want a +parlour-maid. I could do that capitally.' + +'Where is it?' he asked, after a moment. + +She hesitated, and at last said evasively-- + +'In Surrey somewhere--I think.' + +He took up the tongs, and deliberately put the fire together, in +silence. At last he said-- + +'I thought you promised Cicely and me that you wouldn't attempt +anything of the kind?' + +'Not till I was fit.' Her voice trembled a little. 'But now I am--quite +fit.' + +'You should let your friends judge that for you,' he said gently. + +'No, no, I can't. I must judge for myself.' She spoke with growing +agitation. 'You have been so awfully, awfully good to me!--and now'--she +bent forward and laid a pleading hand on his arm--'now you must be good +to me in another way I you must let me go. I brood here too much. I want +not to think--I am so tired of myself. Let me go and think about other +people--drudge a little--and slave a little! Let me--it will do me +good!' + +His face altered perceptibly during this appeal. When he first came in, +fresh from the frosty air, his fair hair and beard flaming in the +firelight, his eyes all pleasure, he had seemed the embodiment of +whatever is lusty and vigorous in life--an overwhelming presence in the +little cottage room. But he had many subtler aspects. And as he listened +to her, the Viking, the demi-god, disappeared. + +'And what about those--to whom it will do harm?' + +'Oh no, it won't do harm--to anybody,' she faltered. + +'It will do the greatest harm!'--he laid a sharp emphasis on the words. +'Isn't it worth while to be just the joy and inspiration of those who +can work hard--so that they go away from you, renewed like eagles? +Cicely and I come--we tell you our troubles--our worries--our failures, +and our successes. We couldn't tell them to anyone else. But you sit +here; and you're so gentle and so wise--you see things so clearly, just +because you're not in the crowd, not in the rough and tumble--that we go +away--bucked up!--and run our shows the better for our hours with you. +Why must women be always bustling and hurrying, and all of them doing +the same things? If you only knew the blessing it is to find someone +with a little leisure just to feel, and think!--just to listen to what +one has to say. You know I am always bursting with things to say!' + +He looked at her with a laugh. His colour had risen. + +'I arrive here--often--full of grievances and wrath against +everybody--hating the Government--hating the War Office--hating our own +staff, or somebody on it--entirely and absolutely persuaded that the +country is going to the dogs, and that we shall be at Germany's mercy in +six months. Well, there you sit--I don't know how you manage it!--but +somehow it all clears away. I don't want to hang anybody any more--I +think we are going to win--I think our staff are splendid fellows, and +the nurses, angels--(they ain't, though, all the same!)--and it's all +_you_!--just by being you--just by giving me rope enough--letting me +have it all out. And I go away with twice the work in me I had when I +came. And Cicely's the same--and Hester. You play upon us all--just +because'--he hesitated--'because you're so sweet to us all. You raise us +to a higher power; you work through us. Who else will do it if you +desert us?' + +Her lips trembled. + +'I don't want to desert you, but--what right have I to such +comfort--such luxury--when other people are suffering and toiling?' + +He raised his eyebrows. + +'Luxury? This little room? And there you sit sewing and knitting all +day! And I'll be bound you don't eat enough to keep a sparrow!' + +There was silence. She was saying to herself--'Shall I ever be able to +go?--to break with them all?' The thought, the image, of George flashed +again through her mind. But why was it so much fainter, so much less +distinct than it had been an hour ago? Yet she seemed to turn to him, to +beg him piteously to protect her from something vague and undefined. + +Suddenly a low voice spoke-- + +'Nelly!--don't go!' + +She looked up--startled--her childish eyes full of tears. + +He held out his hand, and she could not help it, she yielded her own. + +Farrell's look was full of energy, of determination. He drew nearer to +her, still holding her hand. But he spoke with perfect self-control. + +'Nelly, I won't deceive you! I love you! You are everything to me. It +seems as if I had never been happy--never known what happiness could +possibly mean till I knew you. To come here every week--to see you like +this for these few hours--it changes everything--it sweetens +everything--because you are in my heart--because I have the hope--that +some day----' + +She withdrew her hand and covered her face. + +'Oh, it's my fault--my fault!' she said, incoherently--'how could +I?--how _could_ I?' + +There was silence again. He opened his lips to speak once or twice, but +no words came. One expression succeeded another on his face; his eyes +sparkled. At last he said--'How could you help it? You could not prevent +my loving you.' + +'Yes, I could--I ought----,' she said, vehemently. 'Only I was a fool--I +never realised. That's so like me. I won't face things. And yet'--she +looked at him miserably--'I did beg you to let me live my own +life--didn't I?--not to spoil me--not--not to be so kind to me.' + +He smiled. + +'Yes. But then you see--you were you!' + +She sprang up, looking down upon him, as he sat by the fire. 'That's +just it. If I were another person! But no!--no! I can't be your friend. +I'm not old enough--or clever enough. And I can't ever be anything +else.' + +'Why?' He asked it very quietly, his eyes raised to hers. He could see +the quick beat of her breath under her black dress. + +'Because I'm not my own. I'm not free--you know I'm not. I'm not free +legally--and I'm not free in heart. Oh, if George were to come in at +that door!'--she threw back her head with a passionate gesture--'there +would be nobody else in the world for me--nobody--nobody!' + +He stooped over the fire, fidgeting with it, so that his face was hidden +from her. + +'You know, I think, that if I believed there was the faintest hope of +that, I should never have said a word--of my own feelings. But as it +is--why must you feel bound to break up this--this friendship, which +means so much to us all? What harm is there in it? Time will clear up a +great deal. I'll hold my tongue--I promise you. I won't bother you. I +won't speak of it again--for a year--or more--if you wish. But--don't +forsake us!' + +He looked up with that smile which in Cicely's unbiased opinion gave him +such an unfair advantage over womankind. + +With a little sob, Nelly walked away towards the window, which was still +uncurtained though the night had fallen. Outside there was a starry deep +of sky, above Wetherlam and the northern fells. The great shapes held +the valley in guard; the river windings far below seemed still to keep +the sunset; while here and there shone scattered lights in farms and +cottages, sheltering the old, old life of the dales. + +Insensibly Nelly's passionate agitation began to subside. Had she been +filling her own path with imaginary perils and phantoms? Yet there +echoed in her mind the low-spoken words--'I won't deceive you! I love +you!' And the recollection both frightened and touched her. + +Presently Farrell spoke again, quite in his usual voice. + +'I shall be in despair if you leave me to tackle Cicely alone. She's +been perfectly mad lately. But you can put it all right if you choose.' + +Nelly was startled into turning back towards him. + +'Oh!--how can I?' + +'Tell her she has been behaving abominably, and making a good fellow's +life a burden to him. Scold her! Laugh at her!' + +'What has she been doing?' said Nelly, still standing by the window. + +Farrell launched into a racy and elaborate account--the effort of one +determined, _coûte que coûte_, to bring the conversation back to an +ordinary key--of Cicely's proceedings, during the ten days since Nelly +had seen her. + +It appeared that Marsworth, after many weeks during which they had heard +nothing of him, had been driven north again to his Carton doctor, by a +return of neuralgic trouble in his wounded arm; and as usual had put up +at the Rectory, where as usual Miss Daisy, the Rector's granddaughter, +had ministered to him like the kind little brick she was. + +'You see, she's altogether too good to be true!' said Farrell. 'And yet +it is true. She looks after her grandfather and the parish. She runs the +Sunday school, and all the big boys are in love with her. She does +V.A.D. work at the hospital. She spends nothing on her dress. She's +probably up at six every morning. And all the time, instead of being +plain, which of course virtue ought to be, she's as pretty as +possible--like a little bird. And Cicely can't abide her. I don't know +whether she's in love with Marsworth. Probably she is. Why not? At any +rate, whenever Marsworth and Cicely fall out, which they do every +day--Cicely has the vile habit--of course you know!--of visiting +Marsworth's sins upon little Daisy Stewart. I understood she was guilty +of some enormity at the Red Cross sale in the village last week. +Marsworth was shocked, and had it out with her. Consequently they +haven't been on speaking terms for days.' + +'What shall we do with them to-morrow?' cried Nelly in alarm, coming to +sit down again by the fire and taking up her knitting. How strange it +was--after that moment of tempestuous emotion--to have fallen back +within a few minutes into this familiar, intimate chat! Her pulse was +still rushing. She knew that something irrevocable had happened, and +that when she was alone, she must face it. And meanwhile here she sat +knitting!--and trying to help him with Cicely as usual! + +'Oh, and to-morrow!'--said Farrell with amusement, 'the fat will indeed +be in the fire.' + +And he revealed the fact that on his way through Grasmere he had fallen +in with the Stewarts. The old man had been suffering from bronchitis, +and the two had come for a few days' change to some cousins at Grasmere. + +'And the old man's a bit of a collector and wants to see the Turners. He +knows Carton by heart. So I had to ask them to come up to-morrow--and +there it is!--Cicely will find them in possession, with Marsworth in +attendance!' + +'Why does she come at all?' said Nelly, wondering. 'She knows Captain +Marsworth will be here. She said so, in her telegram.' + +Farrell shrugged his shoulders. + +'"It taks aw soarts to mak a worrld," as they say up here. But Marsworth +and Cis are queer specimens! I am privately certain he can't do for long +without seeing her. And as for her, I had no sooner arranged that he +should join me here to-night, than she telegraphed to you! Just like +her! I had no idea she thought of coming. Well, I suppose to quarrel +yourself into matrimony is one of the recognised openings!' + +The talk dropped. The joint consciousness behind it was too much for +it. It fell like a withered leaf. + +Farrell got up to go. Nelly too rose, trembling, to her feet. He took +her hand. + +'Don't leave us,' he repeated, softly. 'You are our little saint--you +help us by just living. Don't attempt things too hard for you. You'll +kill yourself, and then----' + +She looked at him mutely, held by the spell of his eyes. + +'Well then,' he finished, abruptly, 'there won't be much left for one +man to live for. Good-night.' + +He was gone, and she was left standing in the firelight, a small, +bewildered creature. + +'What shall I do?' she was saying to herself, 'Oh, what ought I to do?' + +She sank down on the floor, and hid her face against a chair. +Helplessly, she wished that Hester would come!--someone wise and strong +who would tell her what was right. The thought of supplanting George, of +learning to forget him, of letting somebody else take his place in her +heart, was horrible--even monstrous--to her. Yet she did not know how +she would ever find the strength to make Farrell suffer. His devotion +appealed--not to any answering passion in her--there was none--but to an +innate lovingness, that made it a torment to her to refuse to love and +be loved. Her power of dream, of visualisation, shewed him to her alone +and unhappy; when, perhaps, she might still--without harm--have been a +help to him--have shewn him her gratitude. She felt herself wavering and +retreating; seeking, as usual, the easiest path out of her great +dilemma. Must she either be disloyal to her George?--her dead, her +heroic George!--or unkind to this living man, whose unselfish devotion +had stood between her and despair? After all, might it not still go on? +She could protect herself. She was not afraid. + +But she _was_ afraid! She was in truth held by the terror of her own +weakness, and Farrell's strength, as she lay crouching by the fire. + +Outside the wind was rising. Great clouds were coming up from the +south-west. The rain had begun. Soon it was lashing the windows, and +pouring from the eaves of the old farmhouse. + +Nelly went back to her work; and the wind and rain grew wilder as the +hours passed. Just as she was thinking wearily of going to bed, there +were sounds of wheels outside. + +Bridget? so late! Nelly had long since given her up. What a night on +which to face the drive from Windermere! Poor horse!--poor man! + +Yes, it was certainly Bridget! As Nelly half rose, she heard the harsh, +deep voice upon the stairs. A tall figure, heavily cloaked, entered. + +'My dear Bridget--I'd quite given you up!' + +'No need,' said Bridget coolly, as she allowed Nelly to kiss her cheek. +'The afternoon train from Euston was a little late. You can't help that +with all these soldiers about.' + +'Come and sit down by the fire. Have you done all you wanted to do?' + +'Yes.' + +Bridget sat down, after taking off her wet water-proof, and held a +draggled hat to the blaze. Nelly looking at her was struck by the fact +that Bridget's hair had grown very grey, and the lines in her face very +deep. What an extraordinary person Bridget was! What had she been doing +all this time? + +But nothing could be got out of the traveller. She sat by the fire for a +while, and let Nelly get her a tray of food. But she said very little, +except to complain of the weather, and, once, to ask if the Farrells +were at the cottage. + +'Sir William is there, with Captain Marsworth,' said Nelly. 'Cicely +comes here to-morrow.' + +'Does she expect me to give her my room?' said Bridget sharply. + +'Not at all. She likes the little spare-room.' + +'Or pretends to! Has Sir William been here to-day?' + +'Yes, he came round.' + +A few more questions and answers led to silence broken only by the +crackling of the fire. The firelight played on Nelly's cheek and throat, +and on her white languid hands. Presently it caught her wedding-ring, +and Bridget's eye was drawn to the sparkle of the gold. She sat looking +absently at her sister. She was thinking of a tiny room in a hut +hospital--of the bed--and of those eyes that had opened on her. And +there sat Nelly--knowing nothing! + +It was all a horrible anxiety. But it couldn't last long. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +'So you are not at church?' + +The voice was Marsworth's as he stepped inside the flagged passage of +the farm, Nelly having just opened the door to him. + +'It's so far!--in winter,' said Nelly a little guiltily. 'I go to +Grasmere in summer.' + +'Oh! don't apologise--to a heathen like me! I'm only too thankful to +find you alone. Is your sister here?' + +'Yes. But we've made a room for her in one of the outhouses. She works +there.' + +'What at? Is she still learning Spanish?' asked Marsworth, smiling, as +he followed Nelly into the little white drawing-room. + +'I don't know,' said Nelly, after a moment, in a tone of depression. +'Bridget doesn't tell me.' + +The corners of Marsworth's strong mouth shewed amusement. He was not +well acquainted with Bridget Cookson, but as far as his observation +went, she seemed to him a curious specimen of the half-educated +pretentious woman so plentiful in our modern life. In place of +'psychology' and 'old Spanish,' the subjects in which Miss Cookson was +said to be engaged, he would have liked to prescribe for her--and all +her kin--courses of an elementary kind in English history and vulgar +fractions. + +But, for Nelly Sarratt, Marsworth felt the tender and chivalrous respect +that natures like hers exact easily from strong men. To him, as to +Farrell, she was the 'little saint' and peacemaker, with her lovingness, +her sympathy, her lack of all the normal vanities and alloys that beset +the pretty woman. That she was not a strong character, that she was +easily influenced and guided by those who touched her affections, he +saw. But that kind of weakness in a woman--when that woman also +possesses the mysterious something, half physical, half spiritual, which +gives delight--is never unpleasing to such men as Marsworth, nor indeed +to other women. It was Marsworth's odd misfortune that he should have +happened to fall in love with a young woman who had practically none of +the qualities that he naturally and spontaneously admired in the sex. + +It was, however, about that young woman that he had come to talk. For he +was well aware of Nelly's growing intimacy with Cicely, and had lately +begun to look upon that as his last hope. + +Yet he was no sooner alone with Nelly than he felt a dim compunction. +This timid creature, with her dark haunting eyes, had problems enough of +her own to face. He perceived clearly that Farrell's passion for her was +mounting fast, and he had little or no idea what kind of response she +was likely to make to it. But all the same his own need drove him on. +And Nelly, who had scarcely slept all night, caught eagerly at some +temporary escape from her own perplexities. + +'Dear Mrs. Sarratt!--have you _any_ idea, whether Cicely cares one brass +farthing for me, or not?' + +To such broad and piteous appeal was a gallant officer reduced. Nelly +was sorry for him, but could not hide the smile in her eyes, as she +surveyed him. + +'Have you really asked her?' + +'Asked her? Many times!--in the dark ages. It is months, however, since +she gave me the smallest chance of doing it again. Everything I do or +say appears to annoy her, and of course, naturally, I have relieved her +of my presence as much as possible.' + +Nelly had taken up her knitting. + +'If you never come--perhaps--Cicely thinks you are tired of her.' + +Marsworth groaned. + +'Is that her line now? And yet you know--you are witness!--of how she +behaves when I do come.' + +Nelly looked up boldly. + +'You mustn't be angry, but--why can't you accept her--as she is--without +always wanting her different?' + +Marsworth flushed slightly. The impressive effect of his fine iron-grey +head, and marked features, his scrupulously perfect dress, and general +look of competence and ability, was deplorably undone by the signs in +him of bewilderment and distress. + +'You mean--you think I bully her?--she thinks so?' + +'She--she feels--you so dreadfully disapprove of her!' said Nelly, +sticking to it, but smiling. + +'She regards me as a first-class prig in fact?' + +'No--but she thinks you don't always understand.' + +'That I don't know what a splendid creature she is, really?' said +Marsworth with increasing agitation. 'But I do know it! I know it up and +down. Why everybody--except those she dislikes!--at that hospital, +adores her. She's wearing herself out at the work. None of us are fit to +black her boots. But if one ever tries to tell her so--my hat!' + +'Perhaps she doesn't like being praised either,' said Nelly softly. +'Perhaps she thinks--an old friend--should take it all for granted.' + +'Good Lord!' said Marsworth holding his head in desperation--'whatever I +do is wrong! Dear Mrs. Sarratt!--look here--I must speak up for myself. +You know how Cicely has taken of late to being intolerably rude to +anybody she thinks is my friend. She castigates me through them. That +poor little girl, Daisy Stewart--why she's ready at any moment to +worship Cicely! But Cicely tramples on her--_you_ know how she does +it--and if I interfere, I'm made to wish I had never been born! At the +present moment, Cicely won't speak to me. There was some silly shindy at +a parish tea last week--by the way, she's coming to you to-day?' + +'She arrives for lunch,' said Nelly, looking at the clock. + +'And the Stewarts are coming to the cottage in the afternoon!' said +Marsworth in despair. 'Can you keep her away?' + +'I'll try--but you know it's not much good trying to manage Cicely.' + +'Don't I know it! I return to my first question--does she care a +hapo'rth?' + +Nelly was looking dreamily into the fire. + +'You mean--does she care enough to give up her ways and take to yours?' + +'Yes, I suppose I do mean that,' he said, with sudden seriousness. + +Nelly shook her head, smiling. + +'I don't know! But--Cicely's worth a deal of trouble.' + +He assented with a mixture of fervour and depression. + +'We've known each other since we were boy and girl. That's what makes +the difficulty, perhaps. We know each other too well. When she was a +child of fourteen, I was already in the Guards, and I used to try and +tackle her--because no one else would. Her father was dead. Her mother +had no influence with her; and Willy was too lazy. So I tried my hand. +And I find myself doing the same thing now. But of course it's +fatal--it's fatal!' + +Nelly tried to cheer him up, but she was not herself very hopeful. She, +perceived too clearly the martinet in him and the rebel in Cicely. If +something were suddenly to throw them together, some common interest or +emotion, each might find the other's heart in a way past undoing. On the +other hand the jarring habit, once set up, has a way of growing worse, +and reducing everything else to dust and ashes. Finally she wound up +with a timid but emphatic counsel. + +'Please--please--don't be sarcastic.' + +He looked injured. + +'I never am!' + +Nelly laughed. + +'You don't know when you are. And be very nice to her this afternoon.' + +'How can I, if she shews me at once that I'm unwelcome? You haven't +answered my question.' + +He was standing ready for departure. Nelly's face changed--became all +sad and tender pity. + +'You must ask it yourself!' she said eagerly, 'Go on asking it. It would +be too--too dreadful, wouldn't it?--to miss everything--by being proud, +or offended, for nothing----' + +'What do you mean by everything?' + +'You know,' she said, after a moment, shielding her eyes as they looked +into the fire; 'I'm sure you know. It _is_ everything.' + +As he walked back to the cottage, he found himself speculating not so +much about his own case as about his friend's. Willy was certainly in +love. And Nelly Sarratt was as softly feminine as Cicely was mannish +and strong. But he somehow did not feel that Willy's chances were any +safer than his own. + +A car arrived at one o'clock bringing Cicely, much wrapped up in fur +coat and motor-veils. She came impetuously into the sitting-room, and +seemed to fill it. It took some time to peel her and reduce her to the +size of an ordinary mortal. She then appeared in a navy-blue coat and +skirt, with navy-blue boots buttoned almost to the knees. The skirt was +immensely full and immensely short. When the strange erection to which +the motor-veil was attached was removed, Cicely showed a dark head with +hair cut almost short, and parted on the left side. Her eyebrows were +unmistakably blackened, her lips unmistakably--strengthened; and Nelly +saw at once that her guest was in a very feverish and irritated +condition. + +'Are you alone?' said Cicely, glancing imperiously round her, when the +disrobing was done. + +'Bridget is here.' + +'What are you going to do this afternoon?' + +'Can't we have a walk, you and I, together?' + +'Of course we can. Why should we be bothered with anyone else?' + +'I suppose,' said Nelly timidly--'they will come in to tea?' + +'"They"? Oh! you mean Willy and Captain Marsworth? It is such a pity +Willy can't find somebody more agreeable for these Sundays.' + +Cicely threw herself back in her chair, and lifted a navy-blue boot to +the fire. + +'More agreeable than Captain Marsworth?' + +'Exactly. Willy can't do anything without him, when he's in these parts; +and it spoils everything!' + +Nelly dropped a kiss on Cicely's hair, as she stood beside her. + +'Why didn't you put off coming till next week?' + +'Why should I allow my plans to be interfered with by Captain +Marsworth?' said Cicely, haughtily. 'I came to see _you_!' + +'Well, we needn't see much of him,' said Nelly, soothingly, as she +dropped on a stool beside her friend. + +'I'm not going to be kept out of the cottage, by Captain Marsworth, all +the same!' said Cicely hastily. 'There are several books there I want.' + +'Oh, Cicely, what have you been doing?' said Nelly, laying her head on +her guest's knees. + +'Doing? Nothing that I hadn't a perfect right to do. But I suppose--that +very particular gentleman--has been complaining?' + +Nelly looked up, and met an eye, fiercely interrogative, yet trying hard +not to be interrogative. + +'I've been doing my best to pick up the pieces.' + +'Then he has been complaining?' + +'A little narrative of facts,' said Nelly mildly. + +'Facts--_facts_!' said Cicely, with the air of a disturbed lioness. 'As +if a man whose ideas of manners and morals date from about--a million +years before the Flood.' + +'Dear!--there weren't any manners or morals a million years before the +Flood.' + +Cicely drew a breath of exasperation. + +'It's all very well to laugh, but if you only knew how _impossible_ that +man is!' + +'Then why not get a Sunday free from him?' + +Cicely flushed against her will, and said nothing. Nelly's black eyes +observed her with as much sarcasm in their sweetness as she dared to +throw into them. She changed her tone. + +'Don't go to the cottage this afternoon, Cicely.' + +'Why?' The voice was peremptory. + +'Well, because----' Nelly described Farrell's chance meeting with the +Stewarts and the inevitable invitation. Cicely's flush deepened. But she +tried to speak carelessly. + +'Of course, the merest device on that girl's part! She arranged it all.' + +'I really don't think she did.' + +'Ah, well, _you_ haven't seen what's been going on. A more shameless +pursuit----' + +Cicely stopped abruptly. There was a sudden sparkle in Nelly's look, +which seemed to shew that the choice of the word 'pursuit' had been +unlucky. + +Miss Farrell quieted down. + +'Of course,' she said, with a very evident attempt to recapture whatever +dignity might be left on the field, 'neither Willy nor I like to see an +old friend throwing himself away on a little pink and white nonentity +like Daisy Stewart. We can't be expected to smile upon it.' + +'But I understand, from one of the parties principally concerned, that +there is really nothing in it!' said Nelly, smiling. + +'One of the perjuries I suppose at which Jove laughs!' said Cicely +getting up, and hastily rearranging her short curls with the help of +various combs, before the only diminutive looking-glass the farm +sitting-room provided. 'However, we shall see what happens. I have no +doubt Miss Daisy has arranged the proposal scene for this very +afternoon. We shall be in for the last act of the play.' + +'Then you _are_ going to the cottage?' + +'Certainly!' said Cicely, with a clearing brow. 'Don't let's talk any +more about it. Do give me some lunch. I'm ravenous. Ah, here's your +sister!' + +For through a back window looking on what had once been a farm-yard, and +was now a small garden, Cicely saw Bridget emerge from the rebuilt +outhouse where an impromptu study had been devised for her, and walk +towards the farm. + +'I say, what's happened to your sister?' + +'Happened to her? What do you mean?' + +'She looks so much older.' + +'I suppose she's been working too hard,' said Nelly, remorsefully. 'I +wish I knew what it was all about.' + +'Well, I can tell you'--said Cicely laughing and whispering--'that +Willy doesn't think it's about anything in particular!' + +'Hush!' said Nelly, with a pained look. 'Perhaps we shall all turn out +to be quite wrong. We shall discover that it was something--' + +'Desperately interesting and important? Not it! But I'm going to be as +good as good. You'll see.' + +And when Bridget appeared, Cicely did indeed behave herself with +remarkable decorum. Her opinion was that Nelly's strange sister had +grown more unlike other people than ever since she had last seen her. +She seemed to be in a perpetual brown study, which was compatible, +however, with a curious watchfulness which struck Cicely particularly. +She was always aware of any undercurrent in the room--of anyone going in +or out--of persons passing in the road. At lunch she scarcely opened her +lips, but Cicely was all the time conscious of being observed. After +luncheon Bridget got up abruptly, and said she was going down to +Grasmere to post a letter. + +'Oh, then,' said Nelly--'you can ask if there are any for me.' + +For there was no delivery at the farm on Sunday morning. Bridget nodded, +and they soon saw her emerge from the farm gate and take the Grasmere +road. + +'I must say your sister seems greatly to prefer her own company to +ours,' said Cicely, lighting her cigarette. + +Again Nelly looked distressed. + +'She was always like that,' she said at last. 'It doesn't really mean +anything.' + +'Do I know you well enough to ask whether you get on with her?' + +Nelly coloured. 'I try my best'--she said, rather despairingly. Then she +added--'she does all sorts of things for me that I'm too lazy to do for +myself!' + +'I believe she likes Willy better than most people!' laughed Cicely. +'I'm not suggesting, please, that she has designs upon him. But she is +certainly more forthcoming to him than to anybody else, isn't she?' + +Nelly did not reply. The remark only clouded her look still more. For +her inner mind was perfectly aware of Bridget's attitude towards William +Farrell, and understood it only too well. She knew by this time, past +any doubt, that Bridget was hungry for the Farrell wealth, and was +impatient with herself as a little fool who had not yet made certain of +it. If she stuck to her purpose--if she went away and cut off all +communication with Carton--Bridget would probably quarrel with her for +good. + +Would she stick to her purpose? Her mind was miserably swaying to and +fro. She felt morally as she had once felt--physically--on a summer +afternoon long before, when she, who could not swim, had gone +imperceptibly out of her depth, while bathing, and had become suddenly +aware of a seaward current, carrying her away. No help was near. For +five minutes, which had seemed five years, she had wrestled against the +deadly force, which if her girlish strength had been a fraction less, +would have swept her out, a lifeless plaything to the open sea. +Spiritually, it was the same now. Farrell's will, and--infinitely less +important, but still, to be reckoned with--Bridget's will, were pressing +her hard. She did not know if she could keep her footing. + +Meanwhile Cicely, in complete ignorance of the new and agonised tension +in Nelly's mind, was thinking only of her own affairs. As soon as her +after-luncheon cigarette was done, she sprang up and began to put on her +hat. + +'So you _are_ going to the cottage?' said Nelly. + +'Certainly. How do you like my boots?' + +She held up one for inspection. + +'I don't like them!' + +'Fast, you think? Ah, wait till you see my next costume! High Russian +boots, delicious things, up to there!' Cicely indicated a point above +the knee, not generally reached by the female boot--'hand-painted and +embroidered--with tassels--you know!--corduroy trousers!' + +'Cicely!--you won't!' + +'Shan't I--and a pink jersey, the new shade? I saw a friend of mine in +this get-up, last week. Ripping! Only she had red hair, which completed +it. Perhaps I might dye mine!' + +They sallied forth into a mild winter afternoon. Nelly would have +avoided the cottage and Farrell if she could, but Cicely had her own way +as usual. Presently they turned into a side lane skirting the tarn, from +which the cottage and its approaches could be seen, at a distance. From +the white-pillared porch, various figures were emerging, four in all. + +Cicely came to a stop. + +'There, you see!' she said, in her sharpest voice--'Look there!' For two +of the figures, whom it was easy to identify as Captain Marsworth and +Miss Stewart, diverging from the other pair, went off by themselves in +the direction of Skelwith, with a gay wave of the hand to the old Rector +and Farrell left behind. + +Cicely's sudden scarlet ebbed in a moment, leaving her quite white. She +walked on with difficulty, her eyes on the ground. Nelly dared not +address her, or slip a sympathising hand into hers. And it was too late +to retreat. Farrell had perceived them, and he and his companion came +towards them. Cicely pulled herself rapidly together. + +Nelly too had need of a minute or two's recollection before Farrell +joined them. He and she were still to meet as usual, while meeting was +possible--wasn't that how it stood? After all, her new plans could not +be made in a moment. She had promised nothing; but he had +promised--would she be able to hold him to it? Her heart trembled as he +came nearer. + +But he met her in a sunny mood, introducing her to the white-haired old +clergyman, and watching Cicely with eyes that shewed a hidden amusement. + +'The other two seemed to have some private business to discuss,' he said +carelessly. 'So they've got rid of us for a while. They're walking round +the other side of the tarn and will join us at the top of Red Bank. At +least if you're up to a walk?' + +He addressed Nelly, who could do nothing but assent, though it meant a +tête-à-tête with him, while Cicely and the old Rector followed. + +Mr. Stewart found Miss Farrell anything but an agreeable companion. He +was not a shrewd observer, and the love-affairs especially of his +fellow-creatures were always a surprise and a mystery to him. But he +vaguely understood that his little granddaughter was afraid of Miss +Farrell and did not get on with her. He, too, was afraid of Cicely and +her sharp tongue, while her fantastic dress and her rouge put him in +mind of passages in the prophet Ezekiel, the sacred author of whom he +was at that moment making a special study with a view to a Cambridge +University sermon. It would be terrible if Daisy were ever to take to +imitating Miss Farrell. He was a little disturbed about Daisy lately. +She had been so absent-minded, and sometimes--even--a little flighty. +She had forgotten the day before, to look out some passages for him; and +there was a rent in his old overcoat she had not mended. He was +disagreeably conscious of it. And what could she have to say to Captain +Marsworth? It was all rather odd--and annoying. He walked in a +preoccupied silence. + +Farrell and Nelly meanwhile were, it seemed, in no lack of conversation. +He told her that he might possibly be going to France, in a week or two, +for a few days. The Allied offensive on the Somme was apparently +shutting down for the winter. 'The weather in October just broke +everybody's heart, vile luck! Nothing to be done but to make the winter +as disagreeable to the Boche as we can, and to go on piling up guns and +shells for the spring. I'm going to look at hospitals at X---' he named +a great base camp--'and I daresay they'll let me have a run along some +bit of the front, if there's a motor to be had.' + +Nelly stopped abruptly. He could see the colour fluctuating in her +delicate face. + +'You're going to X---? You--you might see Dr. Howson?' + +'Howson?' he said, surprised. 'Do you know him? Yes, I shall certainly +see Howson. He's now the principal surgeon at one of the General +Hospitals there, where I specially want to look at some new splints +they've been trying.' + +Nelly moved on without speaking for a little. At last she said, almost +inaudibly-- + +'He promised me--to make enquiries.' + +'Did he?' Farrell spoke in the grave, deep voice he seemed to keep for +her alone, which was always sweet to her ear. 'And he has never +written?' She shook her head. 'But he would have written--instantly--you +may be quite sure, if there had been the slightest clue.' + +'Oh yes, I know, I know,' she said hastily. + +'Give me any message for him you like--or any questions you'd like me to +ask.' + +'Yes'--she said, vaguely. + +It seemed to him she was walking languidly, and he was struck by her +weary look. The afternoon had turned windy and cold with gusts of rain. +But when he suggested an immediate return to the cottage, Nelly would +have none of it. + +'We were to meet Captain Marsworth and Miss Stewart. Where are they?' + +They emerged at the moment from the cottage grounds, upon the high road; +Farrell pointed ahead, and Nelly saw Marsworth and Miss Stewart walking +fast up the hill before them, and evidently in close conversation. + +'What can they have to talk about?' said Nelly, wondering. + +'Wouldn't you like to know!' + +'You're not going to tell me?' + +'Not a word.' + +His eyes laughed at her. They walked on beside each other, strangely +content. And yet, with what undercurrents of sensitive and wounded +consciousness on her side, of anxiety on his! + +At the top of Red Bank they came up with Marsworth and Miss Stewart. +Nelly's curiosity was more piqued than ever. If all that Marsworth had +said to her was true, why this evident though suppressed agitation on +the girl's part, and these shades of mystery in the air? Daisy Stewart +was what anybody would have called 'a pretty little thing.' She was +small, round-cheeked, round-eyed, round-limbed; light upon her feet; +shewing a mass of brown hair brushed with gold under her hat, and the +fresh complexion of a mountain maid. Nelly guessed her age about three +and twenty, and could not help keenly watching the meeting between her +and Cicely. She saw Cicely hold out a limp hand, and the girl's timid, +almost entreating eyes. + +But, the next moment, her attention was diverted to a figure slowly +mounting the steep hill from Grasmere, on the top of which the cottage +party were now standing, uncertain whether to push on for their walk, or +to retreat homewards before the increasing rain. The person approaching +was Bridget. As she perceived her, Nelly was startled into quick +recollection of Cicely's remark of the morning--'Your sister seems to +have grown much older.' But not only older--_different!_ Nelly could not +have analysed her own impression, but it was so painful that she ran +down to meet her. + +'Bridget, it's too far for you to Grasmere!--and coming back up this +awful hill! You look quite done. Do go home and lie down, or will you +come to the cottage for tea first? It's nearer.' + +Bridget looked at her coldly. + +'Why do you make such a fuss? I'm all right. But I'm not coming to the +cottage, thank you. I've got things to do.' + +The implication was that everyone else was idle. Nelly drew back, +rebuffed. And as Bridget reached the group at the top of the hill it was +as though the rain and darkness suddenly deepened. All talk dropped. +Farrell, indeed, greeted her courteously, introduced her to the +Stewarts, and asked her to come back to the cottage for tea. But he was +refused as Nelly had been. Bridget went on her way alone towards the +farm. But after parting from the others she turned back suddenly to +say--'There were no letters for you, Nelly.' + +'What a mercy!' said Farrell, as Bridget disappeared. 'Don't you think +so? I never have any forwarded here.' + +'Ah, but you get so many,' said Nelly wistfully. 'But still, letters +don't matter to me--now.' + +He said nothing, but it roused in him a kind of fierce soreness that she +would always keep the past so clearly before herself and him. + +Violent rain came on, and they hurried back to the cottage for shelter. +Cicely was talking extravagantly all the time. She was tired to death, +she said, of everything patriotic. The people who prattled about +nursing, and the people who prattled about the war--especially the +people who talked about women's work--were all equally intolerable. She +meant to give up everything very soon. Somebody must amuse themselves, +or the world would go mad. Farrell threw at her some brotherly jibes; +the old Rector looked scared; and Marsworth said nothing. + + * * * * * + +There were bright fires in the cottage, and the dripping walkers were +glad to crowd round them; all except Cicely and Marsworth, who seemed to +Nelly's watching sense to be oddly like two wrestlers pacing round each +other, and watching the opportunity to close. Each would take out a book +from the shelves and put it back, or take up a newspaper from the +tables--crossing repeatedly, but never speaking. And meanwhile Nelly +also noticed that Daisy Stewart, now that Cicely's close contact was +removed, was looking extraordinarily pretty. Radiance, not to be +concealed, shone from her charming childish face. + +Suddenly Marsworth paused in front of Cicely, intercepting her as she +was making for the door. + +'Would you be an angel, Miss Farrell, and help me to find a particular +Turner drawing I want to see? Willy says it's in the studio somewhere.' + +Cicely paused, half haughty, half irresolute. + +'Willy knows his way about the portfolios much better than I do.' + +Marsworth came nearer, and leaning one hand on the table between them, +bent over to her. He was smiling, but there was emotion in his look. + +'Willy is looking after these people. Won't you?' + +Cicely considered. + +'All right!' she said carelessly, at last, and led the way. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +The studio was empty. A wood fire burnt on the wide hearth, making a +pleasant glow in the wintry twilight. Cicely seated herself on the end +of a sofa, crossed her feet, and took out a cigarette. But to +Marsworth's intense relief she had taken off the helmet-like erection +she called a hat, and her black curly hair strayed as it pleased about +her brow and eyes. + +'Well?' she said, at last, looking at him coolly. Marsworth could not +help laughing. He brought a chair, and placed it where he could see her +from below, as he lay back in it, his hands behind his head. + +'Of course, you don't want to look at the portfolio,' she resumed, 'that +was your excuse. You want to tell me of your engagement to Miss +Stewart.' + +Marsworth laughed again. Her ear caught what seemed to be a note of +triumph. + +'Make haste, please!' she said, breathing quickly. 'There isn't very +much time.' + +His face changed. He sat up, and held out his hand to her. + +'Dear Cicely, I want you to do something for me.' + +But she put her own behind her back. + +'Have you been quarrelling already? Because if you want me to make it +up, that really isn't my vocation.' + +He was silent a moment surveying her. Then he said quietly--'I want you +to help me. I want you to be kind to that little girl.' + +'Daisy Stewart? Thank you. But I've no gift at all for mothering babes! +Besides--she'll now have all the advice, and all the kindness she +wants.' + +Marsworth's lips twitched. + +'Yes, that's true--if you and I can help her out. Cicely!--aren't you a +great friend of Sir John Raine?' + +He named one of the chiefs of the Army Medical Department, a man whose +good word was the making of any aspirant in the field he ruled. + +Cicely looked rather darkly at her questioner. + +'What do you mean?' + +'I want you to help me get an appointment for somebody.' + +'For whom?' + +'For the man Daisy Stewart wants to marry.' + +Cicely could not conceal her start. + +'I don't like being mystified,' she said coldly. + +Marsworth allowed his smile to shew itself. + +'I'm not trying to mystify you in the least. Daisy Stewart has been +engaged for nearly a year to one of the house-surgeons in your +hospital--young Fellows. Nobody knows it--not Willy even. It has been +kept a dead secret, because that wicked old man the Rector won't have +it. Daisy makes him comfortable, and he won't give her up, if he can +help it. And as young Fellows has nothing but his present pay--a year +with board and lodging--it seemed hopeless. But now he has got his eye +on something.' + +And in a quiet business-like voice Marsworth put the case of the +penniless one--his qualifications, his ambitions, and the particular +post under the Army Medical Board on which he had set his hopes. If only +somebody with influence would give him a leg up! + +Cicely interrupted. + +'Does Willy know?' + +'No. You see, I have come to you first.' + +'How long have you known?' + +'Since my stay with them last autumn. I suspected something then, just +as I was leaving; and Miss Daisy confessed--when I was there in May. +Since then she seems to have elected me her chief adviser. But, of +course, I had no right to tell anybody anything.' + +'That is what you like--to advise people?' + +Marsworth considered it. + +'There was a time'--he said, at last, in a different voice, 'when my +advice used to be asked by someone else--and sometimes taken.' + +Cicely pretended to light another cigarette, but her slim fingers shook +a little. + +'And now--you never give it?' + +'Oh yes, I do,' he said, with sudden bitterness--'even unasked. I'm +always the same old bore.' + +There was silence. His right hand stole towards her left that was lying +limply over her knee. Cicely's eyes looking down were occupied with his +disabled arm, which, although much improved, was still glad to slip into +its sling whenever it was not actively wanted. + +But just as he was capturing her, Cicely sprang up. + +'I must go and see about Sir John Raine.' + +'Cicely--I don't care a brass farthing about Sir John Raine!' + +'But having once brought him in, I recommend you to stick to him,' said +Cicely, with teasing eyes. 'And don't go advising young women. It's not +good for the military. _I'm_ going to take this business in hand.' + +And she made for departure, but Marsworth got to the door first, and put +his back against it. + +'Find me the Turner, Cicely.' + +'A man who asks for a thing on false pretences shouldn't have it.' + +A silence. Then a meek voice said-- + +'Captain Marsworth, my brother, Sir William Farrell, will be requiring +my services at tea!' + +Marsworth moved aside and she forward. But as she neared him, he caught +her passionately in his arms and kissed her. She released herself, +crimson. + +'Do I like being kissed?' she said in a low voice--'do I? Anyway +don't do it again!--and if you dare to say a word yet--to anyone--' + +Her eyes threatened; but he saw in them revelations her pride could not +check, and would have disobeyed her at once; but she was too quick for +him. In a second she had opened the door and was gone. + +During the rest of the afternoon, her brother and Nelly watched Cicely's +proceedings with stupefaction; only equalled by the bewilderment of Miss +Daisy Stewart. For that young lady was promoted to the good graces of +Sir William's formidable sister with a rapidity and completeness which +only natural good manners and good sense could have enabled her to deal +with; considering the icy exclusion to which she had been so long +condemned. But as she possessed both, she took it very simply; always +with the same serene light in her grey eyes. + +Marsworth said to himself presently that young Fellows' chances were +good. But in truth he hardly remembered anything about them, except that +by the help of them he had kissed Cicely! And he had yet to find out +what that remarkable fact was to mean, either to himself or to her. She +refused to let him take her back to the farm, and she only gave him a +finger in farewell. Nor did she say a word of what had happened, even to +Nelly. + +Nelly spent again a very wakeful night. Farrell had walked home with +them, and she understood from him that, although he was going over early +to Carton the following morning, he would be at the cottage again +before many days were over. It seemed to her that in telling her so he +had looked at her with eyes that seemed to implore her to trust him. And +she, on hearing it, had been merely dumb and irresponsive, not +forbidding or repellent, as she ought to have been. The courage to wound +him to the quick--to leave him bereft, to go out into the desert +herself, seemed to be more and more oozing away from her. + +Yet there beside her bed, on the table which held her Testament, and the +few books--almost all given her by W.F.--to which she was wont to turn +in her wakeful hours, was George's photograph in uniform. About three +o'clock in the morning she lit her candle, and lay looking at it, till +suddenly she stretched out her hand for it, kissed it repeatedly, and +putting it on her breast, clasped her hands over it, and so fell asleep. + +But before she fell asleep, she was puzzled by the sounds in Bridget's +room next door. Bridget seemed to be walking about--pacing up and down +incessantly. Sometimes the steps would cease; only to begin again after +a while with the same monotony. What could be the matter with Bridget? +This vague worry about her sister entered into and heightened all +Nelly's other troubles. Yet all the same, in the end, she fell asleep; +and the westerly wind blowing over Wetherlam, and chasing wild flocks of +grey rain-clouds before him, found no one awake in the cottage or the +farm to listen to the concert he was making with the fells, but +Bridget--and Cicely. + + * * * * * + +Bridget Cookson had indeed some cause for wakefulness. Locked away in +the old workbox, where she kept the papers to which she attached +importance, was a letter bearing the imprint 'O.A.S.,' which had been +delivered to her on Sunday afternoon by the Grasmere post-mistress. It +ran as follows: + + +'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I know of course that you are fully convinced the +poor fellow we have here in charge has nothing to do with your +brother-in-law. But as you saw him, and as the case may throw light on +other cases of a similar nature, I thought I would just let you know +that owing apparently to the treatment we have been carrying out, there +are some very interesting signs of returning consciousness since your +visit, though nothing very definite as yet. He is terribly ill, and +physically I see no chance for him. But I think he _may_ be able to tell +us who he is before the end, in which case I will inform you, lest you +should now or at any future time feel the smallest misgiving as to your +own verdict in the matter. This is very unlikely, I know, for I +understand you were very decided; but still as soon as we have definite +information--if we get it--you may wish to inform poor Mrs. Sarratt of +your journey here. I hope she is getting stronger. She did indeed look +very frail when I saw her last. + +'Yours very truly, + +'ROBERT HOWSON.' + +Since the receipt of that letter Bridget's reflections had been more +disagreeable than any she had yet grappled with. In Nelly's company the +awfulness of what she had done did sometimes smite home to her. Well, +she had staked everything upon it, and the only possible course was to +brazen it out. That George should die, and die _quickly_--without any +return of memory or speech, was what she terribly and passionately +desired. In all probability he would die quickly; he might even now be +dead. She saw the thing perpetually as a race between his returning +mind--if he still lived, and it was returning--and his ebbing strength. +If she had lived in old Sicilian days, she would have made a waxen image +like the Theocritean sorceress, and put it by the fire, that as it +wasted, so George might waste. As it was, she passed her time during the +forty-eight hours after reading Howson's letter in a silent and +murderous concentration on one thought and wish--George Sarratt's +speedy death. + +What a release indeed for everybody!--if people would only tell the +truth, and not dress up their real feelings and interests in stale +sentimentalisms. Farrell made happy at no very distant date; Nelly +settled for life with a rich man who adored her; her own future +secured--with the very modest freedom and opportunity she craved:--all +this on the one side--futile tragedy and suffering on the other. None +the less, there were moments when, with a start, she realised what other +people might think of her conduct. But after all she could always plead +it was a mistake--an honest mistake. Are there not constantly cases in +the law courts, which shew how easy it is to fail in identifying the +right person, or to persist in identifying the wrong one? + +During the days before Farrell returned, the two sisters were alone +together. Bridget would gladly have gone away out of sight and hearing +of Nelly. But she did not dare to leave the situation--above all, the +postman--unwatched. Meanwhile Nelly made repeated efforts to break down +the new and inexplicable barrier which seemed to have arisen between +herself and Bridget. Why would Bridget always sit alone in that chilly +outside room, which even with a large fire seemed to Nelly +uninhabitable? She tried to woo her sister, by all the small devices in +her power. + +'Why won't you come and sit with me a bit, Bridget? I'm so dull all +alone!'--she would say when, after luncheon or high tea, Bridget showed +signs of immediately shutting herself up again. + +'I can't. I must do some work.' + +'Do tell me what you're doing, Bridget?' + +'Oh, you wouldn't understand.' + +'Well, other people don't always think me a born idiot!'--Nelly would +say, not without resentment. 'I really could understand, Bridget, if +you'd try.' + +'I haven't the time.' + +'And you're killing yourself with so many hours of it. Why should you +slave so? If you only would come and help me sometimes with the Red +Cross work, I'd do any needlework for you, that you wanted.' + +'You know I hate needlework.' + +'You're not doing anything--not _anything_--for the war, Bridget!' Nelly +would venture, wistfully, at last. + +'There are plenty of people to do things for the war. I didn't want the +war! Nobody asked my opinion.' + +And presently the door would shut, and Nelly would be left to watch the +torrents of rain outside, and to endeavour by reading and drawing, by +needlework and the society of her small friend Tommy, whenever she could +capture him, to get through the day. She pined for Hester, but Hester +was doing Welfare work in a munition factory at Leeds, and could not be +got at. + +So there she sat alone, brooding and planning, too timid to talk to +Bridget of her own schemes, and, in her piteous indecision, longing +guiltily for Farrell's return. Meanwhile she had written to several +acquaintances who were doing V.A.D. work in various voluntary hospitals, +to ask for information. + +Suddenly, after the rain came frost and north wind--finally snow; the +beginning in the north of the fiercest winter Western Europe has known +for many years. Over heights and dales alike spread the white Leveller, +melting by day in the valley bottoms, and filling up his wastage by +renewed falls at night. Nelly ventured out sometimes to look at the high +glories of Wetherlam and the Pikes, under occasional gleams of sun. +Bridget never put a foot out of doors, except when she went to the +garden gate to look for the postman in the road, and take the letters +from him. + +At last, one evening, when after a milder morning a bitter blast from +the north springing up at dusk had, once more, sent gusts of snow +scudding over the fells, Nelly's listening ear heard the well-known step +at the gate. She sprang up with a start of joy. She had been so lonely, +so imprisoned with her own sad thoughts. The coming of this kind, strong +man, so faithful to his small friend through all the stress of his busy +and important life, made a sudden impression upon her, which brought the +tears to her eyes. She thought of Carton, of its splendid buildings, and +the great hospital which now absorbed them; she seemed to see Farrell as +the king of it all, the fame of his doings spreading every month over +the north, and wiping out all that earlier conception of him as a +dilettante and an idler of which she had heard from Hester. And yet, +escaping from all that activity, that power, that constant interest and +excitement, here he was, making use of his first spare hour to come +through the snow and the dark, just to spend an hour with Nelly Sarratt, +just to cheer her lonely little life. + +Nelly ran to the window and opened it. + +'Is that really you?' she called, joyously, while the snow drifted +against her face. + +Farrell, carrying a lantern, was nearing the porch. The light upon his +face as he turned shewed her his look of delight. + +'I'm later than I meant, but the roads are awful. May I walk in?' + +She ran down to meet him; then hung back rather shyly in the passage, +while he took off his overcoat and shook the snow from his beard. + +'Have you any visitors?' he asked, still dusting away the snow. + +'Only Bridget. I asked Hester, but she couldn't come.' + +He came towards her along the narrow passage, to the spot where she +stood tremulous on the lowest step of the stairs. A lamp burning on a +table revealed her slight figure in black, the warm white of her throat +and face, the grace of the bending head, and the brown hair wreathed +about it. He saw her as an exquisite vision in a dim light and shade. +But it was not that which broke down his self-control so much as the +pathetic look in her dark eyes, the look of one who is glad, and yet +shrinks from her own gladness--tragically conscious of her own weakness, +and yet happy in it. It touched his heart so profoundly that whether +the effect was pain or pleasure he could not have told. But as he +reached the step, moved by an irresistible impulse, he held out his +arms, and she melted into them. For one entrancing instant, he held her +close and warm upon his breast, while the world went by. + +But the next moment she had slipped away, and was sitting on the step, +her face in her hands. + +He did not plead or excuse himself. He just stood by her endeavouring to +still and control his pulses--till at last she looked up. The lamp +shewed her his face, and the passion in it terrified her. For there had +been no passion in her soft and sudden yielding. Only the instinct of +the child that is forsaken and wants comforting, that feels love close +to it, and cannot refuse it. + +'There, you see!' she said, desperately--'You see--I must go!' + +'No! It's I who must go. Unless '--his voice sank almost to a +whisper--'Nelly!--couldn't you--marry me? You should never, never regret +it.' + +She shook her head, and as she dropped her face again in her hands he +saw a shudder run through her. At the sight his natural impulse was to +let passion have its way, to raise her in his arms again, and whisper to +her there in the dark, as love inspired him, his cheek on hers. But he +did not venture. He was well aware of something intangible and +incalculable in Nelly that could not be driven. His fear of it held him +in check. He knew that she was infinitely sorry for him and tender +towards him. But he knew too that she was not in love with him. Only--he +would take his chance of that, if only she would marry him. + +'Dear!' he said, stooping to her, and touching her dark curls with his +hand. 'Let's call in Hester! She's dreadfully wise! If you were with her +I should feel happy--I could wait. But it is when I see you so lonely +here--and so sad--nobody to care for you!--that I can't bear it!' + +Through the rush of the wind, a sound of someone crossing the yard +behind the farm came to their ears. Nelly sprang to her feet and led the +way upstairs. Farrell followed her, and as they moved, they heard +Bridget open the back door and come in. + +The little sitting-room was bright with lamp and fire, and Farrell, +perceiving that they were no longer to be alone, and momentarily +expecting Bridget's entrance, put impatience aside and began to talk of +his drive from Carton. + +'The wind on Dunmail Raise was appalling, and the lamps got so +be-snowed, we had to be constantly clearing them. But directly we got +down into the valley it mended, and I managed to stop at the +post-office, and ask if there were any letters for you. There were +two--and a telegram. What have I done with them?' He began to search in +his pockets, his wits meanwhile in such a whirl that it was difficult +for him to realise what he was doing. + +At that point Bridget opened the door. He turned to shake hands with +her, and then resumed his fumbling. + +'I'm sure they did give them to me'--he said, in some concern,--'two +letters and a telegram.' + +'A telegram!' said Bridget, suddenly, hurrying forward,--'it must be for +me.' + +She peremptorily held out her hand, and as she did so, Nelly caught +sight of her sister. Startled out of all other thoughts she too made a +step forward. What _was_ wrong with Bridget? The tall, gaunt woman stood +there livid, her eyes staring at Farrell, her hand unsteady as she +thrust it towards him. + +'Give me the telegram, please! I was expecting one,' she said, trying to +speak as usual. + +Farrell turned to her in surprise. + +'But it wasn't for you, Miss Cookson. It was for Mrs. Sarratt. I saw the +address quite plainly. Ah, here they are. How stupid of me! What on +earth made me put them in that pocket.' + +He drew out the letters and the telegram. Bridget said again--'Give it +me, please! I know it's for me!' And she tried to snatch it. Farrell's +face changed. He disliked Bridget Cookson heartily, mainly on Nelly's +account, and her rude persistence nettled a temper accustomed to +command. He quietly put her aside. + +'When your sister has read it, Miss Cookson, she will no doubt let you +see it. As it happens, the post-mistress made me promise to give it to +Mrs. Sarratt myself. She seemed interested--I don't know why.' + +Nelly took it. Farrell--who began to have some strange misgiving--stood +between her and Bridget. Bridget made no further movement. Her eyes were +fixed on Nelly. + +Nelly, bewildered by the little scene and by Bridget's extraordinary +behaviour, tore open the brown envelope, and read slowly--'Please come +at once. Have some news for you. Your sister will explain. Howson, Base +Headquarters, X------, France.' + +'Howson?' said Nelly. Then the colour began to ebb from her face. 'Dr. +Howson?' she repeated. 'What news? What does he mean? _Oh_!'--the cry +rang through the room--'_it's George_!--it's George! he's +found!--he's found!' + +She thrust the telegram piteously into Farrell's hands. He read it, and +turned to Bridget. + +'What does Dr. Howson mean, Miss Cookson, and why does he refer Mrs. +Sarratt to you?' + +For some seconds she could not make her pale lips reply. Finally, she +said--'That's entirely my own affair, Sir William. I shall tell my +sister, of course. But Nelly had better go at once, as Dr. Howson +advises. I'll go and see to things.' + +She turned slowly away. Nelly ran forward and caught her. + +'Oh, Bridget--don't go--you mustn't go! What news is it? Bridget, tell +me!--you couldn't--you _couldn't_ be so cruel--not to tell me--if you +knew anything about George!' + +Bridget stood silent. + +'Oh, what can I do--what can I do?' cried Nelly. + +Then her eyes fell on the letters still in her hand. She tore one +open--and read it--with mingled cries of anguish and joy. Farrell dared +not go near her. There seemed already a gulf between her and him. + +'It's from Miss Eustace'--she said, panting, as she looked up at last, +and handed the letter to him--it's George--he's alive--they've heard +from France--he asks for me--but--but--he's dying.' + +Her head dropped forward a little. She caught at the back of a chair, +nearly fainting. But when Farrell approached her, she put up a hand in +protest. + +'No, no,--I'm all right. But, Bridget, Miss Eustace says--you've +actually _seen_ him--you've been to France. When did you go?' + +'About three weeks ago,' said Bridget, after a moment's pause. 'Oh, of +course I know'--she threw back her head defiantly--'you'll all set on +me--you'll all blame me. But I suppose I may be mistaken like anybody +else--mayn't I? I didn't think the man I saw was George--I didn't! And +what was the good of disturbing your mind?' + +But as she told the lie, she told it so lamely and unconvincingly that +neither of the other two believed it for a moment. Nelly stood +up--tottering--but mistress of herself. She looked at Farrell. + +'Sir William--can you take me to Windermere, for the night-train? I know +when it goes--10.20. I'll be ready--by nine.' She glanced at the clock, +which was just nearing seven. + +'Of course,' said Farrell, taking up his hat. 'I'll go and see to the +motor. But'--he looked at her with entreaty--'you can't go this long +journey alone!' + +The words implied a bitter consciousness that his own escort was +impossible. Nelly did not notice it. She only said impatiently-- + +'But, of course, I must go alone.' + +She stood silent--mastering the agony within--forcing herself to think +and will. When the pause was over, she said quietly--'I will be quite +ready at nine.' And then mechanically--'It's very good of you.' + +He went away, passing Bridget, who stood with one foot on the fender, +staring down into the fire. + +When the outer door had closed upon him, Nelly looked at her sister. She +was trembling all over. + +'Bridget--_why_ did you do it?' The voice was low and full of horror. + +'What do you mean? I made a mistake--that's all!' + +'Bridget--you _knew_ it was George! You couldn't be mistaken. Miss +Eustace says--in the letter'--she pointed to it--'they asked you about +his hands. Do you remember how you used to mock at them?' + +'As if one could remember after a year and a half!' + +'No, you couldn't forget, Bridget--a thing like that--I know you +couldn't. And what made you do it! Did you think I had forgotten +George?' + +At that the tears streamed down her face, unheeded. She approached her +sister piteously. + +'Bridget, tell me what he looked like! Did you speak to him--did you see +his eyes open? Oh my poor George!--and I here--never thinking of +him'--she broke off incoherently, twisting her hands. 'Miss Eustace says +he was wounded in two places--severely--that she's afraid there's no +hope. Did they say that to you, Bridget--tell me!--for Heaven's sake +tell me!' + +'You'll make yourself ill,' said Bridget harshly. 'You'd better lie +down, and let me pack for you.' + +Nelly laughed out. + +'As if I'd ever let you do anything for me any more! No, that's done +with. You've been so accustomed to manage me all these years. You +thought you could manage me now--you thought you could let George +die--and I should never know--and you'd make me marry--William Farrell. +Bridget--_I hate you!'_ + +She broke off, shivering, but resumed almost at once--'I see it all--I +think I see it all. And now it's all done for between you and me. If +George dies, I shall never come back to live with you again. You'd +better make plans, Bridget. It's over for ever.' + +'You don't know what you're saying, now,' said Bridget, coldly. + +Nelly did not hear her, she was lost in a whirl of images and thoughts. +And governed by them she went up to Bridget again, thrusting her small +white face under her sister's eyes. + +'What sort of a room was he in, Bridget? Who was nursing him? Are you +sure he didn't know you? Did you call him by his name? Did you make him +understand?' + +'He knew nobody,' said Bridget, drawing back, against her will, before +the fire in Nelly's wild eyes. 'He was in a very good room. There was a +nurse sitting with him.' + +'Was he--was he very changed?' + +'Of course he was. If not, I should have known him.' + +Nelly half smiled. Bridget could never have thought that soft mouth +capable of so much scorn. But no words came. Then Nelly walked away to a +drawer where she kept her accounts, her cheque-book, and any loose money +she might be in possession of. She took out her cheque-book and some two +or three pounds that lay there. + +'If you want money, I can lend you some,' said Bridget, catching at the +old note of guardianship. + +'Thank you. But I shall not want it.' + +'Nelly, don't be a fool!' said Bridget, stung at last into speech. +'Suppose all you think is true--I don't admit it, mind--but suppose it's +true. How was I doing such a terrible wrong to you?--in the eyes, I +mean, of sensible people--in not disturbing your mind. Nobody +expected--that man I saw--to know anybody again--or to live more than a +few days. Even if I had been certain--and how could I be +certain?--wasn't it _reasonable_ to weigh one thing against another? You +know very well--it's childish to ignore it--what's been going on +here----' + +But she paused. Nelly, writing a letter, was not apparently concerned +with anything Bridget had been saying. It did not seem to have reached +her ears. A queer terror shot through Bridget. But she dismissed it. As +if Nelly could ever really get on without her. Little, feckless, +sentimental thing! + +Nelly finished her letter and put it up. + +'I have written to Sir William's agent, Bridget'--she said turning +towards her sister--'to say that I give up the farm. I shall pay the +servant. Hester will look after my things, and send them--when I want +them.' + +'Why Hester?' said Bridget, with something of a sneer. + +Nelly did not answer. She put up her letter, took the money and the +cheque-book and went out of the room. Bridget heard her call their one +servant, Mrs. Dowson, and presently steps ascended the stairs and +Nelly's door shut. The sound of the shutting door roused in her again +that avenging terror. Her first impulse was to go and force herself +into Nelly's room, so as to manage and pack for her as usual. But +something stopped her. She consoled herself by going down to the kitchen +to look after the supper. Nelly, of course, must have some food before +her night journey. + +Behind that shut door, Nelly was looking into the kind weather-beaten +face of Mrs. Dowson. + +'Mrs. Dowson, I'm going away to-night--and I'm not coming back. Sir +William knows.' + +Then she caught the woman's gnarled hands, and her own features began to +work. + +'Mrs. Dowson, they've found my husband! Did Sir William tell you? He's +not dead--he's alive--But he's very, very ill.' + +'Oh, you poor lamb!' cried Mrs. Dowson. 'No--Sir William tellt me nowt. +The Lord be gracious to you!' Bathed in sudden tears, she kissed one of +the hands that held hers, pouring out incoherent words of hope. But +Nelly did not cry, and presently she said firmly-- + +'Now, please, you must help me to pack. Sir William will be here at +nine.' + +Presently all was ready. Nelly had hunted out an old grey travelling +dress in which George had often seen her, and a grey hat with a veil. +She hastily put all her black clothes aside. + +'Miss Martin will send me anything I want. I have asked her to come and +fetch my things.' + +'But Miss Cookson will be seein' to that!' said Mrs. Dowson wondering. +Nelly made no reply. She locked her little box, and then stood upright, +looking round the small room. She seemed to be saying 'Good-bye' for +ever to the Nelly who had lived, and dreamed, and prayed there. She was +going to George--that was all she knew. + +Downstairs, Bridget was standing at the door of the little dining-room. +'I have put out some cold meat for you,' she said, stiffly. 'You won't +get anything for a long time.' + +Nelly acquiesced. She drank some tea, and ate as much as she could. +Neither she nor Bridget spoke, till Bridget, who was at the window +looking out into the snow, turned round to say--'Here's the motor.' + +Nelly rose, and tied her veil on closely. Mrs. Dowson brought her a +thick coat, which had been part of her trousseau, and wrapped her in it. + +'You had better take your grey shawl,' said Bridget. + +'I have it here, Miss,' said Mrs. Dowson, producing it. 'I'll put it +over her in the motor.' + +She disappeared to open the door to Sir William's knock. + +Nelly turned to her sister. + +'Good-bye, Bridget.' + +Bridget flamed out. + +'And you don't mean to write to me? You mean to carry out this absurd +plan of separation!' + +'I don't know what I shall do--till I have seen George,' said Nelly +steadily. 'He'll settle for me. Only you and I are not sisters any +more.' + +Bridget shrugged her shoulders, with some angry remark about 'theatrical +nonsense.' Nelly went out into the passage, threw her arms about Mrs. +Dowson's neck, for a moment, and then hurried out towards the car. It +stood there in the falling snow, its bright lights blazing on the bit of +Westmorland wall opposite, and the overhanging oaks, still heavy with +dead leaf. Farrell was standing at the door, holding a fur rug. He and +Mrs. Dowson tucked it in round Nelly's small cloaked figure. + +Then without a word, Farrell shut the door of the car, and took the seat +beside the driver. In another minute Bridget was watching the lights of +the lamps rushing along the sides of the lane, till at a sharp bend of +the road it disappeared. + +There was a break presently in the snow-fall, and as they reached the +shores of Windermere, Nelly was aware of struggling gleams of moonlight +on steely water. The anguish in her soul almost resented the break in +the darkness. She was going to George; but George was dying, and while +he had been lying there in his lonely suffering, she had been forgetting +him, and betraying him. The recollection of Farrell's embrace +overwhelmed her with a crushing sense of guilt. George indeed should +never know. But that made no difference to her own misery. + +The miles flew by. She began to think of her journey, to realise her +helplessness and inexperience in the practical things of life. She must +get her passport, and some money. Who would advise her, and tell her how +to get to France under war conditions? Would she be allowed to go by the +short sea passage? For that she knew a special permit was necessary. +Could she get it at once, or would she be kept waiting in town? The +notion of having to wait one unnecessary hour tortured her. Then her +thoughts fastened on Miss Eustace of the Enquiry Office, who had written +her the letter which had arrived simultaneously with Dr. Howson's +telegram. 'Let me know if I can be of any use to you, for your journey. +If there is anything you want to know that we can help you in, you had +better come straight to this office.' + +Yes, that she would do. But the train arrived in London at 7 A.M. And +she could not possibly see Miss Eustace before ten or eleven. She must +just sit in the waiting-room till it was time. And she must get some +money. She had her cheque-book and would ask Sir William to tell her how +to get a cheque cashed in London. She was ashamed of her own ignorance +in these small practical matters. + +The motor stopped. Sir William jumped down, but before he came to open +the door for her, she saw him turn round and wave his hand to two +persons standing outside the station. They hurried towards the motor, +and as Nelly stepped down from it, she felt herself grasped by eager +hands. + +'You poor darling! I thought we couldn't be in time. But we flew. Don't +trouble about anything. We've done it all.' + +Cicely!--and behind her Marsworth. + +Nelly drew back. + +'Dear Cicely!' she said faintly--'but I can manage--I can manage quite +well.' + +Resistance, however, was useless. Marsworth and Cicely, it seemed, were +going to London with her--Cicely probably to France; and Marsworth had +already telegraphed about her passport. She would have gladly gone by +herself, but she finally surrendered--for George's sake, that she might +get to him the quicker. + +Then everything was done for her. Amid the bustle of the departing +train, she was piteously aware of Farrell, and just before they started, +she leant out to give him her hand. + +'I will tell George all you have done for me,' she said, gulping down a +sob. + +He pressed her hand before releasing it, but said nothing. What was +there to say? Meanwhile, Cicely, to ease the situation, was chattering +hard, describing how Farrell had sent his chauffeur to Ambleside on a +motor bicycle, immediately after leaving Nelly, and so had got a +telephone message through to Cicely. + +'We had the small car out and ready in ten minutes, and, by good luck, +there was a motor-transport man on leave, who had come to see a brother +in the hospital. We laid hands on him, and he drove us here. But it's a +mercy we're not sitting on the Raise! You remember that heap of stones +on the top of the Raise, that thing they say is a barrow--the grave of +some old British party before the Flood?--well, the motor gave out +there! Herbert and the chauffeur sat under it in the snow and worked at +it. I thought the river was coming over the road, and that the wind +would blow us all away. But it'll be all right for your crossing +to-morrow--the storm will have quite gone down. Herbert thinks you'll +start about twelve o'clock,--and you'll be at the camp that same night. +Oh, isn't it wonderful!--isn't it _ripping_?' cried Cicely under her +breath, stooping down to kiss Nelly, while the two men talked at the +carriage window.--'You're going to get him home! We'll have the best men +in London to look after him. He'll pull through, you'll see--he'll pull +through!' + +Nelly sank into a seat and closed her eyes. Cicely's talk--why did she +call Marsworth 'Herbert'?--was almost unbearable to her. _She_ knew +through every vein that she was going across the Channel--to see George +die. If only she were in time!--if only she might hold him in her arms +once more! Would the train never go? + +Farrell, in spite of snow and storm, pushed his way back to Carton that +night. In that long motor drive a man took counsel with himself on whom +the war had laid a chastening and refining hand. The human personality +cannot spend itself on tasks of pity and service without taking the +colour of them, without rising insensibly to the height of them. They +may have been carelessly adopted, or imposed from without. But the mere +doing of them exalts. As the dyer's hand is 'subdued to what it works +in,' so the man that is always about some generous business for his +fellow-men suffers thereby, insensibly, a change, which is part of the +'heavenly alchemy' for ever alive in the world. It was so at any rate +with William Farrell. The two years of his hospital work--hard, honest +grappling with the problems of human pain and its relief--had made a far +nobler man of him. So now, in this solitary hour, he looked his +trouble--courageously, chivalrously--in the face. The crash of all his +immediate hopes was bitter indeed. What matter! Let him think only of +those two poor things about to meet in France. + +As to the future, he was well aware of the emotional depths in Nelly's +nature. George Sarratt's claim upon her life and memory would now be +doubly strong. For, with that long and intimate observation of the war +which his hospital experience had brought him, Farrell was keenly aware +of the merciful fact that the mere distance which, generally speaking, +the war imposes between the man dying on the battle-field and those who +love him at home, inevitably breaks the blow. The nerves of the woman +who loses her husband or her son are, at least, not tortured by the +actual sight of his wounds and death. The suffering is spiritual, and +the tender benumbing touch of religion or patriotism, or the remaining +affections of life, has less to fight with than when the physical senses +themselves are racked with acute memories of bodily wounds and bodily +death. It is not that sorrow is less deep, or memory less tenacious; but +both are less ruinous to the person sorrowing. So, at least, Farrell had +often seen it, among even the most loving and passionate of women. +Nelly's renascence in the quiet Westmorland life had been a fresh +instance of it; and he had good reason for thinking that, but for the +tragic reappearance of George Sarratt, it would not have taken very +long,--a few months more, perhaps--before she would have been persuaded +to let herself love, and be loved again. + +But now, every fibre in her delicate being--physical and +spiritual--would be racked by the sight of Sarratt's suffering and +death. And no doubt--pure, scrupulous little soul!--she would be +tormented by the thought of what had just passed between herself and +him, before the news from France arrived. He might as well look that in +the face. + +Well!--patience and time--there was nothing else to look to. He braced +himself to both, as he sped homeward through the high snowy roads, and +dropped through sleeping Keswick to Bassenthwaite and Carton. Then with +the sight of the hospital, the Red Cross flag drooping above its +doorway, as he drove up to it, the burden and interest of his great +responsibilities returned upon him. He jumped out to say a few cheery +words of thanks to his chauffeur, and went on with a rapid step to his +office on the ground floor, where he found important letters and +telegrams awaiting him. He dealt with them till far into the night. But +the thought of Nelly never really left him; nor that haunting physical +memory of her soft head upon his shoulder. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Of the weary hours which intervened between her meeting with Cicely and +Marsworth at Windermere station and her sight of Dr. Howson on the +rain-beaten quay at Bolougne, Nelly Sarratt could afterwards have given +no clear account. Of all the strings that were pulled, and the exalted +persons invoked, in order to place her as quickly as possible by the +side of her dying husband, she knew practically nothing. Cicely and +Marsworth, with Farrell to help them at the other end of a telegraph +wire, did everything. Passports and special permits were available in a +minimum of time. In the winter dawn at Euston Station, there was the +grey-headed Miss Eustace waiting; and two famous Army doctors journeyed +to Charing Cross a few hours later, on purpose to warn the wife of the +condition in which she was likely to find her husband, and to give her +kindly advice as to how she could help him most. The case had already +made a sensation at the Army Medical Headquarters; the reports on it +from France were being eagerly followed; and when the young wife +appeared from the north, her pathetic beauty quickened the general +sympathy. Nelly's path to France was smoothed in every possible way. No +Royalty could have been more anxiously thought for. + +But she herself realised scarcely anything about it. It was her nature +to be grateful, sweet, responsive; but her gratitude and her sweetness +during these hours were automatic, unconscious. She was the spectator, +so to speak, of a moving picture which carried her on with it, in which +she was merely passive. The crowded boat, the grey misty sea, the +destroyers to right and left, she was aware of them in one connection +only--as part of the process by which she and George were to meet again. + +But at last the boat was alongside the quays of the French port, and +through sheets of rain she saw the lights of a climbing town, and the +gleaming roadways of the docks. Crowds of men in khaki; a park of big +guns, their wet nozzles glittering under the electric lamps overhead; +hundreds of tethered horses; a long line of motor lorries;--the scene to +her was all a vague confusion, as Cicely, efficient and masterful as +usual, made a way for them both along the deck of the steamer through +close ranks of soldiers--a draft waiting their orders to disembark. Then +as they stepped on land, perception sharpened in a moment. A tall man in +khaki--whom she recognised as Dr. Howson--came eagerly forward. + +'Mrs. Sarratt!--I hope you're not too tired. Would you rather get some +food here, in the town, or push on at once?' + +'At once, please. How is he?' + +A pair of kind grey eyes looked down upon her sadly. + +'Very ill, _-very_ ill!--_but_ quite sensible. I know you will be +brave.' + +He carried her along the quay--while Cicely was taken possession of by a +nurse in uniform, who talked rapidly in an undertone. + +'I have two cars,' said Howson to Nelly--'You and I will go first. Our +head Sister, Miss Parrish, who has been in charge of the case for so +long, will bring Miss Farrell.' + +And as they reached the two waiting motors, Nelly found her hand grasped +by a comely elderly woman, in a uniform of grey and red. + +'He was quite comfortable when we left him, Mrs. Sarratt. There's a +wonderful difference, even since yesterday, in his _mind_. He's +beginning to remember everything. He knows you're coming. He said--"Give +her my dear love, and tell her I'm not going to have my supper till she +comes. She shall give it me." Think of that! It's like a miracle. Three +weeks ago, he never spoke, he knew nobody.' + +Nelly's white face trembled, but she said nothing. Howson put her into +the foremost car, and they were soon off, threading their way through +the busy streets of the base, while the Sister followed with Cicely. + +'Oh, it was _cruel_ not to let Mrs. Sarratt know earlier!' said the +Sister indignantly, in answer to a hurried question from Cicely as soon +as they were alone. 'She might have had three weeks with him, and now +there can only be a day or two. What was Miss Cookson about? Even if she +were just mistaken, she might at least have brought her sister over to +see for herself--instead of preventing it by every means in her power. A +most extraordinary woman!' + +Cicely felt her way in reply. She really knew nothing except what +Farrell had been able hurriedly to say to Marsworth at Windermere +station--which had been afterwards handed on to her. Farrell himself was +entirely mystified. 'The only motive I can suggest'--he had said to +Marsworth--'is that Miss Cookson had an insane dislike of her +brother-in-law. But, even so, why did she do it?' + +Why, indeed? Cicely now heard the whole story from her companion; and +her shrewd mind very soon began to guess at reasons. She had always +observed Bridget's complaisance towards her brother, and even towards +herself--a clumsy complaisance which had never appealed at all either to +her or him. And she had noticed many small traits and incidents that +seemed to shew that Bridget had resented her sister's marriage, and felt +bitterly that Nelly might have done far better for herself. Also that +there was a strong taste for personal luxury in Bridget, which seemed +entirely lacking in Nelly. + +'She wanted Willy's money!'--thought Cicely--'and couldn't get it for +herself. So when poor Sarratt disappeared, she saw a way of getting it +through Nelly. Not a bad idea!--if you are to have ideas of that kind. +But then, why behave like an idiot when Providence had done the thing +for you?' + +That was really the puzzle. George Sarratt was dying. Why not let poor +Nelly have her last weeks with him in peace, and then--in time--marry +her safely and lawfully to Willy? + +But Cicely had again some inkling of Bridget's probable reply. She had +not been intimate with Nelly for more than a year without realising that +she was one of those creatures--so rare in our modern world--who do in +truth live and die by their affections. The disappearance of her husband +had very nearly killed her. In the first winter after he was finally +reported as 'Missing--believed killed,' and when she had really +abandoned hope, the slightest accident--a bad chill--an attack of +childish illness--any further shock--might have slit the thin-spun life +in a few days or weeks. The Torquay doctor had told Hester that she was +on the brink of tuberculosis, and if she were exposed to infection would +certainly develop it. Since then she had gained greatly in vitality and +strength. If only Fate had left her alone! 'With happiness and Willy, +she'd have been all right!' thought Cicely, who was daily accustomed to +watch the effect of mind on body in her brother's hospital. But now, +with this fresh and deeper tragedy before her--tearing at the poor +little heart--crushing the life again out of the frail being--why, the +prospects of a happy ending were decidedly less. The odious Bridget +might after all have acted intelligibly, though abominably. + +As to the history of Sarratt's long disappearance, Cicely found that +very little was known. + +'We don't question him,' said the Sister. 'It only exhausts him; and it +wouldn't be any good. He may tell his wife something more, of his own +accord, but we doubt whether he knows much more than he told Dr. Howson. +He remembers being wounded at Loos--lying out undiscovered, he thinks +for two days--then a German hospital--and a long, long journey. And +that's practically all. But just lately--this week, actually!--Dr. +Howson has got some information, through a family of peasants living +near Cassel, behind the British lines. They have relations across the +Belgian border, and gradually they have discovered who the man was who +came over the frontier with Mr. Sarratt. He came from a farm, somewhere +between Brussels and Courtrai, and now they've managed to get a letter +through from his brother. You know the man himself was shot just as they +reached the British lines. But this letter really tells a good deal. The +brother says that they found Mr. Sarratt almost dead,--and, as they +thought, insane--in a wood near their house. He was then wearing the +uniform of a British officer. They guessed he was an escaped prisoner, +and they took him in and hid him. Then news filtered through to them of +two English officers who had made their escape from a hospital train +somewhere south-west of Brussels; one slightly wounded, and one +severely; the severely wounded man suffering also from shell-shock. And +the slightly wounded man was shot, while the other escaped. The train, +it was said, was lying in a siding at the time--at the further edge of +the forest bordering their farm. So, of course, they identified the man +discovered by them as the severely wounded officer. Mr. Sarratt must +have somehow just struggled through to their side of the forest, where +they found him. + +'What happened then, we can't exactly trace. He must have been there all +the winter. He was deaf and dumb, from nerve-shock, and could give no +account of himself at all. The men of the farm, two unmarried sons, were +good to him, but their old mother, whose family was German, always hated +his being there. She was in terror of the German military police who +used to ride over the farm, and one day, when her sons were away, she +took Mr. Sarratt's uniform, his identification disk, and all the +personal belongings she could find, and either burned or buried them. +The sons, who were patriotic Belgians, were however determined to +protect him, and no doubt there may have been some idea of a reward, if +they could find his friends. But they were afraid of their tyrannical +old mother, and of what she might do. So at last they made up their +minds to try somehow and get him over the French frontier, which was +not far off, and through the German lines. One of the brothers, whose +name was Benoit Desalles, to whom they say poor Mr. Sarratt was much +attached, went with him. They must have had an awful time, walking by +night, and hiding by day. Mr. Sarratt's wounds must have been in a bad +state, for they were only half healed when he escaped, and they had been +neglected all the winter. So how he dragged himself the distance he did, +the doctors can't imagine. And the peasants near the frontier from whom +we have got what information we have, have no knowledge at all of how he +and his Belgian guide finally got through the German lines. But when +they reached our lines, they were both, as Dr. Howson wrote to Miss +Cookson, in German uniforms. His people suppose that Benoit had stripped +some German dead, and that in the confusion caused in the German +line--at a point where it ran through a Belgian village--by a British +raid, at night, they got across the enemy trenches. And no doubt Benoit +had local knowledge which helped. + +'Then in the No Man's Land, between the lines, they were under both +shell and rifle-fire, till it was seen by our men that Benoit had his +hands up, and that the other was wounded. The poor Belgian was dragging +Mr. Sarratt who was unconscious, and at last--wasn't it ill-luck?--just +as our men were pulling them into the trench, Benoit was shot through +the head by a German sniper. That, at least, is how we now reconstruct +the story. As far as Mr. Sarratt is concerned, we let it alone. We have +no heart to worry him. Poor fellow--poor, gallant, patient fellow!' + +And the Sister's strong face softened, as Bridget had seen it soften at +Sarratt's bedside. + +'And there is really no hope for him?' asked Cicely after a time. The +Sister shook her head. + +'The wounds have never healed--and they drain his life away. The heart +can't last out much longer. But he's not in pain now--thank God! It's +just weakness. I assure you, everybody--almost--in this huge camp, asks +for him and many--pray for him.' The Sister's eyes filled with tears. +'And now that the poor wife's come in time, there'll be an excitement! I +heard two men in one of our wards discussing it this morning. "They do +say as Mrs. Sarratt will be here to-day," said one of them. "Well, +that's a bit of all right, ain't it?" said the other, and they both +smoked away, looking as pleased as Punch. You see Miss Cookson's +behaviour has made the whole thing so extraordinary.' + +Cicely agreed. + +'I suppose she thought it would be all over in a day or two,' she said, +half-absently. + +The Sister looked puzzled. + +'And that it would be better not to risk the effect on his wife? Of +course Mrs. Sarratt does look dreadfully delicate. So you _don't_ think +it was a mistake? It's very difficult to see how it could be! The hands +alone--one would think that anybody who really knew him must have +recognised them.' + +Cicely said no more. But she wondered how poor Nelly and her sister +would ever find it possible to meet again. + +Meanwhile, in the car ahead, Howson was gently and tenderly preparing +the mind of Nelly for her husband's state. He described to her also, the +first signs of Sarratt's returning consciousness--the excitement among +his doctors and nurses--the anxious waiting for the first words--the +first clear evidence of restored hearing. And then, at last, the dazed +question--'Where am I?'--and the perplexed effort to answer +Howson's--'Can you tell us your name and regiment?' + +Howson described the breathless waiting of himself and another doctor, +and then the slow coming of the words: 'My name is George Sarratt, +Lieutenant, 21st Lanchesters. But why----?' + +A look of bewilderment at nurses and doctors, and then again--sleep. + +'The next time he spoke, it was quite distinctly and of his own accord. +The nurse heard him saying softly--it was in the early morning--"I want +my wife--send for her." She told him you had been already sent for, and +he turned his head round at once and went to sleep.' + +Howson could hardly go on, so keenly did he realise the presence of the +woman beside him. The soft fluttering breath unmanned him. But by +degrees Nelly heard all there was to know; especially the details of +the rapid revival of hearing, speech, and memory, which had gone on +through the preceding three days. + +'And what is such a blessing,' said Howson, with the cheerfulness of the +good doctor--'is that he seems to be quite peaceful--quite at rest. He's +not unhappy. He's just waiting for you. They'll have given him an +injection of strychnine this evening to help him through.' + +'How long?' The words were just breathed into the darkness. + +'A day or two certainly--perhaps a week,' he said reluctantly. 'It's a +question of strength. Sometimes it lasts much longer than we expect.' + +He said nothing to her of her sister's visit. Instinctively he suspected +some ugly meaning in that story. And Nelly asked no questions. + +Suddenly, she was aware of lights in the darkness, and then of a great +camp marked out in a pattern of electric lamps, stretching up and away +over what seemed a wide and sloping hillside. Nelly put down the window +to see. + +'Is it here?' 'No. A little further on.' + +It seemed to her interminably further. The car rattled over the rough +pavement of a town, then through the darkness of woods--threading its +way through a confusion of pale roads--until, with a violent bump, it +came to a stop. + +In the blackness of the November night, the chauffeur, mistaking the +entrance to a house, had run up a back lane and into a sand-bank. + +'Do you hear the sea?' said Howson, as he helped Nelly to alight. +'There'll be wind to-night. But here we are.' + +She looked round her as they walked through a thin wood. To her right +beyond the bare trees was a great building with a glass front. She could +see lights within--the passing figures of nurses--rows of beds--and men +in bed jackets--high rooms frescoed in bright colours. + +'That used to be the Casino. Now it's a Red Cross Hospital. There are +always doctors there. So when we moved him away from the camp, we took +this little house close to the Hospital. The senior surgeon there can be +often in and out. He's looking after him splendidly.' + +A small room in a small house, built for summer lodgings by the sea; +bare wooden walls and floor; a stove; open windows through which came +the slow boom of waves breaking on a sandy shore; a bed, and in it an +emaciated figure, propped up. + +Nelly, as the door closed behind her, broke into a run like the soft +flight of a bird, and fell on her knees beside the bed. She had taken +off her hat and cloak. Excitement had kindled two spots of red in her +pale cheeks. The man in the bed turned his eyes towards her, and smiled. + +'Nelly!' + +Howson and the Sister went on tiptoe through a side door into another +room. + +'Kiss me, Nelly!' + +Nelly, trembling, put her soft lips to his. But as she did so, a chill +anguish struck her--the first bitterness of the naked truth. As yet she +had only seen it through a veil, darkly. Was this her George--this +ghost, grey-haired, worn out, on the brink of the unknown? The old +passionate pressure of the mouth gone--for ever! Her young husband--her +young lover--she saw him far back in the past, on Rydal lake, the +dripping oars in his hand. This was a spirit which touched her--a +spiritual love which shone upon her. And she had never yet known so +sharp an agony. + +So sharp it was that it dried all tears. She knelt there with his hands +in hers, kissing them, and gazing at him. + +'Nelly, it's hard luck! Darling, I'd better have been patient. In time, +perhaps, I should have come back to you. How I got away--who planned +it--I don't remember. I remember nothing--of all that time. But Howson +has heard something, through some people near Cassel--has he told you?' + +'Yes--but don't try to remember.' + +He smiled at her. How strange the old sweetness on these grey lips! + +'Have you missed me--dreadfully? Poor little Nelly! You're very pale--a +little shadow! Darling!--I _would_ like to live!' + +And at that--at last--the eyes of both, as they gazed at each other, +filled with tears. Tears for the eternal helplessness of man,--the +'tears of things.' + +But he roused himself, snatching still at a little love, a little +brightness--before the dark. The strychnine injected had given him +strength. + +'Give me that jelly--and the champagne. Feed me, Nelly! But have you had +any food?' + +The stress laid on the '_you_' the tone of his voice, were so like his +old self that Nelly caught her breath. A ray of mad hope stole in. She +began to feed him, and as she did so, the Sister, as though she had +heard Sarratt's question, came quietly in with a tray on which was some +food for Nelly, and put it down beside her. Then she disappeared again. + +With difficulty, Sarratt swallowed a few mouthfuls of jelly and +champagne. Then his left hand--the right was helpless--made a faint but +peremptory sign, and Nelly obediently took some food under his dimly +smiling eyes. + +'I have thought of this so often,' he murmured--I knew you'd come. It's +been like someone walking through a dark passage that was getting +lighter. Only once--I had a curious dream. I thought I saw Bridget' + +Nelly, trembling, took away his tray and her own, and then knelt down +again beside him. She kissed his forehead, and tried to divert his +thoughts by asking him if he was warm enough. His hands were very cold. +Should she make up the fire? + +'Oh, no,--it's all right. But wasn't it strange? Suddenly, I seemed to +be looking at her--quite close--and she at me. And I was worried because +I had seen her more distinctly than I could remember you. Come +nearer--put your dear head against me. Oh, if I could only hold you, as +I used to!' + +There was silence a little. But the wine had flushed him, and when the +bloodless lids lifted again, there was more life in the eyes. + +'Nelly, poor darling, have you been very lonely?--Were the Farrells kind +to you?' + +'Yes, George, very kind. They did everything--everything they could.' + +'Sir William promised me'--he said, gratefully. 'And where have you been +all the time? At Rydal?' + +'No. I was ill--after the news came----' + +'Poor Nelly!' + +'And Sir William lent us one of his farms--near his cottage--do you +remember?' + +'A little. That was kind of him--very kind. Nelly--I want to send him a +message----' + +'Yes.' + +'Give him my grateful thanks, darling,--and--and--my blessing.' + +Nelly hid her face against him, and he felt the convulsion of tearless +sobbing that passed through her. + +'Poor Nelly!'--he said again, touching her hand tenderly. Then after +another pause--'Sit there, darling, where I can see you--your dear head, +and your eyes, and your pretty neck. You must go to bed soon, you +know--but just a little while! Now tell me what you have been doing. +Talk to me. I won't talk. I'll rest--but I shall hear. That's so +wonderful--that I _can_ hear you. I've been living in such a queer +world--no tongue--no ears--no mind, hardly--only my eyes.' + +She obeyed him by a great effort. She talked to him--of what, she hardly +knew!--about her months in London and Torquay--: about her illness--the +farm--Hester Martin--and Cicely. + +When she came to speak of her friendship with Cicely, he smiled in +surprise, his eyes still shut. + +'That's jolly, dearest. You remember, I didn't like her. She wasn't at +all nice to you--once. But thank her for me--please.' + +'She's here now, George, she brought me here. She wouldn't let me come +alone.' + +'God bless her!' he said, under his breath. 'I'll see her--to-morrow. +Now go on talking. You won't mind if I go to sleep? They won't let you +stop here, dear. You'll be upstairs. But you'll come early--won't you?' + +They gave him morphia, and he went to sleep under her eyes. Then the +night nurse came in, and the surgeon from the hospital opposite, with +Howson. And Cicely took Nelly away. + +Cicely had made everything ready in the little bare room upstairs. But +when she had helped Nelly to undress, she did not linger. + +'Knock on the wall, if you want me. It is only wood, I shall hear +directly.' + +Nelly kissed her and she went. For nothing in her tender service that +day was Nelly more grateful to her. + +Then Nelly put out her light, and drawing up the blind, she sat for long +staring into the moonlight night. The rain had stopped, but the wind was +high over the sea, which lay before her a tumbled mass of waves, not a +hundred yards away. To her right was the Casino, a subdued light shining +through the blinds of its glass verandahs, behind which she sometimes +saw figures passing--nurses and doctors on their various errands. Were +there men dying there to-night--like her George? + +The anguish that held her, poor child, was no simple sorrow. Never--she +knew it doubly now--had she ceased to love her husband. She had told +Farrell the truth--'If George now were to come in at that door, there +would be no other man in the world for me!' And yet, while George was +dying, and at the very moment that he was asking for her, she had been +in Farrell's arms, and yielding to his kisses. George would never know; +but that only made her remorse the more torturing. She could never +confess to him--that indeed was her misery. He would die, and her +unfaith would stand between them for ever. + +A cleverer, a more experienced, a more practical woman, in such a case, +would have found a hundred excuses and justifications for herself that +never occurred to Nelly Sarratt, to this young immature creature, in +whom the passionate love of her marriage had roused feelings and +emotions, which, when the man on whom they were spent was taken from +her, were still the master-light of all her seeing--still so strong and +absorbing, that, in her widowed state, they were like blind forces +searching unconsciously for some new support, some new thing to love. +She had nearly died for love--and then when her young strength revived +it had become plain that she could only live for love. Her hands had met +the hands seeking hers, inevitably, instinctively. To refuse, to stand +aloof, to cause pain--that had been the torment, the impossibility, for +one who had learnt so well how to give and to make happy. There was in +it no sensual element--only Augustine's 'love of loving.' Yet her +stricken conscience told her that, in her moral indecision, if the +situation had lasted much longer, she had not been able to make up her +mind to marry Farrell quickly, she might easily have become his +mistress, through sheer weakness, sheer dread of his suffering, sheer +longing to be loved. + +Explanations and excuses, for any more seasoned student of human nature, +emerged on every hand. Nelly in her despair allowed herself none of +them. It merely seemed to her, in this night vigil, that she was +unworthy to touch her George, to nurse him, to uphold him; utterly +unworthy of all this reverent pity and affection that was being lavished +upon her for his sake. + +She sat up most of the night, wrapped in her fur cloak, alive to any +sound from the room below. And about four in the morning, she stole down +the stairs to listen at his door. There one of the nurses found her, and +moved with pity, brought her in. They settled her in an arm-chair near +him; and then with the tardy coming of the November day, she watched the +sad waking that was so many hours nearer death, at that moment when +man's life is at its wretchedest, and all the forces of the underworld +seem to be let loose upon it. + +And there, for five days and nights, with the briefest possible +intervals for food, and the sleep of exhaustion, she sat beside him. She +was dimly conscious of the people about her, of the boundless tenderness +and skill that was poured out upon the poor sufferer at her side; she +did everything for George that the nurses could shew her how to do--; it +was the one grain of personal desire left in her, and doctors and nurses +developed the most ingenious pity in devising things for her to do, and +in letting every remedy that soothed his pain, or cleared his mind, go, +as far as possible, through her hands. And there were moments when she +would walk blindly along the sea beach with Cicely, finding a stimulus +to endure in the sharpness of the winter wind, or looking in vague +wonder at the great distant camp, with its streets of hospitals, its +long lines of huts, its training-grounds, and the bodies of men at work +upon them. Here, the war came home to her, as a vast machine by which +George, like millions of others, had been caught and crushed. She +shuddered to think of it. + +At intervals Sarratt still spoke a good deal, though rarely after their +third day together. He asked her once--'Dear, did you ever send for my +letter?' She paused a moment to think. 'You mean the letter you left for +me--in case?' He made a sign of assent, and then smiled into the face +bending over him. 'Read it again, darling. I mean it all now, as I did +then.' She could only kiss him softly--without tears. After the first +day she never cried. + +On the last night of his life, when she thought that all speech was +over, and that she would never hear his voice, or see a conscious look, +again, he opened his eyes suddenly, and she heard--'I love you, +sweetheart! I love you, sweetheart!' twice over. That was the last +sound. Towards midnight he died. + +Next morning Cicely wrote to Farrell:-- + +'We are coming home to-morrow after they bury him in the cemetery here. +Please get Hester--_whatever she may be doing_--to throw it up, and come +and meet us. She is the only person who can help Nelly now for a bit +Nelly pines for Rydal--where they were together. She would go to +Hester's cottage. Tell Hester. + +'Why, old boy, do such things happen? That's what I keep asking--not +being a saint, like these dear nurses here, who really have been +angelic. I am the only one who rebels. George Sarratt was so patient--so +terribly patient! And Nelly is just crushed--for the moment, though I +sometimes expect to see a strange energy in her before long. But I keep +knocking my head all day, and part of the night--the very small part +that I'm not asleep--against the questions that everybody seems to have +asked since the world began--and I know that I am a fool, and go on +doing it. + +'George Sarratt, I think, was a simple Christian, and died like one. He +seemed to like the Chaplain, which was a comfort. How much any of that +means to Nelly I don't know.' + +She also wrote to Marsworth:-- + +'Meet us, please, at Charing Cross. I have no spirit to answer your last +letters as they deserve. But I give you notice that I don't thrive on +too sweet a diet--and praise is positively bad for me. It wrinkles me up +the wrong way. + +'What can be done about that incredible sister? She ought to know that +Nelly is determined not to see her. Just think!--they might have had +nearly a month together, and she cut it down to five days! + +('Dear Herbert, say anything you like, and the sweeter the better!) + +'Yours, + +'CICELY.' + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +'Well--what news?' said Farrell abruptly. For Cicely had come into his +library with a letter in her hand. The library was a fine +eighteenth-century room still preserved intact amid the general +appropriation of the big house by the hospital, and when he was not busy +in his office, it was his place of refuge. + +Cicely perched herself on the edge of his writing-table. + +'Hester has brought her to Rydal all right,' she said cheerfully. + +'How is she?' + +'As you might expect. But Hester says she talks of nothing but going to +work. She has absolutely set her heart upon it, and there is no moving +her.' + +'It is, of course, an absurdity,' said Farrell, frowning. + +'Absurdity or not, she means to do it, and Hester begs that nobody will +try to persuade her against it. She has promised Hester to stay with her +for three weeks, and then she has already made her arrangements.' + +'What is she going to do?' + +'She is going to a hospital near Manchester. They want a V.A.D. +housemaid.' + +Farrell rose impatiently, and stretching out his hand for his pipe, +began to pace the room, steeped evidently in disagreeable reflection. + +'You know as well as I do'--he said at last--that she hasn't the +physical strength for it.' + +'Well then she'll break down, and we can put her to bed. But try she +will, and I entirely approve of it,' said Cicely firmly. 'Hard physical +work--till you drop--till you're so tired, you must go to sleep--that's +the only thing when you're as miserable as poor Nelly. You know it is, +Will. Don't you remember that poor Mrs. Henessy whose son died here? Her +letters to me afterwards used to be all about scrubbing. If she could +scrub from morning till night, she could just get along. She scrubbed +herself sane again. The bigger the floor, the better she liked it. When +bedtime came, she just slept like a log. And at last she got all right. +But it was touch-and-go when she left here.' + +'She was a powerfully-built woman,' said Farrell gloomily. + +'Oh, well, it isn't always the strapping ones that come through. Anyway, +old boy, I'm afraid you can't do anything to alter it.' + +She looked at him a little askance. It was perfectly understood between +them that Cicely was more or less acquainted with her brother's plight, +and since her engagement to Marsworth had been announced it was +astonishing how much more ready Farrell had been to confide in her, and +she to be confided in. + +But for her few days in France, however, with Nelly Sarratt, Marsworth +might still have had some wrestles to go through with Cicely. At the +very moment when Farrell's telephone message arrived, imploring her to +take charge of Nelly on her journey, Cicely was engaged in fresh +quarrelling with her long-suffering lover. But the spectacle of +Sarratt's death, and Nelly's agony, together with her own quick +divination of Nelly's inner mind, had worked profoundly on Cicely, and +Marsworth had never shewn himself a better fellow than in his complete +sympathy with her, and his eager pity for the Sarratts. 'I haven't the +heart to tease him'--Cicely had said candidly after her return to +England. 'He's been so horribly nice to me!' And the Petruchio having +once got the upper hand, the Katherine was--like her prototype--almost +overdoing it. The corduroy trousers, Russian boots, the flame-coloured +jersey actually arrived. Cicely looked at them wistfully and locked them +up. As to the extravagances that still remained, in hats, or skirts, or +head-dressing, were they to be any further reduced, Marsworth would +probably himself implore her not to be too suddenly reasonable. For, +without them, Cicely would be only half Cicely. + +But his sister's engagement, perhaps, had only made Farrell feel more +sharply than ever the collapse of his own hopes. Three days after +Sarratt's death Nelly had written to him to give him George's dying +message, and to thank him on her own account for all that he had done +to help her journey. The letter was phrased as Nelly could not help +phrasing anything she wrote. Cicely, to whom Nelly dumbly shewed it, +thought it 'sweet.' But on Farrel's morbid state, it struck like ice, +and he had the greatest difficulty in writing a letter of sympathy, such +as any common friend must send her, in return. Every word seemed to him +either too strong or too weak. The poor Viking, indeed, had begun to +look almost middle-aged, and Cicely with a pang had discovered or +fancied some streaks of grey in the splendid red beard and curly hair. +At the same time her half-sarcastic sense perceived that he was far +better provided than Nelly, with the means of self-protection against +his trouble. 'Men always are,' thought Cicely--'they have so much more +interesting things to do.' And she compared the now famous hospital, +with its constant scientific developments, the ever-changing and +absorbing spectacle of the life within it, and Farrell's remarkable +position amid its strenuous world--with poor Nelly's 'housemaiding.' + +But Nelly was choosing the path that suited her own need, and in the +spiritual world, the humblest means may be the best. It was when she was +cooking for her nuns that some of St. Teresa's divinest ecstasies came +upon her! Not that there was any prospect of ecstasy for Nelly Sarratt. +She seemed to herself to be engaged in a kind of surgery--the cutting or +burning away of elements in herself that she had come to scorn. Hester, +who was something of a saint herself, came near to understanding her. +Cicely could only wonder. But Hester perceived, with awe, a _fierceness_ +in Nelly--a kind of cruelty--towards herself, with which she knew well, +from a long experience of human beings, that it was no use to argue. The +little, loving, easy-going thing had discovered in her own gentleness +and weakness, the source of something despicable--that is, of her own +failure to love George as steadfastly and truly as he had loved her. The +whole memory of her marriage was poisoned for her by this bitter sense +that in little more than a year after she had lost him, while he was +actually still alive, and when the law even, let alone the highest +standards of love, had not released her, she had begun to yield to the +wooing of another man. Perhaps only chance, under all the difficult +circumstances of her intimacy with Farrell, had saved her from a +shameful yielding--from dishonour, as well as a broken faith. + +'What had brought it about?'--she asked herself. And she asked it with a +desperate will, determined to probe her own sin to the utmost. 'Soft +living!'--was her own reply--moral and physical indolence. The pleasure +of being petted and spoiled, the readiness to let others work for her, +and think for her, what people called her 'sweetness!' She turned upon +it with a burning hatred and contempt. She would scourge it out of +herself. And then perhaps some day she would be able to think of +George's last faint words with something else than remorseful +anguish--_ love you, sweetheart!--I love you, sweetheart!'_ + +During the three weeks, however, that she was with Hester, she was very +silent. She clung to Hester without words, and with much less than her +usual caressingness. She found--it was evident--a certain comfort in +solitary walks, in the simple talk of Mrs. Tyson, and 'Father Time,' who +came to see her, and scolded her for her pale cheeks with a +disrespectful vigour which brought actually a smile to her eyes. Tommy +was brought over to see her; and she sat beside him, while he lay on the +floor drawing Hoons and Haggans, at a great rate, and brimful of fresh +adventures in 'Jupe.' But he was soon conscious that his old playfellow +was not the listener she had been; and he presently stole away with a +wistful look at her. + +One evening early in December, Hester coming in from marketing in +Ambleside, found Nelly, sitting by the fire, a book open on her knee, so +absorbed in thought that she had not heard her friend's entrance. Yet +her lips seemed to be moving. Hester came softly, and knelt down beside +her. + +'Darling, I have been such a long time away!' + +Nelly drew a deep breath. + +'Oh, no I--I--I've been thinking,' + +Hester looked at the open book, and saw that it was 'The Letters of St. +Ignatius'--a cheap copy, belonging to a popular theological 'Library,' +she herself had lately bought. + +'Did that interest you, Nelly?' she asked, wondering. + +'Some of it'--said Nelly, flushing a little. And after a moment's +hesitation, she pointed to a passage under her hand:--'For I fear your +love, lest it injure me, for it is easy to do what you will; but it is +difficult for me to attain unto God, if ye insist on sparing me.' + +And suddenly Hester remembered that before going out she had entreated +Nelly to give herself another fortnight's rest before going to +Manchester. It would then be only six weeks since her husband's death. +'And if you break down, dear,'--she had ventured--'it won't only be +trouble to you--but to them '--meaning the hospital authorities. +Whereupon for the first time since her return, Nelly's eyes had filled +with tears. But she made no reply, and Hester had gone away uneasy. + +'Why will you be so hard on yourself?' she murmured, taking the lovely +childish face in her two hands and kissing it. + +Nelly gently released herself, and pointed again, mutely, to a passage +further on--the famous passage in which the saint, already in the +ecstasy of martyrdom, appeals again to the Christian church in Rome, +whether he is bound, not to save him from the wild beasts of the arena. +'I entreat you, shew not unto me an unseasonable love! Suffer me to be +the food of wild beasts, through whom it is allowed me to attain unto +God. I am the corn of God; let me be ground by the teeth of the wild +beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of Christ.... Pardon me in +this. I know what is expedient for me. I am but now beginning to be a +disciple.' + +'Nelly dear--what do you mean?' + +A faint little smile crossed Nelly's face. + +'Oh, nothing--only;--' she sighed again--'It's so _splendid_! Such a +will!--such a faith! No one thinks like that now. No one is willing to +be "the corn of God."' + +'Oh, yes they are!' said Hester, passionately. 'There are thousands of +men--and women--in this war, who are willing to do everything--suffer +everything--for others--their country--their people at home.' + +'Well, then they're happy!--and why hold anyone back?' said Nelly, with +soft reproach. And letting her head drop on Hester's shoulder, she said, +slowly-- + +'Let me go, dear Hester--let me go! It's drudgery I want--_drudgery_' +she repeated with intensity. 'Something that I don't want to +do--something that's against the grain--all day long.' Then she laughed +and roused herself. 'Not much likeness between me and St. Ignatius, is +there?' + +Hester considered her gravely. + +'When people like you are wrestling all day and every day with something +too hard for them, their strength gives way. They think they can do it, +but they can't.' + +'My strength won't give way,' said Nelly, with quiet conviction. Then, +after pausing a moment, she said with a strange ardour--'I once heard a +story--a true story--of a man, who burnt his own hand off, because it +had struck his friend. He held it in a flame till there was only the +burnt stump, and after that he forgave himself and could bear to live +again.' + +'But whom have you struck, you poor child!' cried Hester. + +'_George_!' said Nelly, looking at her with bitterly shining eyes. + +Hester's arms enfolded her, and they talked far into the night. Before +they separated, Hester had agreed that the date of Nelly's departure +should be not postponed, but quickened. + +And during the few remaining days they were together, Hester could only +notice with growing amazement the change in all the small ways and +habits that had once characterised Nelly Sarratt--especially since her +Torquay illness; the small invalidisms and self-indulgences, the +dependence on a servant or on Bridget. Now the ascetic, penitential +passion had come upon her; as it comes in different forms, upon many a +man or woman in the _sélva oscúra_ of their life; and Hester knew that +there was no resisting it. + +Hester went back to her 'Welfare' work. Cicely travelled between Carton +and London, collecting her trousseau and declaring that she _would_ be +married in Lent, whatever people might say. Farrell was deeply engaged +in introducing a new antiseptic treatment of an extremely costly kind +throughout his hospital, in watching the results of it, and in giving +facilities for the study of it, to the authorities and officials of all +kinds who applied to him. A sorrowful man--but a very busy one. +Marsworth was making his mark in the Intelligence Department of the War +Office, and was being freely named as the head of an important Military +Mission to one of the Allied Headquarters. What would become of Cicely +and the wedding, if the post were given him, and--as was probable--at a +day's warning--was not quite clear. Cicely, however, took it calmly. +'They can't give us less than three hours' notice--and if it's after two +o'clock, we can always get married somehow by five. You scurry round, +pay fifty pounds, and somebody at Lambeth does it. Then--I should see +him safely off in the evening!' + +Meanwhile Bridget Cookson was living in her usual Bloomsbury +boarding-house, holding herself quite aloof from the idle ways of its +inmates, who, in the midst of the world-war, were still shopping as +usual in the mornings and spending the afternoons in tea and gossip. +Bridget, however, was scarcely employing her own time to any greater +profit for a burdened country. She was learning various languages, and +attending a number of miscellaneous lectures. Her time was fairly full, +and she lived in an illusion of multifarious knowledge which flattered +her vanity. She was certainly far cleverer; and better-educated than +the other women of her boarding-house; and she was one of those persons +who throughout life prefer to live with their inferiors. 'The only +remedy against a superiority,'--says some French writer--'is to love +it.' But Bridget was so made that she could not love it; she could only +pull it down and belittle it. + +But all the same, Bridget Cookson was no monster, though she was +probably without feelings and instincts that most people possess. She +missed Nelly a good deal, more than Nelly herself would have believed. +And she thought now, that she had behaved like a fool in not recognising +Sarratt at once, and so preserving her influence with her sister. +Morally, however, she saw no great harm in what she had done. It was +arguable, at any rate. Everything was arguable. As to the effect on +Nelly of the outward and visible facts of Sarratt's death, it seemed to +have been exactly what she, Bridget, had foreseen. Through some +Manchester acquaintance she succeeded in getting occasional news of +Nelly, who was, it appeared, killing herself with hard and disagreeable +work. She heard also from the woman left in charge of the Loughrigg farm +that all Mrs. Sarratt's personal possessions had been sent to the care +of Miss Martin, and that Sir William had shut up the cottage and never +came there. Sometimes Bridget would grimly contrast this state of things +with what might have happened, had her stroke succeeded, and had George +died unrecognised. In that event how many people would have been made +happy, who were now made miserable! + +The winter passed away, the long and bitter winter which seemed to +sharpen for English hearts and nerves all the suffering of the war. On +the Somme the Germans were secretly preparing the retreat which began +with the spring, while the British armies were growing to their full +stature, month by month, and England was becoming slowly accustomed to +the new and amazing consciousness of herself as a great military power. +And meanwhile death in the trenches still took its steady toll of our +best and dearest; and at sea, while British sea-power pressed home its +stifling grasp on the life of Germany, the submarine made England +anxious, but not afraid. + +March shewed some pale gleams of spring, but April was one of the +coldest and dreariest in the memory of living man. The old earth in +sympathy with the great struggle that was devastating and searing her, +seemed to be withholding leaf and flower, and forbidding the sun to woo +her. + +Till the very first days of May! Then, with a great return upon herself, +Nature flew to work. The trees rushed into leaf, and never had there +been such a glorious leafage. Everything was late, but everything was +perfection. And nowhere was the spring loveliness more lovely than in +Westmorland. The gentle valleys of the Lakes had been muffled in snow +and scourged with hail. The winter furies had made their lairs in the +higher fells, and rushed shrieking week after week through delicate and +quiet scenes not made for them. The six months from November to May had +been for the dale-dwellers one long endurance. But in one May week all +was forgotten, and atoned for. Beauty, 'an hourly presence,' reigned +without a rival. From the purple heights that stand about Langdale and +Derwentwater, to the little ferns and mountain plants that crept on +every wall, or dipped in every brook, the mountain land was all alive +and joyful. The streams alone made a chorus for the gods. + +Hester, who was now a woman of sixty, had reluctantly admitted, by the +middle of the month, that, after a long winter spent in a munition +factory and a Lancashire town, employed on the most strenuous work that +she, an honest worker all her life, had ever known, a fortnight's +holiday was reasonable. And she wrote to Nelly Sarratt, just as she was +departing northwards, to say--cunningly--that she was very tired and run +down, and would Nelly come and look after her for a little? It was the +first kindness she had ever asked of Nelly, to whom she had done so +many. Nelly telegraphed in reply that in two days she would be at Rydal. + +Hester spent the two days in an expectation half-eager, half-anxious. It +had been agreed between them that in their correspondence the subject of +Nelly's health was to be tabooed. In case of a serious breakdown, the +Commandant of Nelly's hospital would write. Otherwise there were to be +no enquiries and no sympathy. Cicely Marsworth before her marriage in +early March had seen Nelly twice and had reported--against the +grain--that although 'most unbecomingly thin,' the obstinate little +creature said she was well, and apparently was well. Everybody in the +hospital, said Cicely, was at Nelly's feet. 'It is of course nonsense +for her to lay down, that she won't be petted, Nature has settled that +for her. However, I am bound to say it is the one thing that makes her +angry, and the nurses are all amazed at what she has been able to stand. +There is a half-blind boy, suffering from "shock" in one of the wards, +to whom they say she has devoted herself for months. She has taught him +to speak again, and to walk, and the nerve-specialist who has been +looking after the poor fellow told her he would trust her with his worst +cases, if only she would come and nurse for him. That did seem to please +her. She flushed up a little when she told me. Otherwise she has become +_horribly impersonal_! Her wings are growing rapidly. But oh, Hester, I +did and do prefer the old Nelly to any angel I've ever known. If I +hadn't married Herbert, I should like to spend all my time in _tempting +her_--the poor darling!--as the devil--who was such a fool!--tempted St. +Anthony. I know plenty of saints; but I know only one little, soft +kissable Nelly. She shan't be taken from us!' + +_So horribly impersonal_! What did Cicely mean? + +Well, Cicely--with the object described in full view--would soon be +able to tell her. For the Marsworths were coming to Carton for a week, +before starting for Rome, and would certainly come over to her to say +good-bye. As to William--would it really be necessary to leave him +behind? Nelly must before long brace herself to see him again, as an +ordinary friend. He had meant no harm--and done no harm--poor William! +Hester was beginning secretly to be his warm partisan. + +Twenty-four hours later, Nelly arrived. As Hester received her from the +coach, and walked with her arm round the tiny waist to the cottage by +the bend of the river, where tea beside the sun-flecked stream was set +for the traveller, the older friend was at once startled and reassured. +Reassured--because, after these six months, Nelly could laugh once more, +and her step was once more firm and normal; and startled, by the new and +lonely independence she perceived in her frail visitor. Nelly was in +black again, with a small black hat from which her widow's veil fell +back over her shoulders. The veil, the lawn collar and cuffs, together +with her childish slightness, and the curls on her temples and brow that +she had tried in vain to straighten, made her look like a little girl +masquerading. And yet, in truth, what struck her hostess was the sad +maturity for which she seemed to have exchanged her old clinging ways. +She spoke, for the first time, as one who was mistress of her own life +and its issues; with a perfectly clear notion of what there was for her +to do. She had made up her mind, she told Hester, to take work offered +her in one of the new special hospitals for nervous cases which were the +product of the war. 'They think I have a turn for it, and they are going +to train me. Isn't it kind and dear of them?' + +'But I am told it is the most exhausting form of nursing there is,' said +Hester wondering. 'Are you quite sure you can stand it?' + +'Try me!' said Nelly, with a strange brightness of look. Then reaching +out a hand she slipped it contentedly into her friend's. 'Hester!--isn't +it strange what we imagine about ourselves--and what is really true? I +thought the first weeks that I was in hospital, I _must_ break down. I +never dreamt that anyone could feel so tired--so deadly ill--and yet go +on. And then one began, little by little, to get hardened,--of course +I'm only now beginning to feel that!--and it seems like being born +again, with a quite new body, that one can make--yes, _make_--do as one +likes. That's what the soldiers tell me--about _their_ training. And +they wonder at it, as I do.' + +'My dear, you're horribly thin,' interrupted Hester. + +'Oh, not too thin!' said Nelly, complacently. + +Then she lifted up her eyes suddenly, and saw the lake in a dazzle of +light, and Silver How, all purple, as of old; yet another family of wild +duck swimming where the river issued from the lake; and just beyond, the +white corner of the house where she and George had spent their few days +of bliss. Slowly, the eyes filled with brimming tears. She threw off +her hat and veil, and slipping to the grass, she laid her head against +her friend's knee, and there was a long silence. + +Hester broke it at last. + +'I want you to come a little way up the fell, and look at a daffodil +field. We'll leave a message, and Cicely can follow us there.' And then +she added, not without trepidation--'and I asked her to bring William, +if he had time.' + +Nelly was silent a moment, and then said quietly---'Thank you. I'm glad +you did.' + +They left the garden and wandered through some rocky fields on the side +of the fell, till they came to one where Linnaeus or any other pious +soul might well have gone upon his knees for joy. Some loving hand had +planted it with daffodils--the wild Lent lily of the district, though +not now very plentiful about the actual lakes. And the daffodils had +come back rejoicing to their kingdom, and made it their own again. They +ran in lines and floods, in troops and skirmishers, all through the +silky grass, and round the trunks of the old knotted oaks, that hung as +though by one foot from the emerging rocks and screes. Above, the bloom +of the wild cherries made a wavering screen of silver between the +daffodils and the May sky; amid the blossom the golden-green of the oaks +struck a strong riotous note; and far below, at their feet, the lake lay +blue, with all the sky within it, and the softness of the larch-woods on +its banks. + +Nelly dropped into the grass among the daffodils. One could not have +called her the spirit of the spring--the gleeful, earthly spring--as it +would have been natural to do, in her honeymoon days. And yet, as Hester +watched her, she seemed in her pale, changed beauty to be in some +strange harmony with that grave, renewing, fruitful heart of all things, +whereof the daffodils and the cherry-blossom were but symbols. + +Presently there were voices beneath them--climbing voices that came +nearer--of a man and a woman. Nelly's hand begun to pluck restlessly at +the grass beside her. + +Cicely emerged first, Cicely in white, very bridal, and very happy. Very +conscious too, though she did not betray it by a movement or a look, of +the significance of this first meeting, since Sarratt's death, between +her brother and Nelly. But they met very simply. Nelly went a little way +down the steep to meet them. She kissed Cicely, and gave Farrell her +hand. + +'It was very good of you to come.' + +But then it seemed to Hester, who could not help watching it, that +Nelly's face, as she stood there looking gravely at Farrell, shewed a +sudden trouble and agitation. It was gone very quickly, however, and she +and he walked on together along a green path skirting the fells, and +winding through the daffodils and the hawthorns. + +Cicely and Hester followed, soon perceiving that the two ahead had +slipped into animated conversation. + +'What can it be about?' said Cicely, in Hester's ear. + +'I heard the word "Charcot,"' said Hester. + +The bride listened deliberately. + +'And William's talking about an article in the _Lancet_ he's been boring +Herbert and me with, by that very specialist that Nelly's so keen +about,--the man that is going to have her trained to nurse his cases. +Something about the new treatment of "shock." I say, Hester, what an odd +sort of fresh beginning!' + +Cicely turned a look half grave, half laughing on her companion--adding +hastily-- + +'The specialist's married!' + +Hester frowned a little. + +'Beginning of what?' + +'Oh, I don't know,' said Cicely, with a shrug, 'But life is long, +Mademoiselle Hester, and now they've got a common interest--outside +themselves. They can talk about _things_--not feelings. Goodness!--did +you hear that? William is head over ears in his new antiseptic--and look +at Nelly--she's quite pink! That's what I meant by her being _horribly +impersonal_. She used the word "scientific" to me, three times, when I +went to see her--_Nelly_!' + +'If she's impersonal, I should doubt whether William is,' said Hester +drily. + +'Ah, no--poor Willy!' was Cicely's musing reply. 'It's a hard time for +him. I don't believe she's ever out of his mind. Or at least, she +wouldn't be, if it weren't for his work. That's the blessed part--for +both of them. And now you see--it gives them such a deal to talk +about'--her gesture indicated the couple in front. 'It's like two sore +surfaces, isn't it, that mustn't touch--you want something between.' + +'All the same, William mustn't set his heart--' + +'And Hester--dear old thing!--mustn't preach!' said Cicely laughing, and +pinching her cousin's arm. 'What's the good of saying that, about a man +like William, who knows what he wants? Of course he's set his heart, and +will go on setting it. But he'll _wait_--as long as she likes.' + +'It'll be a long time.' + +'All right! They're neither of them Methuselahs yet. Heavens!--What are +they at now? _Ambrine_!--_she's_ talking to _him_' + +But some deep mingled instinct, at once of sympathy with Nelly and pity +for Farrell, made Hester unwilling to discuss the subject any more. +George's death was too recent; peace and a happy future too remote. So +she turned on Cicely. + +'And please, what have you done with Herbert? I was promised a +bridegroom.' + +'Business!' said Cicely, sighing. 'We had hardly arrived for our week's +leave, when the wretched War Office wired him to come back. He went this +morning, and I wanted to go too, but--I'm not to racket just now.' + +Cicely blushed, and Hester, smiling, pressed her hand. + +'Then you're not going to Rome?' + +'Certainly I am! But one has to give occasional sops to the domestic +tyrant.' + +They sauntered back to tea in Hester's garden by the river, and there +the talk of her three guests was more equal and unfettered, more of a +real interchange, than Hester ever remembered it. Of old, Farrell had +been the guardian and teacher, indoctrinating Nelly with his own views +on art, reading to her from his favourite poets, or surrounding her in a +hundred small matters with a playful and devoted homage. But now in the +long wrestle with her grief and remorse, she had thought, as well as +felt. She was as humble and simple as ever, but her companions realised +that she was standing on her own feet. And this something new in +her--which was nothing but a strengthened play of intelligence and +will--had a curious effect on Farrell. It seemed to bring him out, also; +so that the nobler aspects of his life, and the nobler proportions of +his character shewed themselves, unconsciously. Hester, with anxious +joy, guessed at the beginnings of a new moral relation, a true +comradeship, between himself and Nelly, such as there had never yet +been--which might go far. It masked the depths in both of them; or +rather it was a first bridge thrown over the chasm between them. What +would come of it? + +Again she rebuked herself even for the question. But when the time for +departure came, and Nelly took Cicely into the house to fetch the wraps +which had been left there, Farrell drew his chair close to Hester's. She +read agitation in his look. + +'So she's actually going to take up this new nursing? She says she is to +have six months' training.' + +'Yes--don't grudge it her!' + +Farrell was silent a moment, then broke out--'Did you ever see anything +so small and transparent as her hands are? I was watching them as she +sat there.' + +'But they're capable!' laughed Hester. 'You should hear what her matron +says of her.' + +Farrell sighed. + +'How much weight has she lost?' + +'Not more--as yet--than she can stand. There's an intense life in her--a +spiritual life--that seems to keep her going.' + +'Hester--dear Hester--watch over her!' + +He put out a hand and grasped his cousin's. + +'Yes, you may trust me.' + +'Hester!--do you believe there'll ever be any hope for me?' + +'It's unkind even to think of it yet,' she said gravely. + +He drew himself up, recovering self-control. + +'I know--I know. I hope I'm not quite a fool! And indeed it's better +than I thought. She's not going to banish me altogether. When this new +hospital's open--in another month or so--and she's settled there--she +asks me to call upon her. She wants me to go into this man's treatment.' +There was a touch of comedy in the words; but the emotion in his face +was painful to see. + +'Good!' said Hester, smiling. + +When the guests were gone, Nelly came slowly back to Hester from the +garden gate. Her hands were loosely clasped before her, her eyes on the +ground. When she reached Hester she looked up and Hester saw that her +eyes were full of tears. + +'He'll miss her very much,' she said, sadly. + +'Cicely?' + +'Yes--she's been a great deal more to him lately than she used to be.' + +Nelly stood silently looking out over the lake for a while. In her mind +and Hester's there were thoughts which neither could express. Suddenly, +Nelly turned to Hester. Her voice sounded strained and quick. 'I never +told you--on my way here, I went to see Bridget.' + +Hester was taken by surprise. After a moment's silence she said-- + +'Has she ever repented--ever asked your forgiveness? + +Nelly shook her head. + +'But I think--she would be sorry--if she could. I shall go and see her +sometimes. But she doesn't want me. She seems quite busy--and +satisfied.' + +'Satisfied!' said Hester, indignantly. + +'I mean with what she is doing--with her way of living.' + +There was silence. But presently there was a stifled sob in the +darkness; and Hester knew that Nelly was thinking of those irrecoverable +weeks of which Bridget's cruelty had robbed her. + +Then presently bedtime came, and Hester saw her guest to her room. But a +little while after, as she was standing by her own window she heard the +garden door open and perceived a small figure slipping down over the +lawn--a shadow among shadows--towards the path along the lake. And she +guessed of course that Nelly had gone out to take a last look at the +scene of her lost happiness, before her departure on the morrow. + +Only twenty-two--with all her life before her--if she lived! + +Of course, the probability was that she would live--and gradually +forget--and in process of time marry William Farrell. But Hester could +not be at all sure that the story would so work out. Supposing that the +passion of philanthropy, or the passion of religion, fastened upon +her--on the girlish nature that had proved itself with time to be of so +much finer and rarer temper than those about her had ever suspected? +Both passions are absorbing; both tend to blunt in many women the +natural instinct of the woman towards the man. Nelly had been an +old-fashioned, simple girl, brought up in a backwater of life. Now she +was being drawn into that world of the new woman--where are women +policemen, and women chauffeurs, and militant suffragists, and women in +overalls and breeches, and many other strange types. The war has shown +us--suddenly and marvellously--the adaptability of women. Would little +Nelly, too, prove as plastic as the rest, and in the excitement of +meeting new demands, and reaching out to new powers, forget the old +needs and sweetnesses? + +It might be so; but in her heart of hearts, Hester did not believe it +would be so. + +Meanwhile Nelly was wandering through the May dusk along the lake. She +walked through flowers. The scents of a rich earth were in the air; +daylight lingered, but a full and golden moon hung over Loughrigg in the +west; and the tranced water of the lake was marvellously giving back the +beauty amid which it lay--form, and colour, and distance--and all the +magic of the hour between day and night. There was no boat, alack, to +take her to the island; but there it lay, dreaming on the silver water, +with a great hawthorn in full flower shewing white upon its rocky side. +She made her way to the point nearest to the island, and there sat down +on a stone at the water's edge. + +Opposite to her was the spot where she and George had drifted with the +water on their last night together. If she shut her eyes she could see +his sunburnt face, blanched by the moonlight, his strong shoulders, his +hands--which she had kissed--lying on the oars. And mingling with the +vision was that other--of a grey, dying face, a torn and broken body. + +Her heart was full of intensest love and yearning; but the love was no +longer a torment. She knew now that if she had been able to tell George +everything, he would never have condemned her; he would only have opened +his arms and comforted her. + +She was wrapped in a mystical sense of communion with him, as she sat +dreaming there. But in such a calm and exaltation of spirit, that there +was ample room besides in her mind for the thought of William +Farrell--her friend. Her most faithful and chivalrous friend! She +thought of Farrell's altered aspect, of the signs of a great task laid +upon him, straining even his broad back. And then, of his loneliness. +Cicely was gone--his 'little friend' was gone. + +What could she still do for him? It seemed to her that even while George +stood spiritually beside her, in this scene of their love, he was +bidding her think kindly and gratefully of the man whom he had blessed +in dying--the man who, in loving her, had meant him no harm. + +Her mind formed no precise image of the future. She was incapable, +indeed, as yet, of forming any that would have disturbed that intimate +life with George which was the present fruit in her of remorseful love +and pity. The spring shores of Rydal, the meadows steeping their +flowery grasses in the water, the new leaf, the up-curling fern, +breathed in her unconscious ear their message of re-birth. But she knew +only that she was uplifted, strengthened--to endure and serve. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISSING*** + + +******* This file should be named 12908-8.txt or 12908-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/9/0/12908 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/old/12908-8.zip b/old/12908-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c9ac635 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12908-8.zip diff --git a/old/12908.txt b/old/12908.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c1b6877 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12908.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11155 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Missing, by Mrs. Humphry Ward + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Missing + +Author: Mrs. Humphry Ward + +Release Date: July 14, 2004 [eBook #12908] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISSING*** + + +E-text prepared by Andrew Templeton, Juliet Sutherland, Graeme Mackreth, +and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders + + + +MISSING + +by + +MRS. HUMPHRY WARD + +Author of "Robert Elsmere," "Lady Rose's Daughter," +"The Mating of Lydia," etc. + +Frontispiece in Colour by C. Allan Gilbert + + + + + + +[Illustration: _Deeply regret to inform you your husband reported +wounded and missing_] + + + + +PART I + +MISSING + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +'Shall I set the tea, Miss?' + +Miss Cookson turned from the window. + +'Yes--bring it up--except the tea of course--they ought to be here at +any time.' + +'And Mrs. Weston wants to know what time supper's to be?' + +The fair-haired girl speaking was clearly north-country. She pronounced +the 'u' in 'supper,' as though it were the German 'u' in _Suppe_. + +Miss Cookson shrugged her shoulders. + +'Well, they'll settle that.' + +The tone was sharp and off-hand. And the maid-servant, as she went +downstairs, decided for the twentieth time that afternoon, that she +didn't like Miss Cookson, and she hoped her sister, Mrs. Sarratt, would +be nicer. Miss Cookson had been poking her nose into everything that +afternoon, fiddling with the rooms and furniture, and interfering with +Mrs. Weston. As if Mrs. Weston didn't know what to order for lodgers, +and how to make them comfortable! As if she hadn't had dozens of brides +and bridegrooms to look after before this!--and if she hadn't given +them all satisfaction, would they ever have sent her all them +picture-postcards which decorated her little parlour downstairs? + +All the same, the house-parlourmaid, Milly by name, was a good deal +excited about this particular couple who were now expected. For Mrs. +Weston had told her it had been a 'war wedding,' and the bridegroom was +going off to the front in a week. Milly's own private affairs--in +connection with a good-looking fellow, formerly a gardener at Bowness, +now recently enlisted in one of the Border regiments--had caused her to +take a special interest in the information, and had perhaps led her to +put a bunch of monthly roses on Mrs. Sarratt's dressing-table. Miss +Cookson hadn't bothered herself about flowers. That she might have +done!--instead of fussing over things that didn't concern her--just for +the sake of ordering people about. + +When the little red-haired maid had left the room, the lady she disliked +returned to the window, and stood there absorbed in reflections that +were not gay, to judge from the furrowed brow and pinched lips that +accompanied them. Bridget Cookson was about thirty; not precisely +handsome, but at the same time, not ill-looking. Her eyes were large and +striking, and she had masses of dark hair, tightly coiled about her head +as though its owner felt it troublesome and in the way. She was thin, +but rather largely built, and her movements were quick and decided. Her +tweed dress was fashionably cut, but severely without small ornament of +any kind. + +She looked out upon a beautiful corner of English Lakeland. The house in +which she stood was built on the side of a little river, which, as she +saw it, came flashing and sparkling out of a lake beyond, lying in broad +strips of light and shade amid green surrounding fells. The sun was +slipping low, and would soon have kindled all the lake into a white +fire, in which its islands would have almost disappeared. But, for the +moment, everything was plain:--the sky, full of light, and filmy grey +cloud, the fells with their mingling of wood and purple crag, the +shallow reach of the river beyond the garden, with a little family of +wild duck floating upon it, and just below her a vivid splash of colour, +a mass of rhododendron in bloom, setting its rose-pink challenge against +the cool greys and greens of the fell. + +But Bridget Cookson was not admiring the view. It was not new to her, +and moreover she was not in love with Westmorland at all; and why Nelly +should have chosen this particular spot, to live in, while George was at +the war, she did not understand. She believed there was some sentimental +reason. They had first seen him in the Lakes--just before the war--when +they two girls and their father were staying actually in this very +lodging-house. But sentimental reasons are nothing. + +Well, the thing was done. Nelly was married, and in another week, George +would be at the front. Perhaps in a fortnight's time she would be a +widow. Such things have happened often. 'And then what shall I do with +her?' thought the sister, irritably,--recoiling from a sudden vision of +Nelly in sorrow, which seemed to threaten her own life with even greater +dislocation than had happened to it already. 'I must have my time to +myself!--freedom for what I want'--she thought to herself, impatiently, +'I can't be always looking after her.' + +Yet of course the fact remained that there was no one else to look after +Nelly. They had been left alone in the world for a good while now. Their +father, a Manchester cotton-broker in a small way, had died some six +months before this date, leaving more debts than fortune. The two girls +had found themselves left with very small means, and had lived, of late, +mainly in lodgings--unfurnished rooms--with some of their old furniture +and household things round them. Their father, though unsuccessful in +business, had been ambitious in an old-fashioned way for his children, +and they had been brought up 'as gentlefolks'--that is to say without +any trade or profession. + +But their poverty had pinched them disagreeably--especially Bridget, in +whom it had produced a kind of angry resentment. Their education had not +been serious enough, in these days of competition, to enable them to +make anything of teaching after their Father's death. Nelly's +water-colour drawing, for instance, though it was a passion with her, +was quite untrained, and its results unmarketable. Bridget had taken up +one subject after another, and generally in a spirit of antagonism to +her surroundings, who, according to her, were always 'interfering' with +what she wanted to do,--with her serious and important occupations. But +these occupations always ended by coming to nothing; so that, as Bridget +was irritably aware, even Nelly had ceased to be as much in awe of them +as she had once been. + +But the elder sister had more solid cause than this for dissatisfaction +with the younger. Nelly had really behaved like a little fool! The one +family asset of which a great deal might have been made--should have +been made--was Nelly's prettiness. She was _very_ pretty--absurdly +pretty--and had been a great deal run after in Manchester already. There +had been actually two proposals from elderly men with money, who were +unaware of the child's engagement, during the past three months; and +though these particular suitors were perhaps unattractive, yet a little +time and patience, and the right man would have come along, both +acceptable in himself, and sufficiently supplied with money to make +everything easy for everybody. + +But Nelly had just wilfully and stubbornly fallen in love with this +young man--and wilfully and stubbornly married him. It was unlike her to +be stubborn about anything. But in this there had been no moving her. +And now there was nothing before either of them but the same shabbiness +and penury as before. What if George had two hundred and fifty a year +of his own, besides his pay?--a fact that Nelly was always triumphantly +brandishing in her sister's eyes. + +No doubt it was more than most young subalterns had--much more. But what +was two hundred and fifty a year? Nelly would want every penny of it for +herself--and her child--or children. For of course there would be a +child--Bridget Cookson fell into profound depths of thought, emerging +from them, now as often before, with the sore realisation of how much +Nelly might have done with her 'one talent,' both for herself and her +sister, and had not done. + +The sun dropped lower; one side of the lake was now in shadow, and from +the green shore beneath the woods and rocks, the reflections of tree and +crag and grassy slope were dropping down and down, unearthly clear and +far, to that inverted heaven in the 'steady bosom' of the water. A +little breeze came wandering, bringing delicious scents of grass and +moss, and in the lake the fish were rising. + +Miss Cookson moved away from the window. How late they were! She would +hardly get home in time for her own supper. They would probably ask her +to stay and sup with them. But she did not intend to stay. Honeymooners +were much better left to themselves. Nelly would be a dreadfully +sentimental bride; and then dreadfully upset when George went away. She +had asked her sister to join them in the Lakes, and it was taken for +granted that they would resume living together after George's departure. +But Bridget had fixed her own lodgings, for the present, a mile away, +and did not mean to see much of her sister till the bridegroom had gone. + +There was the sound of a motor-car on the road, which ran along one side +of the garden, divided from it by a high wall. It could hardly be they; +for they were coming frugally by the coach. But Miss Cookson went across +to a side window looking on the road to investigate. + +At the foot of the hill opposite stood a luxurious car, waiting +evidently for the party which was now descending the hill towards it. +Bridget had a clear view of them, herself unseen behind Mrs. Weston's +muslin blinds. A girl was in front, with a young man in khaki, a +convalescent officer, to judge from his frail look and hollow eyes. The +girl was exactly like the fashion-plate in the morning's paper. She wore +a very short skirt and Zouave jacket in grey cloth, high-heeled grey +boots, with black tips and gaiters, a preposterous little hat perched on +one side of a broad white forehead, across which the hair was parted +like a boy's, and an ostrich plume on the top of the hat, which nodded +and fluttered so extravagantly that the face beneath almost escaped the +spectator's notice. Yet it was on the whole a handsome face, audacious, +like its owner's costume, and with evident signs--for Bridget Cookson's +sharp eyes--of slight make-up. + +Miss Cookson knew who she was. She had seen her in the neighbouring +town that morning, and had heard much gossip about her. She was Miss +Farrell, of Carton Hall, and that gentleman coming down the hill more +slowly behind her was no doubt her brother Sir William. + +Lame? That of course was the reason why he was not in the army. It was +not very conspicuous, but still quite definite. A stiff knee, Miss +Cookson supposed--an accident perhaps--some time ago. Lucky for him!--on +any reasonable view. Bridget Cookson thought the war 'odious,' and gave +no more attention to it than she could help. It had lasted now nearly a +year, and she was heartily sick of it. It filled the papers with +monotonous news which tired her attention--which she did not really try +to understand. Now she supposed she would have to understand it. For +George, her new brother-in-law, was sure to talk a terrible amount of +shop. + +Sir William was very tall certainly, and good-looking. He had a short +pointed beard, a ruddy, sunburnt complexion, blue eyes and broad +shoulders--the common points of the well-born and landowning +Englishman. Bridget looked at him with a mixture of respect and +hostility. To be rich was to be so far interesting; still all such +persons, belonging to a world of which she knew nothing, were in her +eyes 'swells,' and gave themselves airs; a procedure on their part, +which would be stopped when the middle and lower classes were powerful +enough to put them in their place. It was said, however, that this +particular man was rather a remarkable specimen of his kind--didn't +hunt--didn't preserve--had trained as an artist, and even exhibited. The +shopwoman in B---- from whom Miss Cookson derived her information about +the Farrells, had described Sir William as 'queer'--said everybody knew +he was 'queer.' Nobody could get him to do any county work. He hated +Committees, and never went near them. It was said he had been in love +and the lady had died. 'But if we all turned lazy for that kind of +thing!'--said the little shopwoman, shrugging her shoulders. Still the +Farrells were not unpopular. Sir William had a pleasant slow way of +talking, especially to the small folk; and he had just done something +very generous in giving up his house--the whole of his house--somewhere +Cockermouth way, to the War Office, as a hospital. As for his sister, +she seemed to like driving convalescent officers about, and throwing +away money on her clothes. There was no sign of 'war economy' about Miss +Farrell. + +Here, however, the shopwoman's stream of gossip was arrested by the +arrival of a new customer. Bridget was not sorry. She had not been at +all interested in the Farrells' idiosyncrasies; and she only watched +their preparations for departure now, for lack of something to do. The +chauffeur was waiting beside the car, and Miss Farrell got in first, +taking the front seat. Then Sir William, who had been loitering on the +hill, hurried down to give a helping hand to the young officer, who was +evidently only in the early stages of convalescence. After settling his +guest comfortably, he turned to speak to his chauffeur, apparently about +their road home, as he took a map out of his pocket. + +At this moment, a clatter of horses' hoofs and the rattle of a coach +were heard. Round the corner, swung the Windermere evening coach in fine +style, and drew up at the door of Mrs. Weston's lodgings, a little ahead +of the car. + +'There they are!' said Miss Cookson, excited in spite of herself. 'Well, +I needn't go down. George will bring in the luggage.' + +A young man and a young lady got up from their seats. A ladder was +brought for the lady to descend. But just as she was about to step on +it, a fidgeting horse in front made a movement, the ladder slipped, and +the lady was only just in time to withdraw her foot and save herself. + +Sir William Farrell, who had seen the little incident, ran forward, +while the man who had been placing the ladder went to the horse, which +was capering and trying to rear in his eagerness to be off. + +Sir William raised the ladder, and set it firmly against the coach. + +'I think you might risk it now,' he said, raising his eyes pleasantly to +the young person above him. + +'Thank you,' said a shy voice. Mrs. Sarratt turned round and descended. +Meanwhile the man holding the ladder saw an officer in khaki standing +on the top of the coach, and heard him address a word of laughing +encouragement to the lady. And no sooner had her feet touched the ground +than he was at her side in a trice. + +'Thank you, Sir!' he said, saluting. 'My wife was very nearly thrown +off. That horse has been giving trouble all the way.' + +'Must be content with what you can get, in war-time!' said the other +smiling, as he raised his hat to the young woman he had befriended, whom +he now saw plainly. 'And there are so few visitors at present in these +parts that what horses there are don't get enough to do.' + +The face turned upon him was so exquisite in line and colour that Sir +William, suddenly struck, instead of retreating to his car, lingered +while the soldier husband--a lieutenant, to judge from the stripes on +his cuff,--collected a rather large amount of luggage from the top of +the coach. + +'You must have had a lovely drive along Windermere,' said Sir William +politely. 'Let me carry that bag for you. You're stopping here?' + +'Yes--' said Mrs. Sarratt, distractedly, watching to see that the +luggage was all right. 'Oh, George, _do_ take care of that parcel!' + +'All right.' + +But she had spoken too late. As her husband, having handed over two suit +cases to Mrs. Weston's fourteen-year old boy, came towards her with a +large brown paper parcel, the string of it slipped, Mrs. Sarratt gave a +little cry, and but for her prompt rush to his assistance, its contents +would have descended into the road. But through a gap in the paper +various tin and china objects were disclosed. + +'That's your "cooker," Nelly,' said her husband laughing. 'I told you it +would bust the show!' + +But her tiny, deft fingers rapidly repaired the damage, and re-tied the +string while he assisted her. The coach drove off, and Sir William +patiently held the bag. Then she insisted on carrying the parcel +herself, and the lieutenant relieved Sir William. + +'Awfully obliged to you!' he said gratefully. 'Good evening! We're +stopping here for a bit' He pointed to the open door of the +lodging-house, where Mrs. Weston and the boy were grappling with the +luggage. + +'May I ask--' Sir William's smile as he looked from one to the other +expressed that loosening of conventions in which we have all lived since +the war--'Are you home on leave, or--' + +'I came home to be married,' said the young soldier, flushing slightly, +while his eyes crossed those of the young girl beside him. 'I've got a +week more.' + +'You've been out some time?' + +'Since last November. I got a scratch in the Ypres fight in April--oh, +nothing--a small flesh wound--but they gave me a month's leave, and my +medical board has only just passed me.' + +'Lanchesters?' said Sir William, looking at his cap. The other nodded +pleasantly. + +'Well, I am sure I hope you'll have good weather here,' said Sir +William, stepping back, and once more raising his hat to the bride. +'And--if there was Anything I could do to help your stay--' + +'Oh, thank you, Sir, but--' + +The pair smiled again at each other. Sir William understood, and smiled +too. A more engaging couple he thought he had never seen. The young man +was not exactly handsome, but he had a pair of charming hazel eyes, a +good-tempered mouth, and a really fine brow. He was tall too, and well +proportioned, and looked the pick of physical fitness. 'Just the kind of +splendid stuff we are sending out by the ship-load,' thought the elder +man, with a pang of envy--'And the girl's lovely!' + +She was at that moment bowing to him, as she followed her husband across +the road. A thought occurred to Sir William, and he pursued her. + +'I wonder--' he said diffidently--'if you care for boating--if you would +like to boat on the lake--' + +'Oh, but it isn't allowed!' She turned on him a pair of astonished eyes. + +'Not in general. Ah, I see you know these parts already. But I happen to +know the owner of the boathouse. Shall I get you leave?' + +'Oh, that _would_ be delightful!' she said, her face kindling with a +child's joyousness. 'That _is_ kind of you! Our name is Sarratt--my +husband is Lieutenant Sarratt.' + +--'Of the 21st Lanchesters? All right--I'll see to it!' + +And he ran back to his car, while the young people disappeared into the +little entrance hall of the lodging-house, and the door shut upon them. + +Miss Farrell received her brother with gibes. Trust William for finding +out a beauty! Who were they? + +Farrell handed on his information as the car sped along the Keswick +road. + +'Going back in a week, is he?' said the convalescent officer beside him. +Then, bitterly--'lucky dog!' + +Farrell looked at the speaker kindly. + +'What--with a wife to leave?' + +The boy, for he was little more, shrugged his shoulders. At that moment +he knew no passion but the passion for the regiment and his men, to whom +he couldn't get back, because his 'beastly constitution' wouldn't let +him recover as quickly as other men did. What did women matter?--when +the 'push' might be on, any day. + +Cicely Farrell continued to chaff her brother, who took it +placidly--fortified by a big cigar. + +'And if she'd been plain, Willy, you'd never have so much as known she +was there! Did you tell her you haunted these parts?' + +He shook his head. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile the bride and bridegroom had been met on the lodging-house +stairs by the bride's sister, who allowed herself to be kissed by the +bridegroom, and hugged by the bride. Her lack of effusion, however, made +little impression on the newcomers. They were in that state of happiness +which transfigures everything round it; they were delighted with the +smallest things; with the little lodging-house sitting room, its windows +open to the lake and river; with its muslin curtains, very clean and +white, its duster-rose too, just outside the window; with Mrs. Weston, +who in her friendly flurry had greeted the bride as 'Miss Nelly,' and +was bustling to get the tea; even, indeed, with Bridget Cookson's few +casual attentions to them. Mrs. Sarratt thought it 'dear' of Bridget to +have come to meet them, and ordered tea for them, and put those +delicious roses in her room-- + +'I didn't!' said Bridget, drily. 'That was Milly. It didn't occur to +me.' + +The bride looked a little checked. But then the tea came in, a real +Westmorland meal, with its toasted bun, its jam, and its 'twist' of new +bread; and Nelly Sarratt forgot everything but the pleasure of making +her husband eat, of filling his cup for him, of looking sometimes +through the window at that shining lake, beside which she and George +would soon be roaming--for six long days. Yes, and nights too. For there +was a moon rising, which would be at the full in two or three days. +Imagination flew forward, as she leant dreamily back in her chair when +the meal was over, her eyes on the landscape. They two alone--on that +warm summer lake--drifting in the moonlight--heart against heart, cheek +against cheek. A shiver ran through her, which was partly passion, +partly a dull fear. But she banished fear. Nothing--_nothing_ should +spoil their week together. + +'Darling!' said her husband, who had been watching her--'You're not very +tired?' He slipped his hand round hers, and her fingers rested in his +clasp, delighted to feel themselves so small, and his so strong. He had +spoken to her in the low voice that was hers alone. She was jealous lest +Bridget should have overheard it. But Bridget was at the other end of +the room. How foolish it had been of her--just because she was so happy, +and wanted to be nice to everybody!--to have asked Bridget to stay with +them! She was always doing silly things like that--impulsive things. But +now she was married. She must think more. It was really very considerate +of Bridget to have got them all out of a difficulty and to have settled +herself a mile away from them; though at first it had seemed rather +unkind. Now they could see her always sometime in the day, but not so as +to interfere. She was afraid Bridget and George would never really get +on, though she--Nelly--wanted to forget all the unpleasantness there had +been,--to forget everything--everything but George. The fortnight's +honeymoon lay like a haze of sunlight between her and the past. + +But Bridget had noticed the voice and the clasped hands,--with +irritation. Really, after a fortnight, they might have done with that +kind of demonstrativeness. All the same, Nelly was quite extraordinarily +pretty--prettier than ever. While the sister was slowly putting on her +hat before the only mirror the sitting-room possessed, she was keenly +conscious of the two figures near the window, of the man in khaki +sitting on the arm of Nelly's chair, holding her hand, and looking down +upon her, of Nelly's flushed cheek and bending head. What a baby she +looked!--scarcely seventeen. Yet she was really twenty-one--old enough, +by a long way, to have done better for herself than this! Oh, George, in +himself, was well enough. If he came back from the war, his new-made +sister-in-law supposed she would get used to him in time. Bridget +however did not find it easy to get on with men, especially young men, +of whom she knew very few. For eight or ten years now, she had looked +upon them chiefly as awkward and inconvenient facts in women's lives. +Before that time, she could remember a few silly feelings on her own +part, especially with regard to a young clerk of her father's, who had +made love to her up to the very day when he shamefacedly told her that +he was already engaged, and would soon be married. That event had been a +shock to her, and had made her cautious and suspicious towards men ever +since. Her life was now full of quite other interests--incoherent and +changeable, but strong while they lasted. Nelly's state of bliss awoke +no answering sympathy in her. + +'Well, good-bye, Nelly,' she said, when she had put on her +things--advancing towards them, while the lieutenant rose to his feet. +'I expect Mrs. Weston will make you comfortable. I ordered in all the +things for to-morrow.' + +'Everything's _charming_!' said Nelly, as she put her arms round her +sister. 'It was awfully good of you to see to it all. Will you come over +to lunch to-morrow? We might take you somewhere.' + +'Oh, don't bother about me! You won't want me. I'll look in some time. +I've got a lot of work to do.' + +Nelly withdrew her arms. George Sarratt surveyed his sister-in-law with +curiosity. + +'Work?' he repeated, with his pleasant, rather puzzled smile. + +'What are you doing now, Bridget?' said Nelly, softly, stroking the +sleeve of her sister's jacket, but really conscious only of the man +beside her. + +'Reading some proof-sheets for a friend,' was the rather short reply, as +Bridget released herself. + +'Something dreadfully difficult?' laughed Nelly. + +'I don't know what you mean by difficult,' said Bridget ungraciously, +looking for her gloves. 'It's psychology--that's all. Lucy Fenn's +bringing out another volume of essays.' + +'It sounds awful!' said George Sarratt, laughing. 'I wish I knew what +psychology was about. But can't you take a holiday?--just this week?' + +He looked at her rather gravely. But Bridget shook her head, and again +said good-bye. George Sarratt took her downstairs, and saw her off on +her bicycle. Then he returned smiling, to his wife. + +'I say, Bridget makes me feel a dunce! Is she really such a learned +party?' + +Nelly's dark eyes danced a little. 'I suppose she is--but she doesn't +stick to anything. It's always something different. A few months ago, it +was geology; and we used to go out for walks with a hammer and a bag. +Last year it was _the_-ology! Our poor clergyman, Mr. Richardson, was no +match for Bridget at all. She could always bowl him over.' + +'Somehow all the "ologies" seem very far away--don't they?' murmured +Sarratt, after they had laughed together. They were standing at the +window again, his arm close round her, her small dark head pressed +against him. There was ecstasy in their nearness to each other--in the +silver beauty of the lake--in the soft coming of the June evening; and +in that stern fact itself that in one short week, he would have left +her, would be facing death or mutilation, day after day, in the trenches +on the Ypres salient. While he held her, all sorts of images flitted +through his mind--of which he would not have told her for the +world--horrible facts of bloody war. In eight months he had seen plenty +of them. The signs of them were graven on his young face, on his eyes, +round which a slight permanent frown, as of perplexity, seemed to have +settled, and on his mouth which was no longer naif and boyish, but would +always drop with repose into a hard compressed line. + +Nelly looked up. + +'Everything's far away'--she whispered--'but this--and you!' He kissed +her upturned lips--and there was silence. + +Then a robin singing outside in the evening hush, sent a message to +them. Nelly with an effort drew herself away. + +'Shan't we go out? We'll tell Mrs. Weston to put supper on the table, +and we can come in when we like. But I'll just unpack a little first--in +our room.' + +She disappeared through a door at the end of the sitting-room. Her last +words--softly spoken--produced a kind of shock of joy in Sarratt. He sat +motionless, hearing the echo of them, till she reappeared. When she came +back, she had taken off her serge travelling dress and was wearing a +little gown of some white cotton stuff, with a blue cloak, the evening +having turned chilly, and a hat with a blue ribbon. In this garb she was +a vision of innocent beauty; wherein refinement and a touch of +strangeness combined with the dark brilliance of eyes and hair, with the +pale, slightly sunburnt skin, the small features and tiny throat, to +rivet the spectator. And she probably knew it, for she flushed slightly +under her husband's eyes. + +'Oh, what a paradise!' she said, under her breath, pointing to the scene +beyond the window. Then--lifting appealing hands to him--'Take me +there!' + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The newly-married pair crossed a wooden bridge over the stream from the +Lake, and found themselves on its further shore, a shore as untouched +and unspoilt now as when Wordsworth knew it, a hundred years ago. The +sun had only just vanished out of sight behind the Grasmere fells, and +the long Westmorland after-glow would linger for nearly a couple of +hours yet. After much rain the skies were clear, and all the omens fair. +But the rain had left its laughing message behind; in the full river, in +the streams leaping down the fells, in the freshness of every living +thing--the new-leafed trees, the grass with its flowers, the rushes +spreading their light armies through the flooded margins of the lake, +and bending to the light wind, which had just, as though in mischief, +blotted out the dream-world in the water, and set it rippling eastwards +in one sheet of living silver, broken only by a cloud-shadow at its +further end. Fragrance was everywhere--from the trees, the young fern, +the grass; and from the shining west, the shadowed fells, the brilliant +water, there breathed a voice of triumphant beauty, of unconquered +peace, which presently affected George Sarratt strangely. + +They had just passed through a little wood; and in its friendly gloom, +he had put his arm round his wife so that they had lingered a little, +loth to leave its shelter. But now they had emerged again upon the +radiance of the fell-side, and he had found a stone for Nelly to rest +on. + +'That those places in France, and that sky--should be in the same +world!' he said, under his breath, pointing to the glow on the eastern +fells, as he threw himself down on the turf beside her. + +Her face flushed with exercise and happiness suddenly darkened. + +'Don't--don't talk of them to-night!'--she said passionately--'not +to-night--just to-night, George!' + +And she stooped impetuously to lay her hand on his lips. He kissed the +hand, held it, and remained silent, his eyes fixed upon the lake. On +that day week he would probably just have rejoined his regiment. It was +somewhere in the neighbourhood of Bailleul. Hot work, he heard, was +expected. There was still a scandalous shortage of ammunition--and if +there was really to be a 'push,' the losses would be appalling. Man +after man that he knew had been killed within a week--two or three +days--twenty-four hours even!--of rejoining. Supposing that within a +fortnight Nelly sat here, looking at this lake, with the War Office +telegram in her hand--'Deeply regret to inform you, etc.' This was not a +subject on which he had ever allowed himself to dwell, more than in his +changed circumstances he was bound to dwell. Every soldier, normally, +expects to get through. But of course he had done everything that was +necessary for Nelly. His will was in the proper hands; and the night +before their wedding he had written a letter to her, to be given her if +he fell. Otherwise he had taken little account of possible death; nor +had it cost him any trouble to banish the thought of it. + +But the beauty of the evening--of this old earth, which takes no account +of the perishing of men--and Nelly's warm life beside him, hanging upon +his, perhaps already containing within it the mysterious promise of +another life, had suddenly brought upon him a tremor of soul--an inward +shudder. Did he really believe in existence after death--in a meeting +again, in some dim other scene, if they were violently parted now? He +had been confirmed while at school. His parents were Church people of a +rather languid type, and it seemed the natural thing to do. Since then +he had occasionally taken the Communion, largely to please an elder +school-friend, who was ardently devout, and was now a Chaplain on the +Western front. But what did it really mean to him?--what would it mean +to _her_--if she were left alone? Images passed through his mind--the +sights of the trenches--shattered and dying bodies. What was the +_soul_?--had it really an independent life? _Something_ there was in +men--quite rough and common men--something revealed by war and the +sufferings of war--so splendid, so infinitely beyond anything he had +ever dreamed of in ordinary life, that to think of it roused in him a +passion of hidden feeling--perhaps adoration--but vague and +speechless--adoration of he knew not what. He did not speak easily of +his feeling, even to his young wife, to whom marriage had so closely, so +ineffably bound him. But as he lay on the grass looking up at +her--smiling--obeying her command of silence, his thoughts ranged +irrepressibly. Supposing he fell, and she lived on--years and years--to +be an old woman? Old! Nelly? Impossible! He put his hand gently on the +slender foot, and felt the pulsing life in it. 'Dearest!' she murmured +at his touch, and their eyes met tenderly. + +'I should be content--' he thought--'if we could just live _this_ life +out! I don't believe I should want another life. But to go--and leave +her; to go--just at the beginning--before one knows anything--before one +has finished anything--' + +And again his eyes wandered from her to the suffusion of light and +colour on the lake. 'How could anyone ever want anything better than +this earth--this life--at its best--if only one were allowed a full and +normal share of it!' And he thought again, almost with a leap of +exasperation, of those dead and mangled men--out there--in France. Who +was responsible--God?--or man? But man's will is--must be--something +dependent--something included in God's will. If God really existed, and +if He willed war, and sudden death--then there must be another life. Or +else the power that devised the world was not a good, but an evil--at +best, a blind one. + +But while his young brain was racing through the old puzzles in the old +ways, Nelly was thinking of something quite different. Her delicate +small face kept breaking into little smiles with pensive intervals--till +at last she broke out-- + +'Do you remember how I caught you--turning back to look after us--just +here--just about here? You had passed that thorn tree--' + +He came back to love-making with delight. + +'"Caught me!" I like that! As if you weren't looking back too! How else +did you know anything about me?' + +He had taken his seat beside her on the rock, and her curly black head +was nestling against his shoulder. There was no one on the mountain +path, no one on the lake. Occasionally from the main road on the +opposite shore there was a passing sound of wheels. Otherwise the world +was theirs--its abysses of shadow, its 'majesties of light.' + +She laughed joyously, not attempting to contradict him. It was on this +very path, just two months before the war, that they had first seen each +other. She with her father and Bridget were staying at Mrs. Weston's +lodgings, because she, Nelly, had had influenza, and the doctor had sent +her away for a change. They knew the Lakes well already, as is the way +of Manchester folk. Their father, a hard-worked, and often melancholy +man, had delighted in them, summer and winter, and his two girls had +trudged about the fells with him year after year, and wanted nothing +different or better. At least, Nelly had always been content. Bridget +had grumbled often, and proposed Blackpool, or Llandudno, or Eastbourne +for a change. But their father did not like 'crowds.' They came to the +Lakes always before or after the regular season. Mr. Cookson hated the +concourse of motorists in August, and never would use one himself. Not +even when they went from Ambleside to Keswick. They must always walk, or +go by the horse-coach. + +Nelly presently looked up, and gave a little pull to the corner of her +husband's moustache. + +'Of course you know you behaved abominably that next day at Wythburn! +You kept that whole party waiting while you ran after us. And I hadn't +dropped that bag. You knew very well I hadn't dropped it!' + +He chuckled. + +'It did as well as anything else. I got five minutes' talk with you. I +found out where you lodged.' + +'Poor papa!'--said Nelly reflectively--'he was so puzzled. "There's that +fellow we saw at Wythburn again! Why on earth does he come here to fish? +I never saw anybody catch a thing in this bit of the river." Poor papa!' + +They were both silent a little. Mr. Cookson had not lived long enough to +see Nelly and George Sarratt engaged. The war had killed him. Financial +embarrassment was already closing on him when it broke out, and he +could not stand the shock and the general dislocation of the first +weeks, as sounder men could. The terror of ruin broke him down--and he +was dead before Christmas, nominally of bronchitis and heart failure. +Nelly had worn mourning for him up to her wedding day. She had been very +sorry for 'poor papa'--and very fond of him; whereas Bridget had been +rather hard on him always. For really he had done his best. After all he +had left them just enough to live upon. Nelly's conscience, grown +tenderer than of old under the touch of joy, pricked her as she thought +of her father. She knew he had loved her best of his two daughters. She +would always remember his last lingering hand-clasp, always be thankful +for his last few words--'God bless you, dear.' But had she cared for him +enough in return?--had she really tried to understand him? Some +vague sense of the pathos of age--of its isolation--its dumb +renouncements--gripped her. If he had only lived longer! He would have +been so proud of George. + +She roused herself. + +'You did really make up your mind--_then_?' she asked him, just for the +pleasure of hearing him confess it again. + +'Of course I did! But what was the good?' + +She knew that he meant it had been impossible to speak while his mother +was still alive, and he, her only child, was partly dependent upon her. +But his mother had died not long after Nelly's father, and her little +income had come to her son. So now what with Nelly's small portion, and +his mother's two hundred and fifty a year in addition to his pay, the +young subaltern thought himself almost rich--in comparison with so many +others. His father, who had died while he was still at school, had been +a master at Harrow, and he had been brought up in a refined home, with +high standards and ideals. A scholarship at Oxford at one of the smaller +colleges, a creditable degree, then an opening in the office of a +well-known firm of solicitors, friends of his father, and a temporary +commission, as soon as war broke out, on his record as a keen and +diligent member of the Harrow and Oxford O.T.C.'s:--these had been the +chief facts of his life up to August 1914;--that August which covered +the roads leading to the Aldershot headquarters, day by day, with the +ever-renewed columns of the army to be, with masses of marching men, +whose eager eyes said one thing only--'_Training_!--_training_!' + +The war, and the causes of the war, had moved his nature, which was +sincere and upright, profoundly; all the more perhaps because of a +certain kindling and awakening of the whole man, which had come from his +first sight of Nelly Cookson in the previous June, and from his growing +friendship with her--which he must not yet call love. He had decided +however after three meetings with her that he would never marry anyone +else. Her softness, her yieldingness, her delicate beauty intoxicated +him. He rejoiced that she was no 'new woman,' but only a very girlish +and undeveloped creature, who would naturally want his protection as +well as his love. For it was his character to protect and serve. He had +protected and served his mother--faithfully and well. And as she was +dying, he had told her about Nelly--not before; only to find that she +knew it all, and that the only soreness he had ever caused her came from +the secrecy which he had tenderly thought her due. + +But for all his sanity and sweet temper there was a hard tough strain in +him, which had made war so far, even through the horrors of it, a great +absorbing game to him, for which he knew himself fitted, in which he +meant to excel. Several times during the fighting that led up to Neuve +Chapelle he had drawn the attention of his superiors, both for bravery +and judgment; and after Neuve Chapelle, he had been mentioned in +despatches. He had never yet known fear in the field--never even such a +shudder at the unknown--which was yet the possible!--as he had just been +conscious of. His nerves had always been strong, his nature was in the +main simple. Yet for him, as well as for so many other 'fellows' he +knew, the war had meant a great deal of this new and puzzled +thinking--on problems of right and wrong, of 'whence' and 'whither,' of +the personal value of men--this man, or that man. By George, war brought +them out!--these personal values. And the general result for him, up to +now,--had he been specially lucky?--had been a vast increase of faith in +his fellow men, yes, and faith in himself, modest as he was. He was +proud to be an English soldier--proud to the roots of his being. His +quiet patriotism had become a passion; he knew now in what he had +believed. + +Yes--England for ever! An English home after the war--and English +children. Oh, he hoped Nelly would have children! As he held her pressed +against him, he seemed to see her in the future--with the small things +round her. But he did not speak of it. + +She meanwhile was thinking of quite other things, and presently she said +in a quick, troubled voice-- + +'George!--while you are away--you don't want me to do munitions?' + +He laughed out. + +'Munitions! I see you at a lathe! Dear--I don't think you'd earn your +keep!' And he lifted her delicate arm and tiny hand, and looked at them +with scientific curiosity. Her frail build was a constant wonder and +pleasure to him. But small as she was, there was something unusual, some +prophecy, perhaps, of developments to come, in the carriage of her head, +and in some of her looks. Her education had been extremely slight, many +of her ideas were still childish, and the circle from which she came had +been inferior in birth and breeding to his own. But he had soon realised +on their honeymoon, in spite of her simple talk, that she was very +quick--very intelligent. + +'Because--' she went on, doubtfully--'there are so many other things I +could do--quite useful things. There's sphagnum moss! Everybody up here +is gathering sphagnum moss--you know--for bandages--upon the fells. I +daresay Bridget might help in that. She won't do any other sort of +war-work.' + +'Why, I thought all women were doing some kind of war-work!' + +'Bridget won't. She doesn't want to hear about the war at all. She's +bored with it.' + +'Bored with it! Good heavens!' Sarratt's countenance clouded. +'Darling--that'll be rather hard on you, if you and she are going to +live together.' + +Nelly lifted her head from his shoulder, and looked at him rather +gravely. + +'I'm afraid you don't know much about Bridget, George. She's,--well, +she's--one of the--oddest women you ever met.' + +'So it seems! But why is she bored with the war?' + +'Well--you see--it doesn't matter to _her_ in any way--and she doesn't +want it to matter to her. There's nobody in it she cares about.' + +'Thanks!' laughed Sarratt. But Nelly still grave, shook her head. 'Oh, +she's not the least like other people. She won't care about you, George, +just because you've married me. And--' + +'And what? Is she still angry with me for not being rich?' + +And his thoughts went back to his first interview with Bridget +Cookson--on the day when their engagement was announced. He could see +the tall sharp-featured woman now, standing with her back to the light +in the little sitting-room of the Manchester lodgings. She had not been +fierce or abusive at all. She had accepted it quietly--with only a few +bitter sentences. + +'All right, Mr. Sarratt. I have nothing to say. Nelly must please +herself. But you've done her an injury! There are plenty of rich men +that would have married her. You're very poor--and so are we.' + +When the words were spoken, Nelly had just accepted him; she was her own +mistress; he had not therefore taken her sister's disapproval much to +heart. Still the words had rankled. + +'Darling!--when I made you marry me--_did_ I do you an injury?' he said +suddenly, as they were walking again hand in hand along the high green +path with the lake at their feet, and a vision of blue and rose before +them, in the shadowed western mountains, the lower grounds steeped in +fiery light, and the red reflections in the still water. + +'What _do_ you mean?' said Nelly, turning upon him a face of wonder. + +'Well, that was what Bridget said to me, when I told her that you had +accepted me. But I was a great fool to tell you, darling! I'm sorry I +did. It was only--' + +'"Injury,"' repeated Nelly, not listening to him. 'Oh, yes, of course +that was money. Bridget says it's all nonsense talking about honour, or +love, or that kind of thing. Everything is really money. It was money +that began this war. The Germans wanted our trade and our money--and we +were determined they shouldn't have them--and that's all there is in it. +With money you can have everything you want and a jolly life--and +without money you can have nothing,--and are just nobody. When that rich +old horror wanted to marry me last year in Manchester, Bridget thought +me perfectly mad to refuse him. She didn't speak to me for a week. Of +course he would have provided for her too.' + +Sarratt had flushed hotly; but he spoke good-naturedly. + +'Well, that was a miss for her--I quite see that. But after all we can +help her a bit. We shall always feel that we must look after her. And +why shouldn't she herself marry?' + +Nelly laughed. + +'Never! She hates men.' + +There was a silence a moment. And then Sarratt said, rather gravely--'I +say, darling, if she's going to make you miserable while I am away, +hadn't we better make some other arrangement? I thought of course she +would be good to you, and look after you! Naturally any sister would, +that was worth her salt!' + +And he looked down indignantly on the little figure beside him. But it +roused Nelly's mirth that he should put it in that way. + +'George,--you _are_ such a darling!--and--and, such a goose!' She rubbed +her cheek against his arm as though to take the edge off the epithet. +'The idea of Bridget's wanting to "look after" me! She'll want to +_manage_ me of course--and I'd much better let her do it. I don't mind!' +And the speaker gave a long, sudden sigh. + +'But I won't have you troubled and worried, when I'm not there to +protect you!' cried Sarratt, fiercely. 'You could easily find a friend.' + +But Nelly shook her head. + +'Oh, no. That wouldn't do. Bridget and I always get on, George. We never +quarrelled--except when I stuck to marrying you. Generally--I always +give in. It doesn't matter. It answers perfectly.' + +She spoke with a kind of languid softness which puzzled him. + +'But now you can't always give in, dearest! You belong to me!' And his +grasp tightened on the hand he held. + +'I can give in enough--to keep the peace,' said Nelly slowly. 'And if +you weren't here, it wouldn't be natural that I shouldn't live with +Bridget. I'm used to her. Only I want to make you understand her, +darling. She's not a bit like--well, like the people you admire, and its +no good expecting her to be.' + +'I shall talk to her before I go!' he said, half laughing, half +resolved. + +Nelly looked alarmed. + +'No--please don't! She always gets the better of people who scold her. +Or if you were to get the better, then she'd visit it on me. And now +don't let's talk of her any more! What were we saying? Oh, I know--what +I was to do. Let's sit down again,--there's a rock, made for us.' + +And on a natural seat under a sheltering rock canopied and hung with +fern, the two rested once more, wrapped in one cloak, close beside the +water, which was quiet again, and crossed by the magical lights and +splendid shadows of the dying sunset. Nelly had been full of plans when +they sat down, but the nearness of the man she loved, his arm round her, +his life beating as it were in one pulse with hers, intoxicated, and for +a time silenced her. She had taken off her hat, and she lay quietly +against him in the warm shelter of the cloak. He thought presently she +was asleep. How small and dear she was! He bent over her, watching as +closely as the now dim light allowed, the dark eyelashes lying on her +cheek, her closed mouth, and soft breathing. His very own!--the thought +was ecstasy--he forgot the war, and the few days left him. + +But this very intensity of brooding love in which he held her, made her +restless after a little. She sat up, and smiled at him-- + +'We must go home!--Yes, we must. But look!--there is a boat!' + +And only a few yards from them, emerging from the shadows, they saw a +boat rocking gently at anchor beside a tiny landing-stage. Nelly sprang +to her feet. + +'George!--suppose you were just to row us out--there--into the light!' + +But when they came to the boat they found it pad-locked to a post in the +little pier. + +'Ah, well, never mind,' said Nelly--'I'm sure that man won't forget?' + +'That man who spoke to us? Who was he?' + +'Oh, I found out from Bridget, and Mrs. Weston. He's Sir William +Farrell, a great swell, tremendously rich. He has a big place somewhere, +out beyond Keswick, beyond Bassenthwaite. You saw he had a stiff knee?' + +'Yes. Can't fight, I suppose--poor beggar! He was very much struck by +_you_, Mrs. George Sarratt!--that was plain.' + +Nelly laughed--a happy childish laugh. + +'Well, if he does get us leave to boat, you needn't mind, need you? What +else, I wonder, could he do for us?' + +'Nothing!' The tone was decided. 'I don't like being beholden to great +folk. But that, I suppose, is the kind of man whom Bridget would have +liked you to marry, darling?' + +'As if he would ever have looked at me!' said Nelly tranquilly. 'A man +like that may be as rich as rich, but he would never marry a poor wife.' + +'Thank God, I don't believe money will matter nearly as much to people, +after the war!' said Sarratt, with energy. 'It's astonishing how now, in +the army--of course it wasn't the same before the war--you forget it +entirely. Who cares whether a man's rich, or who's son he is? In my +batch when I went up to Aldershot there were men of all sorts, +stock-brokers, landowners, city men, manufacturers, solicitors, some of +them awfully rich, and then clerks, and schoolmasters, and lots of poor +devils, like myself. We didn't care a rap, except whether a man took to +his drill, or didn't; whether he was going to keep the Company back or +help it on. And it's just the same in the field. Nothing counts but what +you _are_--it doesn't matter a brass hap'orth what you have. And as the +new armies come along that'll be so more and more. It's "Duke's son and +Cook's son," everywhere, and all the time. If it was that in the South +African war, it's twenty times that now. This war is bringing the nation +together as nothing ever has done, or could do. War is hellish!--but +there's a deal to be said for it!' + +He spoke with ardour, as they strolled homeward, along the darkening +shore, she hanging on his arm. Nelly said nothing. Her little face +showed very white in the gathering shadows. He went on. + +'There was a Second Lieutenant in our battalion, an awfully handsome +boy--heir to a peerage I think. But he couldn't get a commission quick +enough to please him when the war broke out, so he just enlisted--oh! of +course they've given him a commission long ago. But his great friend was +a young miner, who spoke broad Northumberland, a jolly chap. And these +two stuck together--we used to call them the Heavenly Twins. And in the +fighting round Hill 60, the miner got wounded, and lay out between the +lines, with the Boche shells making hell round him. And the other fellow +never rested till he'd crawled out to him, and taken him water, and tied +him up, and made a kind of shelter for him. The miner was a big fellow, +and the other was just a slip of a boy. So he couldn't drag in his +friend, but he got another man to go out with him, and between them they +did it right enough. And when I was in the clearing station next day, I +saw the two--the miner in bed, awfully smashed up, and the other sitting +by him. It made one feel choky. The boy could have put down a cool +hundred thousand, I suppose, if it could have done any good. But it +wouldn't. I can tell you, darling, this war knocks the nonsense out of a +man!' + +'But Bridget is a woman!' said a dreamy voice beside him. + +Sarratt laughed; but he was launched on recollections and could not stop +himself. Apparently everybody in his company was a hero, and had +deserved the Military Cross ten times over, except himself. He described +some incidents he had personally seen, and through the repressed fire +with which he spoke, the personality and ideals of the man revealed +themselves--normal, strong, self-forgetting. Had he even forgotten the +little creature beside him? Hardly, for instinctively he softened away +some of the terrible details of blood and pain. But he had forgotten +Nelly's prohibition. And when again they had entered the dark wood which +lay between them and the cottage on the river-bank, suddenly he heard a +trembling breath, and a sob. + +He caught her in his arms. + +'Nelly, darling! Oh, I was a brute to talk to you like this.' + +'No,' she said, struggling with herself--'No! Wait a moment.' She lay +against him trembling through every limb, while he kissed and comforted +her. + +'I'm--I'm not a coward, George!' she said at last, gasping,--'I'm not +indeed. Only--well, this morning I had about a hundred and seventy hours +left--I counted them. And now there are fifteen less. And all the time, +while we talk, they are slipping away, so quick--so quick--' + +But she was regaining self-control, and soon released herself. + +'I won't do it again!' she said piteously, in the tone of a penitent +child. 'I won't indeed. Let's go home. I'm all right.' + +And home they sped, hand in hand, silently. The little room when they +re-entered it was bright with firelight, because kind Mrs. Weston had +thought the flight chilly, and the white table laid out for them--its +pretty china and simple fare--tempted and cheered them with its look of +home. But Nelly lay on the sofa afterwards very pale, though smiling and +talking as usual. And through the night she was haunted, sleeping and +waking, by the image of the solitary boat rocking gently on the moonlit +lake, the water lapping its sides. She saw herself and George adrift in +it--sailing into--disappearing in--that radiance of silver light. +Sleepily she hoped that Sir William Farrell would not forget his +promise. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +May I come in?' + +Nelly Sarratt, who was standing beside the table in the sitting-room, +packing a small luncheon-basket with sandwiches and cake, looked up in +astonishment. Then she went to the door which was slightly ajar, and +opened it. + +She beheld a very tall man standing smiling on the threshold. + +'I hope I'm not disturbing you, Mrs. Sarratt--but I was on my way for a +day's sketching, and as my car passed your house, I thought I would like +to bring you, myself, the permission which I spoke of on Saturday. I +wrote yesterday, my friend was away from home but I got a telegram this +morning.' + +The visitor held out a telegram, which Nelly took in some bewilderment. +It fluttered her to be so much thought for by a stranger--and a stranger +moreover who seemed but to wave his wand and things were done. But she +thanked him heartily. + +'Won't you come in, Sir William?' she asked him, shyly. 'My husband will +be here directly.' + +It pleased him that she had found out who he was. He protested that he +mustn't stay a moment, but all the same he came in, and stood with his +hands in his pockets looking at the view. He seemed to Nelly to fill the +little sitting-room. Not that he was stout. There was not an ounce of +superfluous flesh on him anywhere. But he stood at least six foot four +in his boots; his shoulders were broad in proportion; and his head, with +its strong curly hair of a light golden brown, which was repeated in his +short beard, carried itself with the unconscious ease of one who has +never known anything but the upper seats of life. His features were +handsome, except for a broad irregular mouth, and his blue eyes were +kind and lazily humorous. + +'There's nothing better than that lake,' he said, motioning towards it, +with his hand, as though he followed the outlines of the hills. 'But I +never try to draw it. I leave that to the fellows who think they can! +I'm afraid your permit's only for a week, Mrs. Sarratt. The boat, I +find, will be wanted after that.' + +'Oh, but my husband will be gone in a week--less than a week. I couldn't +row myself!' said Nelly, smiling. + +But Sir William thought the smile trembled a little, and he felt very +sorry for the small, pretty creature. + +'You will be staying on here after your husband goes?' + +'Oh yes. My sister will be with me. We know the Lakes very well.' + +'Staying through the summer, I suppose?' 'I shan't want to move--if the +war goes on. We haven't any home of our own--yet.' + +She had seated herself, and spoke with the self-possession which belongs +to those who know themselves fair to look upon. But there seemed to be +no coquetry about her--no consciousness of a male to be attracted. All +her ways were very gentle and childish, and in her white dress she made +the same impression on Farrell as she had on Bridget, of +extreme--absurd--youthfulness. He guessed her age about nineteen, +perhaps younger. + +'I'm afraid the war will go on,' he said, kindly. 'We are only now just +finding out our deficiencies.' + +Nelly sighed. + +'I know--it's _awful_ how we want guns and shells! My husband says it +makes him savage to see how we lose men for want of them. _Why_ are we +so short? Whose fault is it?' + +A spot of angry colour had risen in her cheek. It was the dove defending +her mate. The change was lovely, and Farrell, with his artist's eye, +watched it eagerly. But he shook his head. + +'It's nobody's fault. It's all on such a scale--unheard of! Nobody could +have guessed before-hand--unless like Germany, we had been preparing for +years to rob and murder our neighbours. Well, Mrs. Sarratt, I must be +going on. But I wanted to say, that if we could do anything for +you--please command us. We live about twenty miles from here. My sister +hopes she may come and see you. And we have a big library at Carton. If +there are any books you want--' + +'Oh, how _very_ kind of you!' said Nelly gratefully. She had risen and +was standing beside him, looking at him with her dark, frank eyes. 'But +indeed I shall get on very well. There's a war workroom in Manchester, +which will send me work. And I shall try and help with the sphagnum +moss. There's a notice up near here, asking people to help. 'And +perhaps'--she laughed and colored--'I shall try to sketch a little. I +can't do it a bit--but it amuses me.' + +'Oh, you _draw_?' said Farrell, with a smile. Then, looking round him, +he noticed a portfolio on the table, with a paint box beside it. 'May I +look?' + +With rather red cheeks, Nelly showed her performances. She knew very +well, being accustomed to follow such things in the newspapers, that Sir +William Farrell had exhibited both in London and Manchester, and was +much admired by some of the critics. + +Farrell twisted his mouth over them a good deal, considering them +carefully. + +'Yes, I see--I see exactly where you are. Not bad at all, some of them. +I could lend you some things which would help you I think. Ah, here is +your husband.' + +George Sarratt entered, looking in some surprise at their very prompt +visitor, and a little inclined to stand on his guard against a patronage +that might be troublesome. But Farrell explained himself so +apologetically that the young man could only add his very hearty thanks +to his wife's. + +'Well, I really _must_ be off,' said Farrell again, looking for his hat. +'And I see you are going out for the day.' He glanced at the lunch +preparations. 'Do you know Loughrigg Tarn?' He turned to Nelly. + +'Oh, yes!' Her face glowed. 'Isn't it beautiful? But I don't think +George knows it.' She looked up at him. He smiled and shook his head. + +'I have a cottage there,' said Farrell, addressing Sarratt. 'Wordsworth +said it was like Nemi. It isn't:--but it's beautiful all the same. I +wish you would bring your wife there to tea with me one day before you +go? There is an old woman who looks after me. This view is fine'--he +pointed to the window--'but I think mine is finer.' + +'Thank you,' said Sarratt, rather formally--'but I am afraid our days +are getting pretty full.' + +'Of course, of course!' said Sir William, smiling. 'I only meant, if you +happened to be walking in that direction and want a rest. I have a +number of drawings there--my own and other people's, which Mrs. Sarratt +might care to see--sometime. You go on Saturday?' + +'Yes. I'm due to rejoin by Monday.' + +Farrell's expression darkened. + +'You see what keeps me?' he said, sharply, striking his left knee with +the flat of his hand. 'I had a bad fall, shooting in Scotland, years +ago--when I was quite a lad. Something went wrong in the knee-cap. The +doctors muffed it, and I have had a stiff knee ever since. I daresay +they'd give me work at the War Office--or the Admiralty. Lots of fellows +I know who can't serve are doing war-work of that kind. But I can't +stand office work--never could. It makes me ill, and in a week of it I +am fit to hang myself. I live out of doors. I've done some +recruiting--speaking for the Lord Lieutenant. But I can't speak worth a +cent--and I do no good. No fellow ever joined up because of my +eloquence!--couldn't if he tried. No--I've given up my house--it was the +best thing I could do. It's a jolly house, and I've got lots of jolly +things in it. But the War Office and I between us have turned it into a +capital hospital. We take men from the Border regiments mostly. I wonder +if I shall ever be able to live in it again! My sister and I are now in +the agent's house. I work at the hospital three or four days a week--and +then I come here and sketch. I don't see why I shouldn't.' + +He straightened his shoulder as though defying somebody. Yet there was +something appealing, and, as it were, boyish, in the defiance. The man's +patriotic conscience could be felt struggling with his dilettantism. +Sarratt suddenly liked him. + +'No, indeed,' he said heartily. 'Why shouldn't you?' 'It's when one +thinks of _your_ job, one feels a brute to be doing anything one likes.' + +'Well, you'd be doing the same job if you could. That's all right!' said +Sarratt smiling. + +It was curious how in a few minutes the young officer had come to seem +the older and more responsible of the two men. Yet Farrell was clearly +his senior by some ten or fifteen years. Instinctively Nelly moved +nearer to George. She liked to feel how easily he could hold his own +with great people, who made _her_ feel nervous. For she understood from +Mrs. Weston that the Farrells were very great people indeed, as to money +and county position, and that kind of thing. + +Sarratt took his visitor downstairs, and returned, laughing to himself. + +'Well, darling, I've promised we'll go to his cottage one day this week. +You've to let him know. He's an odd fellow! Reminds me of that story of +the young Don at Cambridge who spent all the time he could spare from +neglecting his duties in adorning his person. And yet that doesn't hit +it quite either. For I don't suppose he does spend much time in adorning +his person. He doesn't want it. He's such a splendid looking chap to +begin with. But I'm sure his duties have a poor time! Why, he told +me--me, an utter stranger!--as we went downstairs--that being a +landowner was the most boring trade in the world. He hated his tenants, +and turned all the bother of them over to his agents. "But they don't +hate me"--he said--"because I don't put the screw on. I'm rich enough +without." By Jove, he's a queer specimen!' + +And Sarratt laughed out, remembering some further items of the +conversation on the stairs. + +'Whom are you discussing?' said a cold voice in the background. + +It was Bridget Cookson's voice, and the husband and wife turned to greet +her. The day was balmy--June at its best. But Bridget as she came in had +the look of someone rasped with east wind. Nelly noticed too that since +her marriage, Bridget had developed an odd habit of not looking her--or +George--straight in the face. She looked sideways, as though determined +to avoid the mere sight of their youth and happiness. 'Is she going to +make a quarrel of it all our lives?' thought Nelly impatiently. 'And +when George is so nice to her! How can she be so silly!' + +'We were talking about our visitor who has just left,' said Sarratt, +clearing a chair for his sister-in-law. 'Ah, you came from the other +direction, you just missed him.' + +'The man'--said Nelly--'who was so awfully polite to me on Saturday--Sir +William Farrell.' + +Bridget's countenance lost its stiffness at once--became eager and +alert. + +'What did he come for?' + +'To bring us permission to use the boat for a week,' said Nelly. +'Wasn't it decent of him?--and to do it so quick!' + +'Oh, that's the Farrell way--always was,' said Bridget complacently, as +though she had the family in her pocket. 'When they think of a thing +it's done. It's hit or miss. They never stop to think.' + +Sarratt looked at his sister-in-law with a covert amusement. It was a +left-handed remark. But she went on--while Nelly finished the packing of +the luncheon-basket--pouring out a flood of gossip about the +Farrells's place near Cockermouth, their great relations, their wealth, +their pictures, and their china, while Sarratt walked up and down, +fidgeting with his mouth, and inwardly thanking his stars that his Nelly +was not the least like her sister, that she was as refined and +well-bred, as Bridget was beginning to seem to him vulgar and tiresome. +But he realised that there was a personality in the tall harsh woman; +that she might be formidable; and once or twice he found himself +watching the curious side-long action of her head and neck, and the play +of her eyes and mouth, with a mingling of close attention and strong +dislike. He kept his own counsel however; and presently he heard +Bridget, who had so far refused all their invitations to join their +walks or excursions, rather eagerly accepting Nelly's invitation to go +with them to Sir William's Loughrigg cottage. She knew all about it +apparently, and said it was 'a gem of a place!' Sir William kept an old +butler and his wife there--pensioned off--who looked after him when he +came. 'Everything's tiny,' said Bridget with emphasis--'but _perfect_! +Sir William has the most exquisite taste. But he never asks anybody to +go there. None of the neighbours know him. So of course they say its +"side," and he gives himself airs. Anyway, Nelly, you may think +yourselves highly honoured--' + +'Darling, isn't that basket ready?' said Sarratt, coming to his wife's +aid. 'We're losing the best of the day--and if Bridget really won't go +with us--' + +Bridget frowned and rose. + +'How are the proofs getting on?' said Sarratt, smiling, as she bade him +a careless good-bye. + +Bridget drew herself up. + +'I never talk about my work.' + +'I suppose that's a good rule,' he said doubtfully, 'especially now that +there's so much else to talk about. The Russian news to-day is pretty +bad!' + +A dark look of anxiety crossed the young man's face. For it was the days +of the great Russian retreat in Galicia and Poland, and every soldier +looking on, knew with gnashing of teeth that the happenings in the East +meant a long postponement of our own advance. + +'Oh, I never trouble about the war!' said Bridget, with a +half-contemptuous note in her voice that fairly set George Sarratt on +fire. He flushed violently, and Nelly looked at him in alarm. But he +said nothing. Nelly however with a merry side-glance at him, unseen by +Bridget, interposed to prevent him from escorting Bridget downstairs. +She went herself. Most sisters would have dispensed with or omitted this +small attention; but Nelly always treated Bridget with a certain +ceremony. When she returned, she threw her arms round George's neck, +half laughing, and half inclined to cry. + +'Oh, George, I do wish I had a nicer sister to give you!' But George had +entirely recovered himself. + +'We shall get on perfectly!' he declared, kissing the soft head that +leant against him. 'Give me a little time, darling. She's new to +me!--I'm new to her.' + +Nelly sighed, and went to put on her hat. In her opinion it was no more +easy to like Bridget after three years than three hours. It was certain +that she and George would never suit each other. At the same time Nelly +was quite conscious that she owed Bridget a good deal. But for the fact +that Bridget did the housekeeping, that Bridget saw to the investment of +their small moneys, and had generally managed the business of their +joint life, Nelly would not have been able to dream, and sketch, and +read, as it was her delight to do. It might be, as she had said to +Sarratt, that Bridget managed because she liked managing. All the same +Nelly knew, not without some prickings of conscience as to her own +dependence, that when George was gone, she would never be able to get on +without Bridget. + +Into what a world of delight the two plunged when they set forth! The +more it rains in the Westmorland country, the more heavenly are the days +when the clouds forget to rain! There were white flocks of them in the +June sky as the new-married pair crossed the wooden bridge beyond the +garden, leading to the further side of the lake, but they were sailing +serene and sunlit in the blue, as though their whole business were to +dapple the hills with blue and violet shadows, or sometimes to throw a +dazzling reflection down into the quiet water. There had been rain, +torrential rain, just before the Sarratts arrived, so that the river was +full and noisy, and all the little becks clattering down the fell, in +their haste to reach the lake, were boasting to the summer air, as +though in forty-eight hours of rainlessness they would not be as dry and +dumb as ever again. The air was fresh, in spite of the Midsummer sun, +and youth and health danced in the veins of the lovers. And yet not +without a touch of something feverish, something abnormal, because of +that day--that shrouded day--standing sentinel at the end of the week. +They never spoke of it, but they never forgot it. It entered into each +clinging grasp he gave her hand as he helped her up or down some steep +or rugged bit of path--into the lingering look of her brown eyes, which +thanked him, smiling--into the moments of silence, when they rested amid +the springing bracken, and the whole scene of mountain, cloud and water +spoke with that sudden tragic note of all supreme beauty, in a world of +'brittleness.' But they were not often silent. There was so much to +say. They were still exploring each other, after the hurry of their +marriage, and short engagement. For a time she chattered to him about +her own early life--their old red-brick house in a Manchester suburb, +with its good-sized rooms, its mahogany doors, its garden, in which her +father used to work--his only pleasure, after his wife's death, besides +'the concerts'--'You know we've awfully good music in Manchester!' As +for her own scattered and scanty education, she had begun to speak of it +almost with bitterness. George's talk and recollections betrayed quite +unconsciously the standards of the academic or highly-trained +professional class to which all his father's kindred belonged; and his +only sister, a remarkably gifted girl, who had died of pneumonia at +eighteen, just as she was going to Girton, seemed to Nelly, when he +occasionally described or referred to her, a miracle--a terrifying +miracle--of learning and accomplishment. + +Once indeed, she broke out in distress:--'Oh, George, I don't know +anything! Why wasn't I sent to school! We had a wretched little +governess who taught us nothing. And then I'm lazy--I never was +ambitious--like Bridget. Do you mind that I'm so stupid--do you mind?' + +And she laid her hands on his knee, as they sat together among the fern, +while her eyes searched his face in a real anxiety. + +What joy it was to laugh at her--to tease her! + +'_How_ stupid are you, darling? Tell me, exactly. It is of course a +terrible business. If I'd only known--' + +But she would be serious. + +'I don't know _any_ languages, George! Just a little French--but you'd +be ashamed if you heard me talking it. As to history--don't ask!' She +shrugged her shoulders despairingly. Then her face brightened. 'But +there's something! I do love poetry--I've read a lot of poetry.' + +'That's all right--so have I,' he said, promptly. + +'Isn't it strange--' her tone was thoughtful--'how people care for poetry +nowadays! A few years ago, one never heard of people--ordinary +people--_buying_ poetry, new poetry--or reading it. But I know a shop in +Manchester that's just full of poetry--new books and old books--and the +shop-man told me that people buy it almost more than anything. Isn't it +funny? What makes them do it? Is it the war?' + +Sarratt considered it, while making a smooth path for a gorgeous green +beetle through the bit of turf beside him. + +'I suppose it's the war,' he said at last. 'It does change fellows. It's +easy enough to go along bluffing and fooling in ordinary times. Most men +don't know what they think--or what they feel--or whether they feel +anything. But somehow--out there--when you see the things other fellows +are doing--when you know the things you may have to do yourself--well----' + +'Yes, yes--go on!' she said eagerly, and he went on, but reluctantly, +for he had seen her shiver, and the white lids fall a moment over her +eyes. + +'--It doesn't seem unnatural--or hypocritical--or canting--to talk and +feel--sometimes--as you couldn't talk or feel at home, with life going +on just as usual. I've had to censor letters, you see, darling--and the +letters some of the roughest and stupidest fellows write, you'd never +believe. And there's no pretence in it either. What would be the good of +pretending out there? No--it's just the pace life goes--and the +fire--and the strain of it. It's awful--and _horrible_--and yet you +wouldn't not be there for the world.' + +His voice dropped a little; he looked out with veiled eyes upon the lake +chequered with the blue and white of its inverted sky. Nelly +guessed--trembling--at the procession of images that was passing through +them; and felt for a moment strangely separated from him--separated and +desolate. + +'George, it's dreadful now--to be a woman!' + +She spoke in a low appealing voice, pressing up against him, as though +she begged the soul in him that had been momentarily unconscious of her, +to come back to her. + +He laughed, and the vision before his eyes broke up. + +'Darling, it's adorable now--to be a woman! How I shall think of you, +when I'm out there!--away from all the grime and the horror--sitting by +this lake, and looking--as you do now.' + +He drew a little further away from her, and lying on his elbows on the +grass, he began to read her, as it were, from top to toe, that he might +fix every detail in his mind. + +'I like that little hat so much, Nelly!--and that blue cloak is just +ripping! And what's that you've got at your waist--a silver +buckle?--yes! I gave it you. Mind you wear it, when I'm away, and tell +me you're wearing it--then I can fancy it.' + +'Will you ever have time--to think of me--George?' + +She bent towards him. + +He laughed. + +'Well, not when I'm going over the parapet to attack the Boches. +Honestly, one thinks of nothing then but how one can get one's men +across. But you won't come off badly, my little Nell--for +thoughts--night or day. And you mustn't think of us too sentimentally. +It's quite true that men write wonderful letters--and wonderful verse +too--men of all ranks--things you'd never dream they could write. I've +got a little pocket-book full that I've collected. I've left it in +London, but I'll show you some day. But bless you, nobody _talks_ about +their feelings at the front. We're a pretty slangy lot in the trenches, +and when we're in billets, we read novels and rag each other--and +_sleep_--my word, we do sleep!' + +He rolled on his back, and drew his hat over his eyes a moment, for +even in the fresh mountain air the June sun was fierce. Nelly sat still, +watching him, as he had watched her--all the young strength and +comeliness of the man to whom she had given herself. + +And as she did so there came swooping down upon her, like the blinding +wings of a Fury, the remembrance of a battle picture she had seen that +morning: a bursting shell--limp figures on the ground. Oh not +George--not _George_--never! The agony ran through her, and her fingers +gripped the turf beside her. Then it passed, and she was silently proud +that she had been able to hide it. But it had left her pale and +restless. She sprang up, and they went along the high path leading to +Grasmere and Langdale. + +Presently at the top of the little neck which separates Rydal from +Grasmere they came upon an odd cavalcade. In front walked an elderly +lady, with a huge open bag slung round her, in which she carried an +amazing load of the sphagnum moss that English and Scotch women were +gathering at that moment all over the English and Scotch mountains for +the surgical purposes of the war. Behind her came a pony, with a boy. +The pony was laden with the same moss, so was the boy. The lady's face +was purple with exertion, and in her best days she could never have been +other than plain; her figure was shapeless. She stopped the pony as she +neared the Sarratts, and addressed them--panting. + +'I beg your pardon!--but have you by chance seen another lady carrying +a bag like mine? I brought a friend with me to help gather this +stuff--but we seem to have missed each other on the top of Silver +How--and I can't imagine what's happened to her.' + +The voice was exceedingly musical and refined--but there was a touch of +power in it--a curious note of authority. She stood, recovering breath +and looking at the young people with clear and penetrating eyes, +suddenly observant. + +The Sarratts could only say that they had not come across any other +moss-gatherer on the road. + +The strange lady sighed--but with a half humorous, half philosophical +lifting of the eyebrows. + +'It was very stupid of me to miss her--but you really can't come to +grief on these fells in broad daylight. However, if you do meet her--a +lady with a sailor hat, and a blue jersey--will you tell her that I've +gone on to Ambleside?' + +Sarratt politely assured her that they would look out for her companion. +He had never yet seen a grey-haired Englishwoman, of that age, carry so +heavy a load, and he liked both her pluck and her voice. She reminded +him of the French peasant women in whose farms he often lodged behind +the lines. She meanwhile was scrutinising him--the badge on his cap, and +the two buttons on his khaki sleeve. + +'I think I know who you are,' she said, with a sudden smile. 'Aren't +you Mr. and Mrs. Sarratt? Sir William Farrell told me about you.' Then +she turned to the boy--'Go on, Jim. I'll come soon.' + +A conversation followed on the mountain path, in which their new +acquaintance gave her name as Miss Hester Martin, living in a cottage on +the outskirts of Ambleside, a cousin and old friend of Sir William +Farrell; an old friend indeed, it seemed, of all the local residents; +absorbed in war-work of different kinds, and somewhere near sixty years +of age; but evidently neither too old nor too busy to have lost the +natural interest of a kindly spinster in a bride and bridegroom, +especially when the bridegroom was in khaki, and under orders for the +front. She promised, at once, to come and see Mrs. Sarratt, and George, +beholding in her a possible motherly friend for Nelly when he should be +far away, insisted that she should fix a day for her call before his +departure. Nelly added her smiles to his. Then, with a pleasant nod, +Miss Martin left them, refusing all their offers to help her with her +load. '"My strength is as the strength of ten,"' she said with a flash +of fun in her eyes--'But I won't go on with the quotation. Good-bye.' + +George and Nelly went on towards a spot above a wood in front of them to +which she had directed them, as a good point to rest and lunch. She, +meanwhile, pursued her way towards Ambleside, her thoughts much more +occupied with the young couple than with her lost companion. The little +thing was a beauty, certainly. Easy to see what had attracted William +Farrell! An uncommon type--and a very artistic type; none of your +milk-maids. She supposed before long William would be proposing to draw +her--hm!--with the husband away? It was to be hoped some watch-dog would +be left. William was a good fellow--no real malice in him--had never +_meant_ to injure anybody, that she knew of--but-- + +Miss Martin's cogitations however went no farther in exploring that +'but.' She was really very fond of her cousin William, who bore an +amount of discipline from her that no one else dared to apply to the +owner of Carton. Tragic, that he couldn't fight! That would have brought +out all there was in him. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +'Glorious!' + +Nelly Sarratt stood lost in the beauty of the spectacle commanded by Sir +William Farrell's cottage. It was placed in a by-road on the western +side of Loughrigg, that smallest of real mountains, beloved of poets and +wanderers. The ground dropped sharply below it to a small lake or tarn, +its green banks fringed with wood, while on the further side the purple +crag and noble head of Wetherlam rose out of sunlit mist,--thereby +indefinitely heightened--into a pearl and azure sky. To the north also, +a splendid wilderness of fells, near and far; with the Pikes and Bowfell +leading the host. White mists--radiant mists--perpetually changing, made +a magic interweaving of fell with fell, of mountain with sky. Every tint +of blue and purple, of amethyst and sapphire lay melted in the chalice +carved out by the lake and its guardian mountains. Every line of that +chalice was harmonious as though each mountain and valley filled its +place consciously, in a living order; and in the grandeur of the whole +there was no terror, no hint of a world hostile and inaccessible to man, +as in the Alps and the Rockies. + +'These mountains are one's friends,' said Farrell, smiling as he stood +beside Nelly, pointing out the various peaks by name. 'If you know them +only a little, you can trust yourself to them, at any hour of the day or +night. Whereas, in the Alps, I always feel myself "a worm and no man"!' + +'I have never been abroad,' said Nelly shyly. + +For once he found an _ingenue_ attractive. + +'Then you have it to come--when the world is sane again. But some things +you will have missed for ever. For instance, you will never see +Rheims--as it was. I have spent months at Rheims in old days, drawing +and photographing. I must show you my things. They have a tragic value +now.' + +And taking out a portfolio from a rack near him, he opened it and put it +on a stand before her. + +Nelly, who had in her the real instincts of the artist, turned over some +very masterly drawings, in mingled delight and despair. + +'If I could only do something like that!' she said, pointing to a study +of some of the famous windows at Rheims, with vague forms of saint and +king emerging from a conflagration of colour, kindled by the afternoon +sun, and dyeing the pavement below. + +'Ah, that took me some time. It was difficult. But here are some +fragments you'll like--just bits from the facade and the monuments.' + +The strength of the handling excited her. She looked at them in silence; +remembering with disgust all the pretty sentimental work she had been +used to copy. She began to envisage what this commonly practised art +may be; what a master can do with it. Standards leaped up. Alp on Alp +appeared. When George was gone she would _work_, yes, she would work +hard--to surprise him when he came back. + +Sir William meanwhile was increasingly taken with his guest. She was +shy, very diffident, very young; but in the few things she said, he +discerned--or fancied--the stirrings of a real taste--real intelligence. +And she was prettier and more fetching than ever--with her small dark +head, and her lovely mouth. He would like to draw the free sensuous line +of it, the beautiful moulding of the chin. What a prize for the young +man! Was he aware of his own good fortune? Was he adequate? + +'I say, how jolly!' said Sarratt, coming up to look. 'My wife, Sir +William--I think she told you--has got a turn for this kind of thing. +These will give her ideas.' + +And while he looked at the drawings, he slipped a hand into his wife's +arm, smiling down upon her, and commenting on the sketches. There was +nothing in what he said. He only 'knew what he liked,' and an unfriendly +bystander would have been amused by his constant assumption that Nelly's +sketches were as good as anybody's. Entirely modest for himself, he was +inclined to be conceited for her, she checking him, with rather flushed +cheeks. But Farrell liked him all the better, both for the ignorance and +the pride. The two young people standing there together, so evidently +absorbed in each other, yet on the brink of no ordinary parting, touched +the romantic note in him. He was very sorry for them--especially for the +bride--and eagerly, impulsively wished to befriend them. + +In the background, the stout lady whom the Sarratts had met on Loughrigg +Terrace, Miss Hester Martin, was talking to Miss Farrell, while Bridget +Cookson was carrying on conversation with a tall officer who carried his +arm in a sling, and was apparently yet another convalescent officer from +the Carton hospital, whom Cicely Farrell had brought over in her motor +to tea at her brother's cottage. His name seemed to be Captain +Marsworth, and he was doing his best with Bridget; but there were great +gaps in their conversation, and Bridget resentfully thought him dull. +Also she perceived--for she had extremely quick eyes in such +matters--that Captain Marsworth, while talking to her, seemed to be +really watching Miss Farrell, and she at once jumped to the conclusion +that there was something 'up' between him and Miss Farrell. + +Cicely Farrell certainly took no notice of him. She was sitting perched +on the high end of a sofa smoking a cigarette and dangling her feet, +which were encased, as before, in high-heeled shoes and immaculate +gaiters. She was dressed in white serge with a cap and jersey of the +brightest possible green. Her very open bodice showed a string of fine +pearls and she wore pearl ear-rings. Seen in the same room with Nelly +Sarratt she could hardly be guessed at less than twenty-eight. She was +the mature woman in full possession of every feminine weapon, +experienced, subtle, conscious, a little hard, a little malicious. Nelly +Sarratt beside her looked a child. Miss Farrell had glanced at her with +curiosity, but had not addressed many words to her. She had concluded at +once that it was a type that did not interest her. It interested William +of course, because he was professionally on the look out for beauty. But +that was his affair. Miss Farrell had no use for anything so unfledged +and immature. And as for the sister, Miss Cookson, she had no points of +attraction whatever. The young man, the husband, was well +enough--apparently a gentleman; but Miss Farrell felt that she would +have forgotten his existence when the tea-party was over. So she had +fallen back on conversation with her cousin. That Cousin Hester--dear, +shapeless, Puritanical thing!--disapproved of her, her dress, her +smoking, her ways, and her opinions, Cicely well knew--but that only +gave zest to their meetings, which were not very frequent. + +Meanwhile Bridget, in lieu of conversation and while tea was still +preparing, was making mental notes of the cottage. It consisted +apparently of two sitting-rooms, and a studio--in which they were to +have tea--with two or three bedrooms above. It had been developed out of +a Westmorland farm, but developed beyond recognition. The spacious rooms +panelled in plain oak, were furnished sparely, with few things, but +those of the most beautiful and costly kind. Old Persian rugs and +carpets, a few Renaissance mirrors, a few priceless 'pots,' a picture or +two, hangings and coverings of a dim purple--the whole, made by these +various items and objects, expressed a taste perhaps originally florid, +but tamed by long and fastidious practice of the arts of decoration. + +In the study where tea had been laid, Nelly could not restrain her +wonder and delight. On one wall hung ten of the most miraculous +Turners--drawings from his best period, each of them irreplaceably +famous. Another wall showed a group of Boningtons--a third a similar +gathering of Whistlers. Sir William, charmed with the bride's pleasure, +took down drawing after drawing, carried them to the light for her, and +discoursed upon them. + +'Would you like that to copy?'--he said, putting a Turner into her +lap--a marvel of blue mountain peaks, and winding river, and aerial +distance. + +'Oh, I shouldn't dare--I should be afraid!' said Nelly, hardly liking to +take the treasure in her own hands. 'Aren't they--aren't they worth +immense sums?' + +Sir William laughed. + +'Well, of course, they're valuable--everybody wants them. But if you +would ever like that one to copy, you shall have it, and any other that +would help you. I know you wouldn't let it be hurt, if you could help +it--because you'd love it--as I do. You wouldn't let a Turner drawing +like that fade and blister in the sun--as I've seen happen again and +again in houses he painted them for. Brutes! Hanging's too good for +people who maltreat Turners. Let me relieve you of it now. I must get +you some tea. But the drawing will come to you next week. You won't be +able to think of it till then.' + +He looked at her with the ardent sympathy which sprang easily from his +quick, emotional temperament, and made it possible for him to force his +way rapidly into intimacy, where he desired to be intimate. But Nelly +shrank into herself. She put the drawing away, and did not seem to care +to look at any more. Farrell wished he had left his remark unspoken, and +finding that he had somehow extinguished her smiles and her talk, he +relieved her of his company, and went away to talk to Sarratt and +Captain Marsworth. As soon as tea was over, Nelly beckoned to her +husband. + +'Are you going so soon?' said Hester Martin, who had been unobtrusively +mothering her, since Farrell left her--'When may I come and see you?' + +'To-morrow?' said Nelly vaguely, looking up. 'George hoped you would +come, before he goes. There are--there are only three days.' + +'I will come to-morrow,' said Miss Martin, touching Nelly's hand softly. +The cold, small fingers moved, as though instinctively, towards her, and +took refuge in her warm capacious hand. Then Nelly whispered to +Bridget--appealingly-- + +'I want to go, Bridget.' + +Bridget frowned with annoyance. Why should Nelly want to go so soon? The +beauty and luxury of the cottage--the mere tea-table with all its +perfect appointments of fine silver and china, the multitude of cakes, +the hot-house fruit, the well-trained butler--all the signs of wealth +that to Nelly were rather intimidating, and to Sarratt--in +war-time--incongruous and repellent, were to Bridget the satisfaction of +so many starved desires. This ease and lavishness; the best of +everything and no trouble to get it; the 'cottage' as perfect as the +palace;--it was so, she felt, that life should be lived, to be really +worth living. She envied the Farrells with an intensity of envy. Why +should some people have so much and others so little? And as she watched +Sir William's attentions to Nelly, she said to herself, for the +hundredth time, that but for Nelly's folly, she could easily have +captured wealth like this. Why not Sir William himself? It would not +have been at all unlikely that they should come across him on one of +their Westmorland holidays. The thought of their dingy Manchester rooms, +of the ceaseless care and economy that would be necessary for their +joint menage when Sarratt was gone, filled her with disgust. Their +poverty was wholly unnecessary--it was Nelly's silly fault. She felt at +times as though she hated her brother-in-law, who had so selfishly +crossed their path, and ruined the hopes and dreams which had been +strengthening steadily in her mind during the last two years +especially, since Nelly's beauty had become more pronounced. + +'It's not at all late!' she said, angrily, in her sister's ear. + +'Oh, but George wants to take me to Easedale,' said Nelly under her +breath. 'It will be our last long walk.' + +Bridget had to submit to be torn away. A little motor was waiting +outside. It had brought the Sarratts and Bridget from Rydal, and was to +take Bridget home, dropping the Sarratts at Grasmere for an evening +walk. Sir William tried indeed to persuade them to stay longer, till a +signal from his cousin Hester stopped him; 'Well, if you must go, you +must,' he said, regretfully. 'Cicely, you must arrange with Mrs. +Sarratt, when she will pay us a visit--and'--he looked uncertainly round +him, as though he had only just remembered Bridget's existence--'of +course your sister must come too.' + +Cicely came forward, and with a little lisp, repeated her brother's +invitation--rather perfunctorily. + +Sir William took his guests to their car, and bade a cordial farewell to +Sarratt. + +'Good-bye--and good luck. What shall I wish you? The D.S.O., and a +respectable leave before the summer's over? You will be in for great +things.' + +Sarratt shook his head. + +'Not till we get more guns, and tons more shell!' + +'Oh, the country's waking up!' + +'It's about time!' said Sarratt, gravely, as he climbed into the car. +Sir William bent towards him. + +'Anything that we can do to help your wife and her sister, during their +stay here, you may be sure we shall do.' + +'It's very kind of you,' said the young officer gratefully, as he +grasped Farrell's hand. And Nelly sent a shy glance of thanks towards +the speaker, while Bridget sat erect and impassive. + +Sir William watched them disappear, and then returned to the tea-room. +He was received with a burst of laughter from his sister. + +'Well, Willy, so you're caught--fairly caught! What am I to do? When am +I to ask her? And the sister too?' + +And lighting another cigarette, Cicely looked at her brother with +mocking eyes. + +Farrell reddened a little, but kept his temper. + +'In a week or two I should think, you might ask her, when she's got over +her husband's going away.' + +'They get over it very soon--in general,' said Cicely coolly. + +'Not that sort.' + +The voice was Captain Marsworth's. + +Cicely appeared to take no notice. But her eyelids flickered. Hester +Martin interposed. + +'A dear, little, appealing thing,' she said, warmly--'and her husband +evidently a capital fellow. I didn't take to the sister--but who knows? +She may be an excellent creature, all the same. I'm glad I shall be so +near them. It will be a help to that poor child to find her something to +do.' + +Cicely laughed. + +'You think she'll hunt sphagnum--and make bandages? I don't.' + +'Why this "thusness?"' said Miss Martin raising her eyebrows. 'What has +made you take a dislike to the poor little soul, Cicely? There never was +anyone more plainly in love--' + +'Or more to be pitied,' said the low voice in the background--low but +emphatic. + +It was now Cicely's turn to flush. + +'Of course I know I'm a beast,' she said defiantly,--'but the fact is I +didn't like either of them!--the sisters, I mean.' + +'What oh earth is there to dislike in Mrs. Sarratt!' cried Farrell. +'You're quite mad, Cicely.' + +'She's too pretty,' said Miss Farrell obstinately--and too--too simple. +And nobody as pretty as that can be really simple. It's only pretence.' + +As she spoke Cicely rose to her feet, and began to put on her veil in +front of one of the old mirrors. 'But of course, Will, I shall behave +nicely to your friends. Don't I always behave nicely to them?' + +She turned lightly to her brother, who looked at her only half appeased. + +'I shan't give you a testimonial to-day, Cicely.' + +'Then I must do without it. Well, this day three weeks, a party at +Carton, for Mrs. Sarratt. Will that give her time to settle down?' + +'Unless her husband is killed by then,' said Captain Marsworth, quietly. +'His regiment is close to Loos. He'll be in the thick of it directly.' + +'Oh no,' said Cicely, twisting the ends of her veil lightly between a +finger and thumb. 'Just a "cushy" wound, that'll bring him home on a +three months' leave, and give her the bore of nursing him.' + +'Cicely, you are a hard-hearted wretch!' said her brother, angrily. 'I +think Marsworth and I will go and stroll till the motor is ready.' + +The two men disappeared, and Cicely let herself drop into an arm-chair. +Her eyes, as far as could be seen through her veil, were blazing; the +redness in her cheeks had improved upon the rouge with which they were +already touched; and the gesture with which she pulled on her gloves was +one of excitement. + +'Cicely dear--what is the matter with you?' said Miss Martin in +distress. She was fond of Cicely, in spite of that young lady's +extravagances of dress and manner, and she divined something gone wrong. + +'Nothing is the matter--nothing at all. It is only necessary, sometimes, +to shock people,' said Cicely, calming down. She threw her head back +against the chair and closed her eyes, while her lips still smiled +triumphantly. + +'Were you trying to shock Captain Marsworth?' + +'It's so easy--it's hardly worth doing,' said Cicely, sleepily. Then +after a pause--'Ah, isn't that the motor?' + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile the little hired motor from Ambleside had dropped the Sarratts +on the Easedale road, and carried Bridget away in an opposite direction, +to the silent but great relief of the newly-married pair. And soon the +husband and wife had passed the last farm in the valley, and were +walking up a rough climbing path towards Sour Milk Ghyll, and Easedale +Tarn. The stream was full, and its many channels ran white and foaming +down the steep rock face, where it makes its chief leap to the valley. +The summer weather held, and every tree and fell-side stood bathed in a +warm haze, suffused with the declining light. All round, encircling +fells in a purple shadow; to the north and east, great slopes +appearing--Helvellyn, Grisedale, Fairfield. They walked hand in hand +where the path admitted--almost silent--passionately conscious of each +other--and of the beauty round them. Sometimes they stopped to gather a +flower, or notice a bird; and then there would be a few words, with a +meaning only for themselves. And when they reached the tarn,--a magical +shadowed mirror of brown and purple water,--they sat for long beside it, +while the evening faded, and a breathless quiet came across the hills, +stilling all their voices, even, one might have fancied, the voice of +the hurrying stream itself. At the back of Nelly's mind there was always +the same inexorable counting of the hours; and in his a profound and +sometimes remorseful pity for this gentle creature who had given herself +to him, together with an immense gratitude. + +The stars came out, and a light easterly wind sprang up, sending ripples +across the tarn, and stirring last year's leaves among the new grass. It +had grown chilly, and Sarratt took Nelly's blue cloak from his arm and +wrapped her in it--then in his arms, as she rested against him. +Presently he felt her hand drop languidly from his, and he knew +that--not the walk, but the rush of those half-spoken thoughts which +held them both, had brought exhaustion. + +'Darling--we must go home!' He bent over her. + +She rose feebly. + +'Why am I so tired? It's absurd.' + +'Let me carry you a little.' + +'You couldn't!' She smiled at him. + +But he lifted her with ease--she was so small and slight, while in him a +fresh wave of youth and strength had risen, with happiness, and the +reaction of convalescence. She made no resistance, and he carried her +down some way, through the broad mingled light. Her face was hidden on +his breast, and felt the beating of his life. She said to herself more +than once that to die so would be bliss. The marvel of love bewildered +her. 'What was I like before it?--what shall I be, when he is gone?' + +When she made him set her down, she said gaily that she was all right, +and gave him a kiss of thanks, simply, like a child. The valley lay +before them with its scattered lights, and they pressed on through the +twilight--two dim and spectral figures--spirits it seemed, who had been +on the heights sharing ambrosial feasts with the Immortals, and had but +just descended to the common earth again. + + * * * * * + +Nelly spent the next three days, outside their walks and boatings on the +lake, in whatever wifely offices to her man still remained to +her--marking his new socks and khaki shirts, furnishing a small medicine +chest, and packing a tin of special delicacies, meat lozenges, +chocolate, various much advertised food tabloids, and his favourite +biscuits. Sarratt laughed over them, but had not the heart to dissuade +her. She grew paler every day, but was always gay and smiling so long as +his eyes were on her; and his sound young sleep knew nothing of her +quiet stifled weeping at those moments of the night, when the bodily and +nervous forces are at their lowest, and all the future blackens. Miss +Martin paid them several visits, bringing them books and flowers. Books +and flowers too arrived from Carton--with a lavish supply of cigarettes +for the departing soldier. Nelly had the piteous sense that everyone was +sorry for her--Mrs. Weston, the kind landlady, Milly, the little +housemaid. It seemed to her sometimes that the mere strangers she met in +the road knew that George was going, and looked at her compassionately. + +The last day came, showery in the morning, and clearing to a glorious +evening, with all the new leaf and growing hayfields freshened by rain, +and all the streams brimming. Bridget came over in the afternoon, and as +she watched her sister's face, became almost kind, almost sympathetic. +George proposed to walk back part of the way to Ambleside with his +sister-in-law, and Nelly with a little frown of alarm watched them go. + +But the tete-a-tete was not disagreeable to either. Bridget was taken +aback, to begin with, by some very liberal proposals of Sarratt's on the +subject of her and Nelly's joint expenses during his absence. She was to +be Nelly's guest--they both wished it--and he said kindly that he +quite understood Nelly's marriage had made a difference to her, and he +hoped she would let them make it up to her, as far and as soon as they +could. Bridget was surprised into amiability,--and Sarratt found a +chance of saying-- + +'And you'll let Nelly talk about the war--though it does bore you? She +won't be able to help it--poor child!' + +Bridget supposed that now she too would have to talk about the war. He +needn't be afraid, she added drily. She would look after Nelly. And she +looked so masterful and vigorous as she said it, that Sarratt could only +believe her. + +They shook hands in the road, better friends to all seeming than they +had been yet. And Nelly received George's account of the conversation +with a sigh of relief. + + * * * * * + +That night the midsummer moon would be at the full, and as the clouds +vanished from the sky, and the soft purple night came down, Nelly and +Sarratt leaving every piece of luggage behind them, packed, labelled, +locked, and piled in the hall, ready for the cart that was to call for +it in the early hours--took their way to the lake and the boathouse. +They had been out at night once before, but this was to be the crowning +last thing--the last joint memory. + +It was eleven o'clock before the oars dipped into the water, and as they +neared the larger island, the moon, rearing its bright head over the +eastern fells, shot a silver pathway through the lake; and on either +side of the pathway, the mirrored woods and crags, more dim and ghostly +than by day, seemed to lead downward to that very threshold and entrance +of the underworld, through which the blinded Theban king vanished from +the eyes of men. Silver-bright the woods and fell-side, on the west; +while on the east the woods in shadow, lay sleeping, 'moon-charmed.' The +air was balmy; and one seemed to hear through it the steady soft beat of +the summer life, rising through the leaves and grass and flowers. Every +sound was enchantment--the drip of water from the oars, the hooting of +an owl on the island, even the occasional distant voices, and tapping of +horses' feet on the main road bordering the lake. + +Sarratt let the oars drift, and the boat glided, as though of its own +will, past the island, and into the shadow beyond it. Now it was Silver +How, and all the Grasmere mountains, that caught the 'hallowing' light. + +Nelly sat bare-headed, her elbows on her knees, and her face propped in +her hands. She was in white, with a white shawl round her, and the grace +of the slight form and dark head stirred anew in Sarratt that astonished +and exquisite sense of possession which had been one of the main +elements of consciousness, during their honeymoon. Of late indeed it had +been increasingly met and wrestled with by something harsher and +sterner; by the instinct of the soldier, of the fighting man, foreseeing +a danger to his own will, a weakening of the fibre on which his effort +and his power depend. There were moments when passionately as he loved +her, he was glad to be going; secretly glad that the days which were in +truth a greater test of endurance than the trenches were coming to an +end. He must be able to trust himself and his own nerve to the utmost. +Away from her, love would be only a strengthening power; here beside +her, soul and sense contended. + +A low voice came out of the shadow. + +'George--I'm not going with you to the station.' + +'Best not, dearest--much best.' + +A silence. Then the voice spoke again. + +'How long will it take you, George, getting to the front?' + +'About twenty-four hours from the base, perhaps more. It's a weary +business.' + +'Will you be in action at once?' + +'I think so. That part of the line's very short of men.' + +'When shall I hear?' + +He laughed. + +'By every possible post, I should think, darling. You've given me +post-cards enough.' + +And he tapped his breast-pocket, where lay the little writing-case she +had furnished for every imaginable need. + +'George!' + +'Yes, darling.' + +'When you're tired, you're--you're not to write.' + +He put out his long arms, and took her hands in his. + +'I shan't be tired--and I shall write.' + +She looked down upon the hands holding hers. In each of the little +fingers there was a small amusing deformity--a slight crook or +twist--which, as is the way of lovers, was especially dear to her. She +remembered once, before they were engaged, flaming out at Bridget, who +had made mock of it. She stooped now, and kissed the fingers. Then she +bowed her forehead upon them. + +'George!'--he could only just hear her--'I know Miss Martin will be +kind to me--and I shall find plenty to do. You're never to worry about +me.' + +'I won't--so long as you write to me--every day.' + +There was again a silence. Then she lifted her head, and as the boat +swung out of the shadow, the moonlight caught her face. + +'You'll take that Wordsworth I gave you, won't you, George? It'll remind +you--of this.' Her gesture showed the lake and the mountains. + +'Of course, I shall take it. I shall read it whenever I can--perhaps +more for your sake--than Wordsworth's.' + +'It'll make us remember the same things,' she murmured. + +'As if we wanted anything to make us remember!' + +'George!' her voice was almost a sob--'It's been almost too perfect. +Sometimes--just for that--I'm afraid.' + +'Don't be, darling. The God we believe in _isn't_ a jealous God! That's +one of the notions one grows out of--over there.' + +'Do you think He's our friend, George--that He really cares?' + +The sweet appealing voice touched him unbearably. + +'Yes, I do think it--' he said, firmly, after a pause. 'I do believe +it--with all my heart.' + +'Then I'll believe it!' she said, with a long breath; and there was +silence again, till suddenly over the water came the sound of the Rydal +Chapel bell, striking midnight. Nelly withdrew her hands and sat up. + +'George, we must go home. You must have a good night.' + +He obeyed her, took up the oars, and pulled swiftly to the boathouse. +She sat in a kind of dream. It was all over, the heavenly time--all +done. She had had the very best of life--could it ever come again? In +her pain and her longing she was strangely conscious of growth and +change. The Nelly of three weeks back seemed to have nothing to do with +her present self, to be another human being altogether. + +He made her go to bed, and remained in the sitting-room himself, under +pretence of some papers he must put in order. When the sounds in the +next room ceased, and he knew that she must be lying still, waiting for +him, he sat down, took pen and paper, and began to write to her--a +letter to be given to her if he fell. He had already written a letter of +business directions, which was at his lawyer's. This was of another +kind. + +'My Darling,--this will be very short. It is only to tell you that if I +fall--if we never meet again, after to-morrow, you are to think first of +all--and always--that you have made a man so happy that if no more joy +can come to him on earth, he could die now--as far as he himself is +concerned--blessing God for his life. I never imagined that love could +be so perfect. You have taught me. God reward you--God watch over you. +If I die, you will be very sad--that will be the bitterness to me, if I +have time to know it. But this is my last prayer to you--to be comforted +by this remembrance--of what you have done for me--what you have been to +me. And in time, my precious one, comfort will come. There may be a +child--if so, you will love it for us both. But if not, you must still +take comfort. You must be willing, for my sake, to be comforted. And +remember:--don't be angry with me, darling--if in years to come, another +true love, and another home should be offered you, don't refuse +them--Nelly! You were born to be loved. And if my spirit lives, and +understands; what could it feel but joy that your sorrow was healed--my +best beloved! + +'This will be given to you only if I die. With the deepest gratitude and +the tenderest love that a man can feel, I bid you good-bye--my precious +wife--good-bye!' + +He put it up with a steady hand, and addressed it first to Nelly, +enclosing it in a larger envelope addressed to his oldest friend, a +school-fellow, who had been his best man at their marriage. Then he +stole downstairs, unlocked the front door, and crossing the road in the +moonlight, he put the letter into the wall post-box on the further side. +And before re-entering the house, he stood a minute or two in the road, +letting the fresh wind from the fells beat upon his face, and trying +the while to stamp on memory the little white house where Nelly lay, the +trees overhanging it, the mountain tops beyond the garden wall. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +'Is Mrs. Sarratt in?' asked Miss Martin of Mrs. Weston's little maid, +Milly. + +Milly wore a look of animation, as of one who has been finding the world +interesting. + +'She's gone a walk--over the bridge, Miss.' + +'Has she had news of Mr. Sarratt?' + +'Yes, Miss,' said the girl eagerly. 'He's all right. Mrs. Sarratt got a +telegram just a couple of hours ago.' + +'And you think I shall find her by the lake?' + +Milly thought so. Then advancing a step, she said confidentially-- + +'She's been dreadfully upset this two days, Miss. Not that she'd say +anything. But she's looked------' + +'I know. I saw her yesterday.' + +'And it's been a job to get her to eat anything. Mrs. Weston's been +after her with lots of things--tasty you know, Miss--to try and tempt +her. But she wouldn't hardly look at them.' + +'Thank you, Milly'--said Miss Martin, after a pause. 'Well, I'll find +her. Is Miss Cookson here?' + +Milly's candid countenance changed at once. She frowned--it might have +been said she scowled. + +'She came the day Mr. Sarratt went away, Miss. Well of course it's not +my place to speak, Miss--but _she_ don't do Mrs. Sarratt no good!' Miss +Martin couldn't help a smile--but she shook her head reprovingly all the +same, as she hastened away. Milly had been in her Sunday-school class, +and they were excellent friends. + +Across the Rotha, she pursued a little footpath leading to the lakeside. +It was a cold day, with flying clouds and gleams on hill and water. The +bosom of Silver How held depths of purple shadow, but there were lights +like elves at play, chasing each other along the Easedale fells, and the +stony side of Nab Scar. + +Beside the water, on a rock, sat Nelly Sarratt. An open telegram and a +bundle of letters lay on her lap, her hands loosely folded over them. +She was staring at the water and the hills, with absent eyes, and her +small face wore an expression--relaxed and sweet--like that of a +comforted child, which touched Miss Martin profoundly. + +'So you've heard?--you poor thing!' said the elder woman smiling, as she +laid a friendly hand on the girl's shoulder. + +Nelly looked up--and drew a long deep breath. + +'He's all right, and the battalion's going to have three weeks' +rest--behind the lines.' + +Her dark eyes shone. Hester Martin sat down on the turf beside her. + +'Capital! When did you hear last?' + +'Just the day before the "push." Of course he couldn't tell me +anything--but somehow I knew. And then the papers since--they're pretty +ghastly,' said Nelly, with a faint laugh and a shiver. 'The farm under +the hill there'--she pointed--'you know about them?' + +'Yes. I saw them after the telegram,' said Miss Martin, sadly. 'Of +course it was the only son. These small families are too awful. Every +married woman ought to have six sons!' + +Nelly dropped her face out of sight, shading it with her hands. +Presently she said, in a dreamy voice of content-- + +'I shall get a letter to-morrow.' + +'How do you know?' + +Nelly held out the telegram, which said-- + +'All safe. Posted letter last night. Love.' + +'It _can't_ take more than forty-eight hours to come--can it?' Then she +lifted her eyes again to the distant farm, with its white front and its +dark patch of yews. + +'I keep thinking of _their_ telegram--' she said, slowly--'and then of +mine. Oh, this war is too _horrible!'_ She threw up her hands with a +sudden wild gesture, and then let one of them drop into Hester Martin's +grasp. 'In George's last letter he told me he had to go with a message +across a bit of ground that was being shelled. He went with a +telephonist. He crossed first. The other man was to wait and follow him +after an interval. George got across, then the man with the telephone +wire started, and was shot--just as he reached George. He fell into +George's arms--and died. And it might have been George--it might have +been George just as well! It might be George any day!' + +Miss Martin looked at her in perplexity. She had no ready-made +consolations--she never had. Perhaps it was that which made her kind +wrinkled face such a welcome sight to those in trouble. But at last she +said--'It is all we women can do--to be patient--and hope--not to let +our courage go down.' + +Nelly shook her head. + +'I am always saying that to myself--but! when the news comes--_if_ it +comes--what good will that be to me! Oh, I haven't been idle--indeed I +haven't,' she added piteously--'I've worked myself tired every day--just +not to think!' + +'I know you have,' Miss Martin pressed the hand in hers. 'Well, now, +he'll be all safe for a fortnight------' + +'Perhaps three weeks,' Nelly corrected her, eagerly. Then she looked +round at her new friend, a shy smile lighting up her face, and +bringing back its bloom. + +'You know he writes to me nearly every day?' + +'It's the way people have--war or no war--when they're in love,' said +Hester Martin drily. 'And you--how often?' + +'_Every_ day. I haven't missed once. How could I?--when he wants me to +write--when I hear so often!' And her free hand closed possessively, +greedily, over the letters in her lap. + +Hester Martin surveyed her thoughtfully. + +'I wouldn't do war-work all day, if I were you,' she said at last. 'Why +don't you go on with your sketching?' + +'I was going to try this very afternoon. Sir William said he would give +me a lesson,' was the listless reply. + +'He's coming here?' + +'He said he would be walking this way, if it was fine,' said Nelly, +indifferently. + +Both relapsed into silence. Then Miss Martin enquired after Bridget. The +face beside her darkened a little. + +'She's very well. She knows about the telegram. She thought I was a +great goose to be so anxious. She's making an index now--for the book!' + +'The psychology book?' + +'Yes!' A pause--then Nelly looked round, flushing. + +'I can't talk to Bridget you see--about George--or the war. She just +thinks the world's mad--that it's six to one and half a dozen to the +other--that it doesn't matter at all who wins--so long of course as the +Germans don't come here. And as for me, if I was so foolish as to marry +a soldier in the middle of the war, why I must just take the +consequences--grin and bear it!' + +Her tone and look showed that in her clinging way she had begun to +claim the woman beside her as a special friend, while Hester Martin's +manner towards her bore witness that the claim excited a warm +response--that intimacy and affection had advanced rapidly since George +Sarratt's departure. + +'Why do you put up with it?' said Miss Martin, sharply. 'Couldn't you +get some cousin--some friend to stay with you?' + +Nelly shook her head. 'George wanted me to. But I told him I couldn't. +It would mean a quarrel. I could never quarrel with Bridget.' + +Miss Martin laughed indignantly. 'Why not--if she makes you miserable?' + +'I don't know. I suppose I'm afraid of her. And besides'--the words +came reluctantly--: 'she does a lot for me. I _ought_ to be very +grateful!' + +Yes, Hester Martin did know that, in a sense, Bridget did 'a lot' for +her younger sisters. It was not many weeks since she had made their +acquaintance, but there had been time for her to see how curiously +dependent young Mrs. Sarratt was on Miss Cookson. There was no real +sympathy between them; nor could Miss Martin believe that there was ever +much sense of kinship. But whenever there was anything to be done +involving any friction with the outside world, Bridget was ready to do +it, while Nelly invariably shrank from it. + +For instance, some rather troublesome legal business connected with +Nelly's marriage, and the reinvestment of a small sum of money, had +descended on the young wife almost immediately after George's +departure. She could hardly bring herself to look at the letter. What +did it matter? Let their trustee settle it. To be worrying about it +seemed to be somehow taking her mind from George--to be breaking in on +that imaginative vision of him, and his life in the trenches, which +while it tortured her, yet filled the blank of his absence. So Bridget +did it all--corresponded peremptorily with their rather old and +incompetent trustee, got all the signatures necessary out of Nelly, and +carried the thing through. Again, on another and smaller occasion, Miss +Martin had seen the two sisters confronted with a scandalous overcharge +for the carriage of some heavy luggage from Manchester. Nelly was +aghast; but she would have paid the sum demanded like a lamb, if Bridget +had not stepped in--grappled with carter and railway company, while +Nelly looked on, helpless but relieved. + +It was clear that Nelly's inborn wish to be liked, her quivering +responsiveness, together with a strong dose of natural indolence, made +her hate disagreement or friction of any kind. She was always +yielding--always ready to give in. But when Bridget in her harsh +aggravating way fought things out and won, Nelly was indeed often made +miserable, by the _ricochet_ of the wrath roused by Bridget's methods +upon herself; but she generally ended, all the same, by realising that +Bridget had done her a service which she could not have done for +herself. + +Hester Martin frankly thought the sister odious, and pitied the bride +for having to live with her. All the same she often found herself +wondering how Nelly would ever manage the practical business of life +alone, supposing loneliness fell to her at any time. But why should it +fall to her?--unless indeed Sarratt were killed in action. If he +survived the war he would make her the best of guides and husbands; she +would have children; and her sweetness, her sensitiveness would stiffen +under the impact of life to a serviceable toughness. But meanwhile what +could she do--poor little Ariadne!--but 'live and be lovely'--sew and +knit, and gather sphagnum moss--dreaming half her time, and no doubt +crying half the night. What dark circles already round the beautiful +eyes! And how transparent were the girl's delicate hands! Miss Martin +felt that she was watching a creature on whom love had been acting with +a concentrated and stimulating energy, bringing the whole being suddenly +and rapidly into flower. And now, what had been only stimulus and warmth +had become strain, and, sometimes, anguish, or fear. The poor drooping +plant could with difficulty maintain itself. + +For the moment however, Nelly, in her vast relief, was ready to talk and +think of quite ordinary matters. + +'Bridget is in a good temper with me to-day!' she said presently, +looking with a smile at her companion--'because--since the telegram +came--I told her I would accept Miss Farrell's invitation to go and +spend a Sunday with them.' + +'Well, it might distract you. But you needn't expect to get much out of +Cicely!' + +The old face lit up with its tolerant, half-sarcastic smile. + +'I shall be dreadfully afraid of her!' said Nelly. + +'No need to be. William will keep her in order. She is a foolish woman, +Cicely, and her own worst enemy, but--somehow'--The speaker paused. She +was about to say--'somehow I am fond of her'--when she suddenly wondered +whether the remark would be true, and stopped herself. + +'I think she's very--very good-looking'--said Nelly, heartily. 'Only, +why'--she hesitated, but her half-laughing look continued the sentence. + +'Why does she blacken her eyebrows, and paint her lips, and powder her +cheeks? Is that what you mean?' + +Nelly's look was apologetic. 'She doesn't really want it, does she?' she +said shyly, as though remembering that she was speaking to a kinswoman +of the person discussed. 'She could do so well without it.' + +'No--to be quite candid, I don't think she _would_ look so well without +it. That's the worst of it. It seems to suit her to be made up!--though +everybody knows it _is_ make-up.' + +'Of course, if George wanted me to "make up," I should do it at once,' +said Nelly, thoughtfully, propping her chin on her hands, and staring at +the lake. 'But he hates it. Is--is Miss Farrell--' she looked +round--'in love with anybody?' + +Miss Martin laughed. + +'I'll leave you to find out--when you go there. So if your husband liked +you to paint and powder, you would do it?' + +The older woman looked curiously at her companion. As she sat there, on +a rock above the lake, in a grey nurse's dress with a nurse's bonnet +tied under her chin, Hester Martin conveyed an impression of rugged and +unconscious strength which seemed to fuse her with the crag behind her. +She had been gathering sphagnum moss on the fells almost from sunrise +that morning; and by tea-time she was expecting a dozen munition-workers +from Barrow, whom she was to house, feed and 'do for,' in her little +cottage over the week-end. In the interval, she had climbed the steep +path to that white farm where death had just entered, and having mourned +with them that mourn, she had come now, as naturally, to rejoice with +Nelly Sarratt. + +Nelly considered her question, but not in any doubtfulness of mind. + +'Indeed, I would,' she said, decidedly. 'Isn't it my duty to make George +happy?' + +'What "George"? If Mr. Sarratt wanted you to paint and powder----' + +'He wouldn't be the "George" I married? There's something in that!' +laughed Nelly. Then she lifted her hand to shade her eyes against the +westering sun--'Isn't that Sir William coming?' + +She pointed doubtfully to a distant figure walking along the path that +skirts the western edge of the lake. Miss Martin put up her glasses. + +'Certainly. Coming no doubt to give you a lesson. But where are your +sketching things?' + +Nelly rose in a hurry. + +'I forgot about them when I came out. The telegram--' She pressed her +hands to her eyes, with a long breath. + +'I'll run back for them. Will you tell him?' + +She departed, and Hester awaited her cousin. He came slowly along the +lake, his slight lameness just visible in his gait--otherwise a splendid +figure of a man, with a bare head, bearded and curled, like a Viking in +a drawing by William Morris. He carried various artist's gear slung +about him, and an alpenstock. His thoughts were apparently busy, for he +came within a few yards of Hester Martin, before he saw her. + +'Hullo! Hester--you here? I came to get some news of Mrs. Sarratt and +her husband. Is he all right?' + +Hester repeated the telegram, and added the information that seeing him +coming, Mrs. Sarratt had gone in search of her sketching things. + +'Ah!--I thought if she'd got good news she might like to begin,' said +Farrell. 'Poor thing--she's lucky! Our casualties these last few days +have been awful, and the gain very small. Men or guns--that's our +choice just now. And it will be months before we get the guns. So +practically, there's no choice. Somebody ought to be hung!' + +He sat down frowning. But his face soon cleared, and he began to study +the point of view. + +'Nothing to be made of it but a picture post-card,' he declared. +'However I daresay she'll want to try it. They always do--the beginners. +The more ambitious and impossible the thing, the better.' + +'Why don't you _teach_ her?' said Hester, severely. + +Farrell laughed. + +'Why I only want to amuse her, poor little soul!' he said, as he put his +easel together. 'Why should she take it seriously?' + +'She's more intelligence than you think.' + +'Has she? What a pity! There are so many intelligent people in the +world, and so few pretty ones,' + +He spoke with a flippant self-confidence that annoyed his cousin. But +she knew very well that she was poorly off in the gifts that were +required to scourge him. And there already was the light form of Nelly, +on the footbridge over the river. Farrell looked up and saw her coming. + +'Extraordinary--the grace of the little thing!' he said, half to +himself, half to Hester. 'And she knows nothing about it--or seems to.' + +'Do you imagine that her husband hasn't told her?' Hester's tone was +mocking. + +Farrell looked up in wonder. 'Sarratt? of course he has--so far as he +has eyes to see it. But he has no idea how remarkable it is.' + +'What? His wife's beauty? Nonsense!' + +'How could he? It wants a trained eye,' said Farrell, quite serious. +'Hush!--here she comes.' + +Nelly came up breathlessly, laden with her own paraphernalia. Farrell at +once perceived that she was pale and hollow-eyed. But her expression was +radiant. + +'How kind of you to come!' she said, looking up at him. 'You know I've +had good news--splendid news?' + +'I do indeed. I came to ask,' he said gravely. 'He's out of it for a +bit?' + +'Yes, for three weeks!' + +'So you can take a rest from worrying?' + +She nodded brightly, but she was not yet quite mistress of her nerves, +and her face quivered. He turned away, and began to set his palette, +while she seated herself. + +Hester watched the lesson for half an hour, till it was time to go and +make ready for her munition-workers. And she watched it with increasing +pleasure, and increasing scorn of a certain recurrent uneasiness she had +not been able to get rid of. Nothing could have been better than +Farrell's manner to Ariadne. It was friendly, chivalrous, +respectful--all it should be--with a note of protection, of unspoken +sympathy, which, coming from a man nearly twenty years older than the +little lady herself, was both natural and attractive. He made an +excellent teacher besides, handling her efforts with a mixture of +criticism and praise, which presently roused Nelly's ambition, and +kindled her cheeks and eyes. Time flew and when Hester Martin rose to +leave them, Nelly cried out in protest--'It can't be five o'clock!' + +'A quarter to--just time to get home before my girls arrive!' + +'Oh, and I must go too,' said Nelly regretfully. 'I promised Bridget I +would be in for tea. But I _was_ getting on--wasn't I?' She turned to +Farrell. + +'Swimmingly. But you've only just begun. Next time the sitting must be +longer.' + +'Will you--will you come in to tea?'--she asked him shyly. 'My sister +would be very glad.' + +'Many thanks--but I am afraid I can't. I shall be motoring back to +Carton to-night. To-morrow is one of my hospital days. I told you how I +divided my week, and salved my conscience.' + +He smiled down upon her from his great height, his reddish gold hair and +beard blown by the wind, and she seemed to realise him as a great, +manly, favouring presence, who made her feel at ease. + +Hester Martin had already vanished over the bridge, and Farrell and +Nelly strolled back more leisurely towards the lodgings, he carrying her +canvas sketching bag. + +On the way she conveyed to him her own and Bridget's acceptance of the +Carton invitation. + +'If Miss Farrell won't mind our clothes--or rather our lack of them! I +did mean to have my wedding dress altered into an evening +dress--but!----' + +She lifted her hand and let it fall, in a sad significant gesture which +pleased his fastidious eye. + +'You hadn't even the time of the heart for it? I should think not!' he +said warmly. 'Who cares about dress nowadays?' + +'Your sister!' thought Nelly--but aloud she said-- + +'Well then we'll come--we'll be delighted to come. May I see the +hospital?' + +'Of course. It's like any other hospital.' + +'Is it very full now?' she asked him uneasily, her bright look clouding. + +'Yes--but it ebbs and flows. Sometimes for a day or two all our men +depart. Then there is a great rush.' + +'Are they bad cases?' + +There was an unwilling insistence in her voice, as though her mind dealt +with images it would gladly have put away, but could not. + +'A good many of them. They send them us as straight as they can from the +front. But the surgeons are wonderfully skilful. It's simply marvelous +what they can do.' + +He seemed to see a shiver pass through her slight shoulders, and he +changed the subject at once. The Carton motor should come for her and +her sister, he said, whenever they liked, the following Saturday +afternoon. The run would take about an hour. Meanwhile-- + +'Do you want any more books or magazines?' he asked her smiling, with +the look of one only eager to be told how to serve her. They had paused +in the road outside the lodgings. + +'Oh I how could we! You sent us such a bundle!' cried Nelly gratefully. +'We are always finding something new in it. It makes the evenings so +different. We will bring them back when we come.' + +'Don't hurry. And go on with the drawing. I shall expect to see it a +great deal further on next time. It's all right so far.' + +He went his way back, speedily, taking a short cut over Loughrigg to his +cottage. His thoughts, as he climbed, were very full of Mrs. Sarratt. +But they were the thoughts of an artist--of a man who had studied +beauty, and the European tradition of beauty, whether in form or +landscape, for many years; who had worked--_a contre coeur_--in a Paris +studio, and had copied Tintoret--fervently--in Venice; who had been a +collector of most things, from Tanagra figures to Delia Robbias. She +made an impression upon him in her lightness and grace, her small +proportions, her lissomness of outline, very like that of a Tanagra +figure. How had she come to spring from Manchester? What kindred had she +with the smoke and grime of a great business city? He fell into amused +speculation. Manchester has always possessed colonies of Greek +merchants. Somewhere in the past was there some strain of southern blood +which might account for her? He remembered a beautiful Greek girl at an +Oxford Commemoration, when he had last attended that function; the +daughter of a Greek financier settled in London, whose still lovely +mother had been drawn and painted interminably by the Burne Jones and +William Morris group of artists. _She_ was on a larger scale than Mrs. +Sarratt, but the colour of the flesh was the same--as though light shone +through alabaster--and the sweetness of the deep-set eyes. Moreover she +had produced much the same effect on the bystander, as of a child of +nature, a creature of impulse and passion--passion, clinging and +self-devoted, not fierce and possessive--through all the more +superficial suggestions of reticence and self-control. 'This little +creature is only at the beginning of her life'--he thought, with a kind +of pity for her very softness and exquisiteness. 'What the deuce will +she have made of it, by the end? Why should such beings grow old?' + +His interest in her led him gradually to other thoughts--partly +disagreeable, partly philosophical. He had once--and only once--found +himself involved in a serious love-affair, which, as it had left him a +bachelor, had clearly come to no good. It was with a woman much older +than himself--gifted--more or less famous--a kind of modern Corinne whom +he had met for a month in Rome in his first youth. Corinne had laid +siege to him, and he had eagerly, whole-heartedly succumbed. He saw +himself, looking back, as the typically befooled and bamboozled mortal; +for Corinne, in the end, had thrown him over for a German professor, who +admired her books and had a villa on the Janiculum. During the eighteen +years which had elapsed since their adventure, he had quite made it up +with her, and had often called at the Janiculan villa, with its +antiques, its window to the view, and the great Judas tree between it +and Rome. His sense of escape--which grew upon him--was always tempered +by a keen respect for the lady's disinterestedness, and those high +ideals which must have led her--for what else could?--to prefer the +German professor, who had so soon become decrepit, to himself. But the +result of it all had been that the period of highest susceptibility and +effervescence had passed by, leaving him still unmarried. Since then he +had had many women-friends, following harmlessly a score of 'chance +desires'! But he had never wanted to marry anybody; and the idea of +surrendering the solitude and independence of his pleasant existence had +now become distasteful to him. Renan in some late book speaks of his +life as 'cette charmante promenade a travers la realite.' Farrell could +have adopted much the same words about his own--until the war. The war +had made him think a good deal, like Sarratt; though the thoughts of a +much travelled, epicurean man of the world were naturally very +different from those of the young soldier. At least 'the surge and +thunder' of the struggle had developed in Farrell a new sensitiveness, a +new unrest, as though youth had returned upon him. The easy, drifting +days of life before the catastrophe were gone. The 'promenade' was no +longer charming. But the jagged and broken landscape through which it +was now taking him, held him often--like so many others--breathless with +strange awes, strange questionings. And all the more, because, owing to +his physical infirmity, he must be perforce a watcher, a discontented +watcher, rather than an actor, in the great scene. + + * * * * * + +That night Nelly, sitting at her open window, with starlight on the +lake, and the cluster rose sending its heavy scent into the room--wrote +to her husband. + +'My darling--it is just a little more than eight hours since I got your +telegram. Sometimes it seems like nothing--and then like _days_--days of +happiness. I was _very_ anxious. But I know I oughtn't to write about +that. You say it helps you if I keep cheerful, and always expect the +best and not the worst. Indeed, George, I do keep cheerful. Ask Miss +Martin--ask Bridget--' + +At this point two splashes fell, luckily not on the letter, but on the +blotting paper beside it, and Nelly hastily lifted her handkerchief to +dry a pair of swimming eyes. + +'But he can't see--he won't know!' she thought, apologising to herself; +yet wrestling at the same time with the sharp temptation to tell him +exactly how she had suffered, that he might comfort her. But she +repelled it. Her moral sense told her that she ought to be sustaining +and strengthening him--rather than be hanging upon him the burden of her +own fears and agonies. + +She went on bravely-- + +'Of course, after the news in the paper this morning,--and yesterday--I +was worried till I heard. I knew--at any rate I guessed--you must have +been in it all. And now you are safe, my own own!--for three whole +blessed weeks. Oh, how well I shall sleep all that time--and how much +work I shall do! But it won't be all war-work. Sir William Farrell came +over to-day, and showed me how to begin a drawing of the lake. I shall +finish it for your birthday, darling. Of course you won't want to be +bothered with it out there. I shall keep it till you come. The lake is +so beautiful to-night, George. It is warmer again, and the stars are all +out. The mountains are so blue and quiet--the water so still. But for +the owls, everything seems asleep. But they call and call--and the echo +goes round the lake. I can just see the island, and the rocks round +which the boat drifted--that last night. How good you were to me--how I +loved to sit and look at you, with the light on your dear face--and the +oars hanging--and the shining water-- + +'And then I think of where you are--and what you have been seeing in +that awful fighting. But not for long. I try to put it away. + +'George, darling!--you know what you said when you went away--what you +hoped might come--to make us both happy--and take my thoughts off the +war? But, dear, it isn't so--you mustn't hope it. I shall be dreadfully +sorry if you are disappointed. But you'll only find _me_--your own +Nelly--not changed a bit--when you come back. + +'I want to hear everything when you write--how your men did--whether you +took any prisoners, whether there was ammunition enough, or whether you +were short again? I feel every day that I ought to go and make +munitions--but somehow--I can't. We are going to Carton on Saturday. +Bridget is extremely pleased. I rather dread it. But I shall be able to +write you a long letter about it on Sunday morning, instead of going to +church. There is Rydal chapel striking twelve! My darling--my +darling!--good-night.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The following Saturday afternoon, at three o'clock, the Carton motor +duly arrived at the Rydal cottage door. It was a hot summer day, the +mountains colourless and small under their haze of heat, the woods +darkening already towards the August monotony, the streams low and +shrunken. Lakeland was at the moment when the artists who haunt her +would rather not paint her, remembering the subtleties of spring, and +looking forward to the pageantry of autumn. But for the eye that loves +her she has beauties enough at any time, and no blanching heat and dust +can spoil the lovely or delicate things that lie waiting in the shade of +her climbing oak-woods or on her bare fells, or beside her still lakes. + +Nelly took her seat in the landaulette, with Bridget beside her. Milly +and Mrs. Weston admiringly watched their departure from the doorway of +the lodgings, and they were soon speeding towards Grasmere and Dunmail +Raise. Nelly's fresh white dress, aided by the blue coat and shady hat +which George had thought so ravishing, became her well; and she was +girlishly and happily aware of it. Her spirits were high, for there in +the little handbag on her wrist lay George's last letter, received that +morning, short and hurried, written just to catch the post, on his +arrival at the rest camp, thirty miles behind the line. Heart-ache and +fear, if every now and then their black wings brushed her, and far +within, a nerve quivered, were mostly quite forgotten. Youth, the joy of +being loved, the joy of mere living, reclaimed her. + +Bridget beside her, in a dark blue cotton, with a very fashionable hat, +looked more than her thirty years, and might almost have been taken for +Nelly's mother. She sat erect, her thin straight shoulders carrying her +powerful head and determined face; and she noticed many things that +quite escaped her sister: the luxury of the motor for instance; the +details of the Farrell livery worn by the two discharged soldiers who +sat in front as chauffeur and footman; and the evident fact that while +small folk must go without servants, the rich seemed to have no +difficulty in getting as many as they wanted. + +'I wonder what this motor cost?' she said presently in a speculative +tone, as they sped past the turn to Grasmere church and began to ascend +the pass leading to Keswick. + +'Well, we know--about--don't we?' said Nelly vaguely. And she guessed a +sum, at which Bridget looked contemptuous. + +'More than _that_, my dear! However of course it doesn't matter to +them.' + +'Don't you think people look at us sometimes, as though we were doing +something wrong?' said Nelly uneasily. They had just passed two old +labourers--fine patriarchal fellows who had paused a moment to gaze at +the motor and the two ladies. 'I suppose it's because--because we look +so smart.' + +'Well, why shouldn't we?' + +'Because it's war-time I suppose,' said Nelly slowly--'and perhaps +their sons are fighting--' + +'We're not fighting!' + +'No--but--.' With a slight frown, Nelly tried to express herself. 'It +looks as if we were just living as usual, while--Oh, you know, Bridget, +what people think!--how _everybody's_ trying not to spend money on +themselves.' + +'Are they?' Bridget laughed aloud. 'Look at all the dress advertisements +in the papers. Why, yesterday, when I was having tea with those people +at Windermere, there was a man there telling lots of interesting things. +He said he knew some great merchants in the city, who had spent +thousands and thousands on furs--expensive furs--the summer before the +war. And they thought they'd all have been left on their hands, that +they'd have lost heavily. And instead of that they sold them all, and +made a real big profit!' + +Bridget turned an almost triumphant look on her sister, as though the +_coup_ described had been her own. + +'Well, it isn't right!' said Nelly, passionately. 'It isn't--it +_isn't_--Bridget! When the war's costing so much--and people are +suffering and dying--' + +'Oh, I know!' said Bridget hastily. 'You needn't preach to me my dear +child. I only wanted you to look at _facts_. You're always so incurably +sentimental!' + +'I'm not!' Nelly protested, helplessly. 'We _make_ the facts. If nobody +bought the furs, the facts would be different. George says it's wicked +to squander money, and live as if everything were just the same as it +used to be. And I agree with him!' + +'Of course you do!' laughed Bridget. '_You_ don't squander money, my +dear!' + +'Only because I haven't got it to spend, you mean?' said Nelly, +flushing. + +'No--but you should look at things sensibly. The people who are making +money are spending it--oceans of it! And the people who have money, like +the Farrells, are spending it too. Wait till you see how they live!' + +'But there's the hospital!' cried Nelly. + +Bridget shrugged her shoulders. + +'That's because they can afford to give the hospital, and have the +motor-cars too. If they had to choose between hospitals and motor-cars!' + +'Lots of people do!' + +'You think Sir William Farrell looks like doing without things?' said +Bridget, provokingly. Then she checked herself. 'Of course I like Sir +William very much. But then _I_ don't see why he shouldn't have +motor-cars or any other nice thing he wants.' + +'That's because--you don't think enough--you never think enough--about +the war!' said Nelly, insistently. + +Bridget's look darkened. + +'I would stop the war to-morrow--I would make peace to-morrow--if I +could--you know I would. It will destroy us all--ruin us all. It's +sheer, stark lunacy. There, you know what I think!' + +'I don't see what it's ever cost you, Bridget!' said Nelly, breathing +fast. + +'Oh, well, it's very easy to say that--but it isn't argument.' + +Bridget's deep-set penetrating eyes glittered as she turned them on her +sister. 'However, for goodness' sake, don't let's quarrel about it. It's +a lovely day, and we don't often have a motor like this to drive in!' + +The speaker leant back, giving herself up to the sensuous pleasure of +the perfectly hung car, and the rapid movement through the summer air. +Wythburn and Thirlmere were soon passed; leaving them just time to +notice the wrack and ruin which Manchester has made of the once lovely +shore of Thirlmere, where hideous stretches of brown mud, and the ruins +of long submerged walls and dwellings, reappear with every dry summer to +fling reproach in the face of the destroyer. + +Now they were on the high ground above Keswick; and to the west and +north rose a superb confusion of mountain-forms, peaked and rounded and +cragged, with water shining among them, and the silver cloud wreaths +looped and threaded through the valleys, leaving the blue or purple +tops suspended, high in air, unearthly and alone, to parley with the +setting sun. Not yet setting indeed--but already flooding the west with +a glory in which the further peaks had disappeared--burnt away; a +shining holocaust to the Gods of Light and Fire. + +Then a sharp descent, a run through Keswick, another and a tamer lake, a +sinking of the mountain-forms, and they were nearing the woods of +Carton. Both sisters had been silent for some time. Nelly was wrapt in +thoughts of George. Would he get leave before Christmas? Suppose he were +wounded slightly--just a wound that would send him home, and let her +nurse him?--a wound from which he would be sure to get well--not too +quickly! She could not make up her mind to wish it--to pray for it--it +seemed like tempting Providence. But how she had envied a young couple +whom she sometimes met walking on the Ambleside road!--a young private +of one of the Border regiments, with a bandaged arm, and his sweetheart. +Once--with that new free-masonry which the war has brought about, she +had stopped to speak to them. The boy had been quite ready to talk about +his wound. It had seemed nothing at first--just a fragment of +shrapnel--he had scarcely known he was hit. But abscess after abscess +had formed--a leading nerve had been injured--it might be months before +he could use it again. And meanwhile the plain but bright-faced girl +beside him was watching over him; he lodged with her parents as his own +were dead; and they were to be married soon. No chance of his going out +again! The girl's father would give him work in his garage. They had the +air of persons escaped from shipwreck and ashamed almost of their own +secret happiness, while others were still battling with and sinking in +the waves. + + * * * * * + +A flowery lodge, a long drive through green stretches of park, with a +heather fell for background--and then the motor, leaving to one side a +huge domed pile with the Union Jack floating above it, ran through a +wood, and drew up in front of Carton Cottage, a low building on the +steps of which stood Sir William Farrell. + +'Delighted to see you! Come in, and let Cicely give you some tea. +They'll see to your luggage!' + +He led in Nelly, and Bridget followed, glancing from side to side, with +an eye shrewdly eager, an eye that took in and appraised all it saw. A +cottage indeed! It had been built by Sir William's father, for his only +sister, a maiden lady, to whom he was much attached. 'Aunt Sophy' had +insisted on a house to herself, being a person of some ruggedness and +eccentricity of character and averse to any sort of dependence on other +people's ways and habits. But she had allowed her brother to build and +furnish the cottage for her as lavishly as he pleased, and during his +long widowhood she had been of much help to him in the management of +the huge household at Carton Hall, and in the bringing up of his two +children. After her death, the house had remained empty for some time, +till, six months after the outbreak of war, Farrell had handed over the +Hall to the War Office, and he and his sister had migrated to the +smaller house. + +Bridget was aware, as she followed her sister, of rooms small but +numerous opening out on many sides, of long corridors with glistening +teak floors, of windows open to a garden ablaze with roses. Sir William +led them to what seemed a buzz of voices, and opened a door. + +Cicely Farrell rose languidly from a table surrounded by laughing young +men, and advanced to meet the newcomers. Nelly found herself shaking +hands with the Captain Marsworth she had seen at Loughrigg Tarn, and +being introduced by Sir William to various young officers, some in +khaki, visitants from a neighbouring camp, and some from the Hall, in +various forms of convalescent undress, grey flannel suits, khaki tunics +with flannel 'slacks,' or full khaki, as the wearers pleased. The little +lady in white had drawn all the male eyes upon her as she came in, and +those who rapidly resumed their talk with Miss Farrell or each other, +interrupted by the entrance of the newcomers, were no less aware of her +than those who, with Farrell, devoted themselves to supply the two +sisters with tea. + +Nelly herself, extremely shy, but sustained somehow by the thought that +she must hold her own in this new world, was soon deep in conversation +with a charming youth, who owned a long, slightly lantern-jawed face and +fair hair, moved on crutches with a slung knee, and took everything +including his wound as 'funny.' + +'Where is your husband?' he asked her. 'Sir William thinks he is +somewhere near Festubert? My hat, the Lanchesters have been having a hot +time there!--funny, isn't it? But they'll be moved to an easier job +soon. They're always in luck--the Lanchesters--funny, I call it?--what? +I wouldn't worry if I were you. Your husband's got through this all +right--mightn't have another such show for ages. These things are awful +chancey--funny, isn't it? Oh, my wound?--well, it was just when I was +getting over the parados to move back to billets--that the brute got me. +Funny, wasn't it? Hullo!--here's a swell! My hat!--it's General Torr!' + +Nelly looked up bewildered to see a group of officers enter the room, +headed by a magnificent soldier, with light brown hair, handsome +features, and a broad be-ribboned chest. Miss Farrell greeted him and +his comrades with her best smiles; and Nelly observed her closely, as +she stood laughing and talking among them. Sir William's sister was in +uniform, if it could be called a uniform. She wore a nurse's cap and +apron over a pale blue dress of some soft crapey material. The cap was a +square of fine lawn, two corners of which were fastened under the chin +with a brooch consisting of one large pearl. The open throat showed a +single string of fine pearls, and diamonds sparkled in the small ears. +Edging the cap on the temples and cheeks were little curls--a la +Henrietta Maria--and the apron, also of the finest possible lawn, had a +delicately embroidered edge. The lips of the wearer had been +artificially reddened, her eyebrows and eyelids had been skilfully +pencilled, her cheeks rouged. A more extraordinary specimen of the +nursing sisterhood it would have been impossible to find. Nevertheless +the result was, beyond gainsaying, both amusing and picturesque. The lad +beside Nelly watched Miss Farrell with a broad grin. On the other hand, +a lady in a thin black dress and widow's veil, who was sitting near +Bridget, turned away after a few minutes' observation of the hostess, +and with a curling lip began to turn over a book lying on a table near +her. But whether the onlookers admired or disapproved, there could be no +question that Miss Farrell held the field. + +'I am very glad to hear that Mrs. Sarratt has good news of her husband!' +said Captain Marsworth courteously to Bridget, hardly able to make +himself heard however amid the din and laughter of the central group. He +too had been watching Cicely Farrell--but with a wholly impassive +countenance. Bridget made some indifferent answer, and then eagerly +asked who the visitors were. She was told that they were officers from a +neighbouring camp, including the general commanding the camp. Sir +William, said Captain Marsworth, had built the whole camp at his own +expense, and on his own land, without waiting for any government +contractor. + +'I suppose he is so enormously rich--he can do anything he wants!' said +Bridget, her face kindling. 'It must be grand never to think what you +spend.' + +Captain Marsworth was a trifle taken aback by the remark, as Sir William +was barely a couple of yards away. + +'Yes, I daresay it's convenient,' he said, lightly. 'And what do you +find to do with yourself at Rydal?' + +Bridget informed him briefly that she was correcting some proof-sheets +for a friend, and would then have an index to make. + +Captain Marsworth looked at her curiously. + +'May one ask what the book is?' + +'It's something new about psychology,' said Bridget, calmly. 'It's going +to be a great deal talked about. My friend's awfully clever.' + +'Ah! Doesn't she find it a little difficult to think about psychology +just now?' + +'Why should she? Somebody's got to think about psychology,' was the +sharp reply. 'You can't let everything go, because there's a war.' + +'I see! You remind me of a man I know, who's translating Dante. He's +just over military age, and there he sits in a Devonshire valley, with a +pile of books. I happen to know a particular department in a public +office that's a bit hustled for want of men, and I suggested that he +should lend a hand. He said it was his business to keep culture going!' + +'Well?' said Bridget. + +The challenging obstinacy of her look daunted him. He laughed. + +'You think it natural--and right--to take the war like that?' + +'Well, I don't see who's got a right to interfere with you if you do,' +she said, stiffly. Then, however, it occurred even to her obtuse and +self-centred perception, that she was saying something unexpected and +distasteful to a man who was clearly a great friend of the Farrells, and +therefore a member of the world she envied. So she changed the subject. + +'Does Miss Farrell ever do any real nursing?' she asked abruptly. + +Captain Marsworth's look became, in a moment, reserved and cold. 'She's +always ready to do anything for any of us!' + +Then the speaker rose. 'I see Sir William's preparing to take your +sister into the gardens. You certainly ought to see them. They're very +famous.' + + * * * * * + +The party streamed out into the paths leading through a wood, and past a +series of water-lily pools to the walled gardens. Sir William walked in +front with Nelly. + +'My brother's new craze!' said Cicely in the ear of the General beside +her, who being of heroic proportions had to stoop some way to hear the +remark. He followed the direction of her eyes. + +'What, that little woman? A vision! Is it only looks, or is there +something besides?' + +Cicely shrugged her shoulders. + +'I don't know. I haven't found out. The sister's plain, disagreeable, +stupid.' + +'She looks rather clever.' + +'Doesn't that show she's stupid? Nobody ought to look clever. Do you +admire Mrs. Sarratt?' + +'Can one help it? Or are you going also to maintain,' laughed the +general, 'that no one can be beautiful who looks it?' + +'One _could_ maintain it--easily. The best kind of beauty has always to +be discovered. What do you think, Captain Marsworth?' + +She turned--provokingly--to the soldier on her left hand. + +'About beauty?' He looked up listlessly. 'I've no idea. The day's too +hot.' + +Cicely eyed him. + +'You're tired!' she said peremptorily. 'You've been doing too much. You +ought to go and rest.' + +He smiled, and standing back he let them pass him. Turning into a side +path he disappeared towards the hospital. + +'Poor old fellow!--he still looks very delicate,' said the General. 'How +is he really getting on?' + +'The arm's improving. He's having massage and electricity. Sometimes he +seems perfectly well,' said Cicely. An oddly defiant note had crept into +the last sentence. + +'He looks down--out of spirits. Didn't he lose nearly all his friends at +Neuve Chapelle?' + +'Yes, some of his best friends.' + +'And half the battalion! He always cared enormously about his men. He +and I, you know, fought in South Africa together. Of course then he was +just a young subaltern. He's a splendid chap! I'm afraid he won't get to +the front again. But of course they'll find him something at home. He +ought to marry--get a wife to look after him. By the way, somebody told +me there was some talk about him and the daughter of the rector here. A +nice little girl. Do you know her?' + +'Miss Stewart? Yes.' + +'What do you think of her?' + +'A little nincompoop. Quite harmless!' + +The handsome hero smiled--unseen by his companion. + +Meanwhile Farrell was walking with Nelly through the stately series of +walled gardens, which his grandfather had planned and carried out, +mainly it seemed for the boredom of the grandson. + +'What do we want with all these things now?' he said, waving an +impatient hand, as he and Nelly stood at the top flight of steps looking +down upon the three gardens sloping to the south, with their fragments +of statuary, and old leaden statuettes, ranged along the central walks. +'They're all out of date. They were before the war; and the war has +given them the _coup de grace_. No more big estates--no more huge +country houses! My grandfather built and built, for the sake of +building, and I pay for his folly. After the war!--what sort of a world +shall we tumble into!' + +'I don't want these gardens destroyed!' said Nelly, looking up at him. +'No one ought to spoil them. They're far too beautiful!' + +She was beginning to speak with more freedom, to be less afraid of him. +The gap between her small provincial experience and modes of thought, +and his, was narrowing. Each was beginning to discover the inner +personality of the other. And the more Farrell explored her the more +charmed he was. She was curiously ignorant, whether of books or life. +Even the busy commercial life amid which she had been brought up, as it +seemed to him, she had observed but little. When he asked her questions +about Manchester, she was generally vague or puzzled. He saw that she +was naturally romantic; and her passion for the absent Sarratt, together +with her gnawing anxiety about him which could not be concealed, made +her, again, very touching in the eyes of a man of imagination whose +feelings were quick and soft. He walked about with her for more than an +hour, discoursing ironically on the Grecian temples, the rustic bridges +and pools and fountains, now in imitation of the older Versailles and +now of the Trianon, with which his grandfather had burdened his +descendants; so that the glorious evening, as it descended, presently +became a merry duel between him and her, she defending and admiring his +own possessions, and he attacking them. Her eyes sparkled, and a bright +red--a natural red--came back into her pale cheeks. She spoke and moved +with an evident exhilaration, as though she realised her own developing +powers, and was astonished by her own readiness of speech, and the sheer +pleasure of talk. And something, no doubt, entered in of the new scene; +its scale and magnificence, so different from anything she had yet +known; its suggestion of a tradition reaching back through many +generations, and of a series of lives relieved from all vulgar +necessities, playing as they pleased with art and money, with water and +wood. + +At the same time she was never merely dazzled; and never, for one +moment, covetous or envious. He was struck with her simple dignity and +independence; and he perfectly understood that a being so profoundly in +love, and so overshadowed by a great fear, could only lend, so to speak, +her outer mind to Carton or the persons in it. He gathered roses for +her, and did his utmost to please her. But she seemed to him all the +time like a little hovering elf--smiling and gay--but quite intangible. + + * * * * * + +Dinner in the 'cottage' was short, but in Bridget's eyes perfect. +Personally, she was not enjoying herself very much, for she had made up +her mind that she did not get on with military men, and that it was +their fault, not hers; so that she sat often silent, a fact however +unnoticed in the general clatter of the table. She took it quite calmly, +and was more than compensated for the lack of conversation by the whole +spectacle of the Farrell wealth; the flowers, the silver, the costly +accessories of all kinds, which even in war-time, and in a 'cottage,' +seemed to be indispensable. It would have been more amusing, no doubt, +if it had been the big house and not the cottage. Sometimes through the +open windows and the trees, she caught sight of the great lighted pile a +little way off, and found herself dreaming of what it would be to live +there, and to command all that these people commanded. She saw herself +sweeping through the magnificent rooms, giving orders, inviting guests, +entertaining royalty, driving about the country in splendid motors. It +was a waking dream, and though she never uttered a word, the animation +of her thoughts infused a similar animation into her aspect, and made +her almost unconscious of her neighbours. Captain Marsworth made several +attempts to win her attention before she heard him. + +'Yes.' + +She turned at last an absent glance upon him. + +'Miss Farrell talks of our all going over to the hospital after dinner. +She and Sir William often spend the evening there,' said Captain +Marsworth, quite aware from Miss Farrell's frequent glances in his +direction that he was not in her opinion doing his duty with Miss +Cookson. + +'Will it take us long?' said Bridget, the vivacity of her look dying +out. + +'As long as you please to stay!' laughed the Captain, drily. + + * * * * * + +That passage after dinner through the convalescent wards of the finely +equipped hospital was to Nelly Sarratt an almost intolerable experience. +She went bravely through it, leaving, wherever she talked to a +convalescent, an impression of shy sweetness behind her, which made a +good many eyes follow her as Farrell led her through the rooms. But she +was thankful when it was over; and when, at last, she was alone in her +room for the night, she flew--for consolation--to the drawer in which +she had locked her writing-desk, and the letters she had received that +morning. The post had just arrived as they were leaving Rydal, and she +had hastily torn open a letter from George, and thrust the others into a +large empty envelope. And now she discovered among them to her delight a +second letter from George, unopened. What unexpected joy! + +It too was dated--'Somewhere in France'--and had been written two days +after the letter she had opened in the morning. + +'My darling--we're having a real jolly time here--in an old village, +far behind the line, and it is said we shall be here for three whole +weeks. Well, some of us really wanted it, for the battalion has been in +some very hot fighting lately, and has had a nasty bit of the line to +look after for a long time--with nothing very much to show for it. My +platoon has lost some of its best men, and I've been pretty badly hit, +as some of them were real chums of mine--the bravest and dearest +fellows. And I don't know why, but for the first time, I've been feeling +rather jumpy and run down. So I went to a doctor, and he told me I'd +better go off duty for a fortnight. But just then, luckily, the whole +battalion was ordered, as I told you a week ago, into what's called +"divisional rest," so here we are--for three weeks! Quite good +billets--an old French farm--with two good barns and lots of straw for +the men, and an actual bedroom for me--and a real bed--_with sheets!_ +Think of that! I am as comfortable as possible. Just at first I'm going +to stay in bed for a couple of days to please the doctor--but then I +shall be all right, and shall probably take a course of gymnastics +they're starting here--odd, isn't it?--like putting us to school +again!--so that I may be quite fit before going back to the front. + +'One might almost forget the war here, if it weren't for the rumble of +the guns which hardly ever ceases. They are about thirty-five miles +away. The whole country is quite peaceful, and the crops coming on +splendidly. The farm produces delicious brown eggs--and you should +see--and _taste_--the omelets the farmer's wife makes! Coffee +too--first-rate! How these French women work! Our men are always +helping them, and the children hang round our Tommies like flies. + +'These two days in bed are a godsend, for I can read all your letters +through again. There they are--spread out on my sheet! By Jove, little +woman, you've treated me jolly well! And now I can pay you back a +little. But perhaps you won't mind, dearest, if I don't write anything +very long, for I expect I ought to take it easy--for a bit--I can't +think why I should have felt so slack. I never knew anything about +nerves before. But the doctor has been very nice and understanding--a +real, decent fellow. He declares I shall be as fit as a fiddle, long +before the three weeks are done. + +'My bedroom door is open, and some jolly yellow chickens are wandering +in and out. And sometimes the farmer's youngest--a nice little chap of +eight--comes to look at me. I teach him English--or I try--but when I +say the English words, he just doubles up with laughing and runs away. +Nelly, my precious--if I shut my eyes--I can fancy your little head +there--just inside the door--and your eyes looking at me!...May the Lord +give us good luck--and may we all be home by Christmas!--Mind you finish +that sketch!' + +She put the letter down with a rather tremulous hand. It had depressed +her, and made her anxious. She read in it that George had been through +horrible things--and had suffered. + +Then all that she had seen in the hospital came back upon her, and +rising restlessly she threw herself, without undressing, face downwards +on her bed. That officer, blanched to the colour of white wax, who had +lost a leg after frightful haemorrhage; that other, the merest boy, +whose right eye had been excised--she could not get them out of her +mind, nor the stories they had told her of the actions in which they had +been wounded. + +'George--George!' It was a moan of misery, stifled in the darkness. + +Then, suddenly, she remembered she had not said good-night to Bridget. +She had forgotten Bridget. She had been unkind. She got up, and sped +along the passage to Bridget's room. + +'Bridget!' She just opened the door. 'May I come in?' + +'Come in.' + +Bridget was already in bed. In her hands was a cup of steaming chocolate +which a maid had just brought her, and she was lingering over it with a +face of content. + +Nelly opened her eyes in astonishment. + +'Did you ask for it, Bridget?' + +'I did--or rather the housemaid asked what I would have. She +said--"ladies have just what they like in their rooms." So I asked for +chocolate.' + +Nelly sat down on the bed. + +'Is it good?' + +'Excellent,' said Bridget calmly. 'Whatever did you expect?' + +'We seem to have been eating ever since we came!' said Nelly +frowning,--'and they call it economising!' + +Bridget threw back her head with a quiet laugh. + +'Didn't I tell you so?' + +'I wondered how you got on at dinner?' said Nelly hesitating. 'Captain +Marsworth didn't seem to be taking much trouble?' + +'It didn't matter to me,' said Bridget. 'That kind of man always behaves +like that,' + +Nelly flushed. + +'You mean soldiers behave like that?' + +'Well, I don't like soldiers--brothers-in-law excepted, of course.' And +Bridget gave her short, rather harsh laugh. + +Nelly got up. + +'Well, I shall be ready to go as early as you like on Monday, Bridget. +It was awfully good of you to pack all my things so nicely!' + +'Don't I always?' Bridget laughed. + +'You do--you do indeed. Good-night.' + +She touched Bridget's cheek with her lips and stole away. + +Bridget was left to think. There was a dim light in the room showing the +fine inlaid furniture, the flowery paper, the chintz-covered arm-chairs +and sofa, and, through an open door, part of the tiled wall of the +bathroom. + +Miss Cookson had never slept in such a room before, and every item in +it pleased a starved sense in her. Poverty was _hateful_! Could one +never escape it? + +Then she closed her eyes, and seemed to be watching Sir William and +Nelly in the gardens, his protecting eager air--her face looking up. Of +_course_ she might have married him--with the greatest ease!--if only +George Sarratt had not been in the way. + +But supposing-- + +All the talk that evening had been of a new 'push'--a new and steady +offensive, as soon as the shell supply was better. George would be in +that 'push.' Nobody expected it for another month. By that time he would +be back at the front. She lay and thought, her eyes closed, her harsh +face growing a little white and pinched under the electric lamp beside +her. Potentially, her thoughts were murderous. The _wish_ that George +might not return formed itself clearly, for the first time, in her mind. +Dreams followed, as to consequences both for Nelly and herself, +supposing he did not return. And in the midst of them she fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +August came, the second August of the war. The heart of England was sad +and sick, torn by the losses at Gallipoli, by the great disaster of the +Russian retreat, by the shortage of munitions, by the endless small +fighting on the British front, which eat away the young life of our +race, week by week, and brought us no further. But the spirit of the +nation was rising--and its grim task was becoming nakedly visible at +last. _Guns--men!_ Nothing else to say--nothing else to do. + +George Sarratt's battalion returned to the fighting line somewhere about +the middle of August. 'But we are only marking time,' he wrote to his +wife. 'Nothing doing here, though the casualties go on every day. +However we all know in our bones there will be plenty to do soon. As for +me I am--more or less--all right again.' + +Indeed, as September wore on, expectation quickened on both sides of the +Channel. Nelly went in fear of she knew not what. The newspapers said +little, but through Carton and the Farrells, she heard a great deal of +military gossip. The shell supply was improving--the new Ministry of +Munitions beginning to tell--a great blow was impending. + +Weeks of rain and storm died down into an autumnal gentleness. The +bracken was turning on the hills, the woods beginning to dress for the +pageant of October. The sketching lessons which the usual August deluge +had interrupted were to begin again, as soon as Farrell came home. He +had been in France for a fortnight, at Etaples, and in Paris, studying +new methods and appliances for the benefit of the hospital. But whether +he was at home or no, the benefactions of Carton never ceased. Almost +every other day a motor from the Hall drove up laden with fruit and +flowers, with books and magazines. + +The fourth week of September opened. The rumours of coming events crept +more heavily and insistently than ever through a sudden spell of heat +that hung over the Lakes. Nelly Sarratt slept little, and wrote every +day to her George, letters of which long sections were often destroyed +when written, condemned for lack of cheerfulness. + +She was much touched by Farrell's constant kindness, and grateful for +it; especially because it seemed to keep Bridget in a good temper. She +was grateful too for the visitors whom a hint from him would send on +fine afternoons to call on the ladies at Rydal--convalescent officers, +to whom the drive from Carton, and tea with 'the pretty Mrs. Sarratt' +were an attraction, while Nelly would hang breathless on their gossip of +the war, until suddenly, perhaps, she would turn white and silent, lying +back in her garden chair with the look which the men talking to +her--brave, kind-hearted fellows--soon learnt to understand. Marsworth +came occasionally, and Nelly grew to like him sincerely, and to be +vaguely sorry for him, she hardly knew why. Cicely Farrell apparently +forgot them entirely. And in August and the first part of September she +too, according to Captain Marsworth's information, had been away, paying +visits. + +On the morning of September 26th, the Manchester papers which reached +the cottage with the post contained columns of telegrams describing the +British attack at Loos, and the French 'push' in Champagne. Among the +letters was a short word from Sarratt, dated the 24th. 'We shall +probably be in action to-morrow, dearest. I will wire as soon as I can, +but you must not be anxious if there is delay. As far as I can judge it +will be a big thing. You may be sure I shall take all the precautions +possible. God bless you, darling. Your letters are _everything_.' + +Nelly read the letter and the newspaper, her hands trembling as she held +it. At breakfast, Bridget eyed her uncomfortably. + +'He'll be all right!' she said with harsh decision. 'Don't fret.' + +The day passed, with heavy heat mists over the Lake, the fells and the +woods blotted out. On pretence of sketching, Nelly spent the hours on +the side of Loughrigg, trying sometimes to draw or sew, but for the most +part, lying with shut eyes, hidden among the bracken. Her faculty for +dreaming awake--for a kind of visualisation sharper than most people +possess--had been much developed since George's departure. It partly +tormented, partly soothed her. + +Night came without news. 'I _can't_ hear till to-morrow night,' she +thought, and lay still all night patient and sleepless, her little hands +crossed on her breast. The window was wide open and she could see the +stars peering over Loughrigg. + +Next morning, fresh columns in the newspaper. The action was still going +on. She must wait. And somehow it was easier to wait this second day; +she felt more cheerful. Was there some secret voice telling her that if +he were dead, she would have heard? + +After lunch she set out to take some of the Carton flowers to the +farmer's wife living in a fold of the fell, who had lost her only son in +the July fighting. Hester Martin had guided her there one day, and some +fellow-feeling had established itself rapidly between Nelly, and the +sad, dignified woman, whose duties went on as usual while all that gave +them zest had departed. + +The distance was short, and she left exact word where she could be +found. As she climbed the narrow lane leading to the farm, she presently +heard a motor approaching. The walls enclosing the lane left barely room +to pass. She could only scramble hurriedly up a rock which had been +built into the wall, and hold on to a young tree growing from it. The +motor which was large and luxurious passed slowly, and in the car she +saw two young men, one pale and sickly-looking, wrapped in a great-coat +though the day was stuffily warm: the other, the driver, a tall and +stalwart fellow, who threw Nelly a cold, unfriendly look as they went +by. Who could they be? The road only led to the farm, and when Nelly had +last visited Mrs. Grayson, a week before, she and her old husband and a +granddaughter of fourteen had been its only inmates. + +Mrs. Grayson received her with a smile. + +'Aye, aye, Mrs. Sarratt, coom in. Yo're welcome.' + +But as Nelly entered the flagged kitchen, with its joints of bacon and +its bunches of dried herbs, hanging from the low beamed ceiling, its +wide hob grate, its dresser, table and chairs of old Westmorland oak, +every article in it shining with elbow-grease,--she saw that Mrs. +Grayson looked particularly tired and pale. + +'Yo mun ha' passed them in t' lane?' said the farmer's wife wearily, +when the flowers had been admired and put in water, and Nelly had been +established in the farmer's own chair by the fire, while his wife +insisted on getting an early cup of tea. + +'Who were they, Mrs. Grayson?' + +'Well, they're nobbut a queer soart, Mrs. Sarratt--and I'd be glad to +see t' back on 'em. They're "conscientious objectors"--that's what they +are--an my husband coom across them in Kendal toother day. He'd +finished wi t' market, and he strolled into the room at the Town Hall, +where the men were coomin' in--yo know--to sign on for the war. An' he +got talkin' wi' these two lads, who were lookin' on as he was. And they +said they was "conscientious objectors"--and wouldn't fight not for +nothing nor nobody. But they wouldn't mind doing their bit in other +ways, they said. So John he upped and said--would they coom and help him +with his second crop o' hay--you know we've lost nearly all our men, +Mrs. Sarratt--and they said they would--and that very evening he brought +'em along. And who do you think they are?' + +Nelly could not guess; and Mrs. Grayson explained that the two young men +were the wealthy sons of a wealthy Liverpool tradesman and were starting +a branch of their father's business in Kendal. They had each of them a +motor, and apparently unlimited money. They had just begun to be useful +in the hay-making--'But they wouldn't _touch_ the stock--they wouldn't +kill anything--not a rat! They wouldn't even shoo the birds from the +oats! And last night one of them was took ill--and I must go and sit up +with him, while his brother fetched the big car from Kendal to take him +home. And there was he, groaning,--nobbut a bit of _colic_, Mrs. +Sarratt, that anybody might have!--and there I sat--thinking of our lads +in the trenches--thinking of _my boy_--that never grumbled at +anything--and would ha' been just ashamed to make such a fuss for such a +little. And this afternoon the brother's taken him away to be +molly-coddled at home. And, of course, they've left us, just when they +might ha' been o' soom real service. There's three fields still liggin +oot in t' wet--and nobody to lend a hand wi' them. But I doan't want +them back! I doan't hold wi' foak like that. I doan't want to see a mon +like that settin' where my boy used to set, when he came home. It goes +agin me. I can't soomhow put up wi' it.' + +And as she sat there opposite Nelly, her gnarled and work-stained hands +resting on her knees, the tears suddenly ran over her cheeks. But she +quickly apologised for herself. 'The truth is I am run doon, Mrs. +Sarratt. I've done nothing but _cook_ and _cook_--since these young men +coom along. They wouldn't eat noa flesh--soa I must always be cookin' +summat--vegetables--or fish--or sweet things. I'm fair tired oot!' + +Nelly exclaimed indignantly. + +'Was it their _religion_ made them behave like that?' + +'Religion!' Mrs. Grayson laughed. 'Well, they was only the yan Sunday +here--but they took no account o't, whativer. They went motorin' all +day; an niver set foot in church or chapel. They belong to soom Society +or other--I couldna tell what. But we'll not talk o' them ony more, Mrs. +Sarratt, if yo please. I'm just thankful they're gone ... An have ye +heard this day of Mr. Sarratt?' + +The gentle ageing face bent forward tenderly. Nelly lifted her own +dark-rimmed eyes to it Her mouth quivered. + +'No, not yet, Mrs. Grayson. But I shall soon. You'll have seen about +this fighting in the newspapers? There's been a great battle--I think +he'll have been in it. I shall hear to-night. I shall be sure to hear +to-night.' + +'The Lord protect him!' said Mrs. Grayson softly. They both sat silent, +looking into the fire. Through the open door, the hens could be heard +pecking and clucking in the yard, and the rushing of a beck swollen by +the rain, on the fell-side. Presently the farmer's wife looked up-- + +'It's devil's work, is war!' she said, her eyes blazing. Nelly held out +her hand and Mrs. Grayson put hers into it. The two women looked at each +other,--the one who had lost, and the other who feared to lose. + +'Yes, it's awful,' said Nelly, in a low voice. 'They want us to be +brave--but--' + +Mrs. Grayson shook her head again. + +'We can do it when they're settin' there--afore us,' she said, 'but not +when we're by our lone.' + +Nelly nodded. + +'It's the nights that are worst--' she murmured, under her +breath--'because it's then they're fighting--when we're in +bed--sleeping.' + +'My boy was killed between one and two in the morning '--whispered Mrs. +Grayson. 'I heard from one of his friends this morning. He says it was +a lovely night, and the daylight just comin' up. I think of it when I'm +layin' awake and hearing the birds beginning.' + +There was silence again, till Mrs. Grayson said, suddenly, with a +strange passion:-- + +'But I'd rather be Jim's mother, and be settin' here without him, than +I'd be the mother o'yan of them young fellows as is just gone!' + +'Yes,' said Nelly slowly--'yes. If we think too much about keeping them +safe--just for ourselves--If; they despise--they _would_ despise us. +And if anyone hangs back, we despise them. It' a horrible puzzle.' + +'We can pray for them,' said Mrs. Grayson simply. 'God can keep them +safe if it's His will.' + +'Yes '--said Nelly again. But her tone was flat and hesitating. Her +ever-present fear was very little comforted by prayer. But she found +comfort in Mrs. Grayson. She liked to stay on in the old kitchen, +watching Mrs. Grayson's household ways, making friends with the stolid +tabby cat, or listening to stories of Jim as a child. Sometimes she +would read parts of George's letters to this new friend. Bridget never +cared to hear them; and she was more completely at ease with the +farmer's wife even than with Hester Martin. + +But she could not linger this afternoon. Her news might come any time. +And Sir William had telephoned that morning to say that he and his +sister would call on their way from Windermere, and would ask for a cup +of tea. Marsworth would probably meet them at Rydal. + +As she descended the lane, she scolded herself for ingratitude. She was +glad the Farrells were coming, because they would bring newspapers, and +perhaps information besides, of the kind that does not get into +newspapers. But otherwise--why had she so little pleasure now in the +prospect of a visit from Sir William Farrell? He had never forced +himself upon them. Neither his visits nor his lessons had been +oppressively frequent, while the kindnesses which he had showered upon +them, from a distance, had been unceasing. She could hardly have +explained her disinclination. Was it that his company had grown so +stimulating and interesting to her, that it made her think too much of +other things than the war?--and so it seemed to separate her from +George? Her own quiet occupations--the needlework and knitting that she +did for a neighbouring war workroom, the gathering and drying of the +sphagnum moss, the visiting of a few convalescent soldiers, a daily +portion of Wordsworth, and some books about him--these things were +within her compass George knew all about them, for she chronicled them +in her letters day by day. She had a happy peaceful sense of communion +with him while she was busy with them. But Farrell's restless mind and +wide culture at once tired and fascinated her. He would often bring a +volume of Shelley, or Pater, or Hardy, or some quite modern poet, in his +pocket, and propose to read to her and Bridget, when the sketching was +done. And as he read, he would digress into talk, the careless audacity +of which would sometimes distress or repel, and sometimes absorb her; +till suddenly, perhaps, she realised how far she was wandering from that +common ground where she and George had moved together, and would try and +find her way back to it. She was always learning some new thing; and she +hated to learn, unless George changed and learnt with her. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Captain Marsworth was walking along the road from Grasmere to +Rydal with a rather listless step. As a soldier he was by no means +satisfied with the news of the week. We ought to have been in Lille and +weren't. It seemed to him that was about what the Loos action came to; +and his spirits were low. In addition he was in one of those fits of +depression which attack an able man who has temporarily come to a +stand-still in life, when his physical state is not buoyant enough to +enable him to fight them off. He was beginning plainly to see that his +own part in the war was done. His shattered arm, together with the +neuralgic condition which had followed on the wound, were not going to +mend sufficiently within any reasonable time to let him return to the +fighting line, where, at the moment of his wound, he was doing +divisional staff work, and was in the way of early promotion. He was a +man of clear and vigorous mind, inclined always to take a pessimistic +view of himself and his surroundings, and very critical also of persons +in authority; a scientific soldier, besides, indulging a strong natural +contempt for the politicians and all their crew, only surpassed by a +similar scorn of newspapers and the press. He had never been popular as +a subaltern, but since he had conquered his place among the 'brains' of +the army, his fame had spread, and it was freely prophesied that his +rise would be rapid. So that his growing conviction that his active +military career was over had been the recent cause in him of much +bitterness of soul. It was a bitter realisation, and a recent one. He +had been wounded at Neuve Chapelle in March, and up to July he had been +confident of complete and rapid recovery. + +Well, there was of course some compensation. A post in the War +Office--in the Intelligence Department--would, he understood, be offered +him; and by October he meant to be at work. Meanwhile an old school and +college friendship between himself and 'Bill Farrell,' together with the +special facilities at Carton for the treatment of neuralgia after +wounds, had made him an inmate for several months of the special wing +devoted to such cases in the splendid hospital; though lately by way of +a change of surroundings, he had been lodging with the old Rector of the +village of Carton, whose house was kept--and well kept--by a +sweet-looking and practical granddaughter, herself an orphan. + +Marsworth had connections in high quarters, and possessed some +considerable means. He had been a frequenter of the Farrells since the +days when the old aunt was still in command, and Cicely was a young +thing going to her first dances. He and she had sparred and quarrelled +as boy and girl. Now that, after a long interval, they had again been +thrown into close contact, they sparred and quarrelled still. He was a +man of high and rather stern ideals, which had perhaps been +intensified--made a little grimmer and fiercer than before--by the +strain of the war; and the selfish frivolity of certain persons and +classes in face of the national ordeal was not the least atoned for in +his eyes by the heroism of others. The endless dress advertisements in +the daily papers affected him as they might have affected the prophet +Ezekiel, had the daughters of Judah added the purchase of fur coats, +priced from twenty guineas to two hundred to their other enormities. He +had always in his mind the agonies of the war, the sights of the +trenches, the holocaust of young life, the drain on the national +resources, the burden on the national future. So that the Farrell +motor-cars and men servants, the costly simplicity of the 'cottage,' +Cicely's extravagance in dress, her absurd and expensive uniform, her +make-up and her jewels, were so many daily provocations to a man thus +sombrely possessed. + +And yet--he had not been able so far to tear himself away from Carton! +And he knew many things about Cicely Farrell that Nelly Sarratt had not +discovered; things that alternately softened and enraged him; things +that kept him now, as for some years past, provokingly, irrationally +interested in her. He had once proposed to her, and she had refused him. +That was known to a good many people. But what their relations were now +was a mystery to the friends on both sides. + +Whatever they were, however, on this September afternoon Marsworth was +coming rapidly to the conclusion that he had better put an end to them. +His latent feelings of resentment and irritation had been much sharpened +of late by certain passages of arms between himself and Cicely--since +she returned from her visits--with regard to that perfectly gentle and +inoffensive little maiden, Miss Daisy Stewart, the Rector's +granddaughter. Miss Farrell had several times been unpardonably rude to +the poor child in his presence, and, as it seemed to him, with the +express object of showing him how little she cared to keep on friendly +terms with him. + +Nevertheless--he found himself puzzling over certain other incidents in +his recent ken, of a different character. The hospital at Carton was +mainly for privates, with a certain amount of accommodation for +officers. He had done his best during the summer to be useful to some +poor fellows, especially of his own regiment, on the Tommies' side. And +he had lately come across some perplexing signs of a special +thoughtfulness on Miss Farrell's part for these particular men. He had +discovered also that she had taken pains to keep these small kindnesses +of hers from his knowledge. + +'I wasn't to tell you, sir,'--said the boy who had lost an eye--'not +whatever. But when you come along with them things'--a set of draughts +and a book--'why it do seem as though I be gettin' more than my share!' + +Well, she had always been incomprehensible--and he was weary of the +attempt to read her. But he wanted a home--he wanted to marry. He began +to think again--in leisurely fashion--of the Rector's granddaughter. + +Was that Mrs. Sarratt descending the side-lane? The sight of her +recalled his thoughts instantly to the war, and to a letter he had +received that morning from a brother officer just arrived in London on +medical leave--the letter of a 'grouser' if ever there was one. + +'They say that this week is to see another big push--the French probably +in Champagne, and we south of Bethune. I know nothing first-hand, but I +do know that it can only end in a few kilometres of ground, huge +casualties,--and, as you were! _We are not ready_--we can't be ready for +months. On the other hand we must keep moving--if only to kill a few +Germans, and keep our own people at home in heart. I passed some of the +Lanchesters on my way down--going up, as fresh as paint after three +weeks' rest--what's left of them. They're sure to be in it.' + +The little figure in the mauve cotton had paused at the entrance to the +lane, perceiving him. + +What about Sarratt? Had she heard? He hurried on to meet her, and put +his question. + +'There can't be any telegram yet,' she said, her pale cheeks flushing. +'But it will come to-night. Shall we go back quickly?' + +They walked on rapidly. He soon found she did not want to talk of the +news, and he was driven back on the weather. + +'What a blessing to see the sun again I this west country damp +demoralises me.' + +'I think I like it!' + +He laughed. + +'Do you only "say that to annoy "?' + +'No, I _do_ like it! I like to see the rain shutting out everything, so +that one can't make any plans--or go anywhere.' She smiled, but he was +well aware of the fever in her look. He had not seen it there since the +weeks immediately following Sarratt's departure. His heart warmed to the +frail creature, tremulous as a leaf in the wind, yet making a show of +courage. He had often asked himself whether he would wish to be loved as +Mrs. Sarratt evidently loved her husband; whether he could possibly meet +such a claim upon his own sensibility. But to-day he thought he could +meet it; to-day he thought it would be agreeable. + +Nelly had not told Marsworth however that one reason for which she +liked the rain was that it had temporarily put an end to the sketching +lessons. Nor could she have added that this new distaste in her, as +compared with the happy stir of fresh or quickened perception, which had +been the result of his early teaching, was connected, not only with Sir +William--but with Bridget--her sister Bridget. + +But the truth was that something in Bridget's manner, very soon after +the Carton visit, had begun to perplex and worry the younger sister. Why +was Bridget always insisting on the lessons?--always ready to scold +Nelly if one was missed--and always practising airs and graces with Sir +William that she wasted on no one else? Why was she so frequently away +on the days when Sir William was expected? Nelly had only just begun to +notice it, and to fall back instinctively on Miss Martin's company +whenever it could be had. She hated her own vague annoyance with +Bridget's behaviour, just because she could not pour herself out to +George about it. It was really too silly and stupid to talk about. She +supposed--she dreaded--that Bridget might be going to ask Sir William +some favour; that she meant to make use of his kindness to her sister in +order to work upon him. How horrible that would be!--how it would spoil +everything! Nelly began sometimes to dream of moving, of going to +Borrowdale, or to the coast at Scascale. And then, partly her natural +indolence, and partly her clinging to every rock and field in this +beautiful place where she had been so happy, intervened; and she let +things slide. + +Yet when Sir William and Cicely arrived, to find Bridget making tea, and +Nelly listening with a little frown of effort, while Marsworth, pencil +in hand, was drawing diagrams _a la Belloc_, to explain to her the +Russian retreat from Galicia, how impossible not to feel cheered by +Farrell's talk and company! The great _bon enfant_, towering in the +little room, and positively lighting it up by the red-gold of his-hair +and beard, so easily entertained, so overflowing with kind intentions, +so fastidious intellectually, and so indulgent morally:--as soon as he +appeared he filled the scene. + +'No fresh news, dear Mrs. Sarratt, nothing whatever,' he said at once, +meeting her hungry eyes. 'And you?' + +She shook her head. + +'Don't worry. You'll get it soon. I've sent the motor back to Windermere +for the evening papers.' + +Meanwhile Marsworth found himself reduced to watching Cicely, and +presently he found himself more angry and disgusted than he had ever yet +been. How could she? How dared she? On this day of all days, to be +snobbishly playing the great lady in Mrs. Sarratt's small sitting-room! +Whenever that was Cicely's mood she lisped; and as often as Marsworth, +who was sitting far away from her, talking to Bridget Cookson, caught +her voice, it seemed to him that she was lisping--affectedly--monstrously. +She was describing for instance a certain ducal household in which she +had just been spending the week-end, and Marsworth heard her say-- + +'Well at last, poor Evelyn' ('poor Evelyn' seemed to be a youthful +Duchess, conducting a war economy campaign through the villages of her +husband's estate), 'began to get threatening letters. She found out +afterwards they came from a nurse-maid she had sent away. "Madam, don't +you talk to us, but look at 'ome! examine your own nursewy, Madam, and +hold your tongue!" She did examine, and I found her cwying. "Oh, +Cicely, isn't it awful, I've just discovered that Nurse has been +spending _seven pounds a week_ on Baby's wibbons!" So she's given up war +economy!' + +'Why not the "wibbons?"' said Hester Martin, who had just come in and +heard the tale. + +'Because nobody gives up what they weally want to have,' said Cicely +promptly, with a more affected voice and accent than before. + +Bridget pricked up her ears and nodded triumphantly towards Nelly. + +'Don't talk nonsense, Cicely,' said Farrell. 'Why, the Duchess has +planted the whole rose-garden with potatoes, and sold all her Pekinese.' + +'Only because she was tired of the Pekinese, and has so many flowers she +doesn't know what to do with them! On the other hand the _Duke_ wants +parlour-maids; and whenever he says so, Evelyn draws all the blinds +down and goes to bed. And that annoys him so much that he gives in! +Don't you talk, Willy. The Duchess always gets wound you!' + +'I don't care twopence about her,' said Farrell, rather savagely. 'What +does she matter?' Then he moved towards Nelly, whose absent look and +drooping attitude he had been observing for some minutes. + +'Shan't we go down to the Lake, Mrs. Sarratt? It seems really a fine +evening at last, and there won't be so many more. Let me carry some +shawls. Marsworth, lend a hand.' + +Soon they were all scattered along the edge of the Lake. Hester Martin +had relieved Marsworth of Bridget; Farrell had found a dry rock, and +spread a shawl upon it for Nelly's benefit. Marsworth and Cicely had no +choice but to pair; and she, with a grey hat and plume half a yard high, +preposterously short skirts, and high-heeled boots buttoned to the knee, +condescended to stroll beside him, watching his grave embarrassed look +with an air of detachment as dramatically complete as she could make it. + + * * * * * + +'You look awfully tired!' said Farrell to his companion, eyeing her with +most sincere concern. 'I wonder what you've been doing to yourself.' + +'I'm all right,' she said with emphasis. 'Indeed I'm all right. You said +you'd sent for the papers?' + +'The motor will wait for them at Windermere. But I don't think there'll +be much more to hear. I'm afraid we've shot our bolt.' + +She clasped her hands listlessly on her knee, and said nothing. + +'Are you quite sure Sarratt has been in it?' he asked her. + +'Oh, yes, I'm sure.' + +There was a dull conviction in her voice. She began to pluck at the +grass beside her, while her dark contracted eyes swept the Lake in front +of her--seeing nothing. + +'Good God!'--thought Farrell--'Are they all--all the women--suffering +like this?' + +'You'll get a telegram from him to-morrow, I'm certain you will!' he +said, with eager kindness. 'Try and look forward to it. You know the +good chances are five to one.' + +'Not for a lieutenant,' she said, under her breath. 'They have to lead +their men. They can't think of their own lives.' + +There was silence a little. Then Farrell said--floundering, 'He'd want +you to bear up!' + +'I am bearing up!' she said quickly, a little resentfully. + +'Yes, indeed you are!' He touched her arm a moment caressingly, as +though in apology. It was natural to his emotional temperament to +express itself so--through physical gesture. But Nelly disliked the +touch. + +'I only meant'--Farrell continued, anxiously--'that he would beg you +not to anticipate trouble--not to go to meet it.' + +She summoned smiles, altering her position a little, and drawing a wrap +round her. The delicate arm was no longer within his reach. + +And restlessly she began to talk of other things--the conscientious +objectors of the morning--Zeppelins--a recruiting meeting at Ambleside. +Farrell had the impression of a wounded creature that could not bear to +be touched; and it was something new to his prevailing sense of power in +life, to be made to realise that he could do nothing. His sympathy +seemed to alienate her; and he felt much distressed and rebuffed. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile as the clouds cleared away from the September afternoon, +Marsworth and Cicely were strolling along the Lake, and sparring as +usual. + +He had communicated to her his intention of leaving Carton within a week +or so, and trying some fresh treatment in London. + +'You're tired of us?' she enquired, her head very much in air. + +'Not at all. But I think I might do a bit of work.' + +'The doctors don't think so.' + +'Ah, well--when a man's got to my stage, he must make experiments on his +own. It won't be France--I know that. But there's lots else.' + +'You'll break down in a week!' she said with energy. 'I had a talk +about you with Seaton yesterday.' + +He looked at her with amusement. For the moment, she was no longer +Cicely Farrell, extravagantly dressed, but the shrewd hospital worker, +who although she would accept no responsibility that fettered her goings +and comings beyond a certain point, was yet, as he well knew, +invaluable, as a force in the background, to both the nursing and +medical staff of Carton. + +'Well, what did Seaton say?' + +'That you would have another bad relapse, if you attempted yet to go to +work.' + +'I shall risk it.' + +'That's so like you. You never take anyone's advice.' + +'On the contrary, I am the meekest and most docile of men.' She shrugged +her shoulders. + +'You were docile, I suppose, when Seaton begged you not to go off to the +Rectory, and give yourself all that extra walking backwards and forwards +to the hospital every day?' + +'I wanted a change of scene. I like the old Rector--I even like family +prayers.' + +'I am sure everything--and _everybody_--is perfect at the Rectory!' + +'No--not perfect--but peaceable.' + +He looked at her smiling. His grey eyes, under their strong black brows, +challenged her. She perceived in them a whole swarm of unspoken +charges. Her own colour rose. + +'So peace is what you want?' + +'Peace--and a little sympathy.' + +'And we give you neither?' + +He hesitated. + +'Willy never fails one.' + +'So it's my crimes that are driving you away? It's all to be laid on my +shoulders?' + +He laughed--uncertainly. + +'Don't you believe me when I say I want to do some work?' + +'Not much. So I have offended you?' + +His look changed, became grave--touched with compunction. + +'Miss Farrell, I oughtn't to have been talking like this. You and Willy +have been awfully good to me.' + +'And then you call me "Miss Farrell"!' she cried, passionately--'when +you know very well that you've called me Cicely for years.' + +'Hush!' said Marsworth suddenly, 'what was that?' + +He turned back towards Rydal. On the shore path, midway between them and +the little bay at the eastern end of the lake, where Farrell and Nelly +Sarratt had been sitting, were Hester Martin and Bridget. They too had +turned round, arrested in their walk. Beyond them, at the edge of the +water, Farrell could be seen beckoning. And a little way behind him on +the slope stood a boy with a bicycle. + +'He is calling us,' said Marsworth, and began to run. + +Hester Martin was already running--Bridget too. + +But Hester and Marsworth outstripped the rest. Farrell came to meet +them. + +'Hester, for God's sake, get her sister!' + +'What is it?' gasped Hester. 'Is he killed?' + +'No--"Wounded and missing!" Poor, poor child!' + +'Where is she?' + +'She's sitting there--dazed--with the telegram. She's hardly said +anything since it came.' + +Hester ran on. There on a green edge of the bank sat Nelly staring at a +fluttering piece of paper. + +Hester sank beside her, and put her arms round her. + +'Dear Mrs. Sarratt!' + +'What does it mean?' said Nelly turning her white face. 'Read it.' + +'"Deeply regret to inform you your husband reported wounded and +missing!"' + +'_Missing?_ That means--a prisoner. George is a prisoner--and wounded! +Can't I go to him?' + +She looked piteously at Hester. Bridget had come up and was standing +near. + +'If he's a prisoner, he's in a German hospital. Dear Mrs. Sarratt, +you'll soon hear of him!' + +Nelly stood up. Her young beauty of an hour before seemed to have +dropped from her like the petals of a rose. She put her hand to her +forehead. + +'But I shan't see him--again'--she said slowly--'till the end of the +war--_the end of the war_'--she repeated, pressing her hands on her +eyes. The note of utter desolation brought the tears to Hester's cheeks. +But before she could say anything, Nelly had turned sharply to her +sister. + +'Bridget, I must go up to-night!' + +'Must you?' said Bridget reluctantly. 'I don't see what you can do.' + +'I can go to the War Office--and to that place where they make enquiries +for you. Of _course_, I must go to London!--and I must stay there. There +might be news of him any time.' + +Bridget and Hester looked at each other. The same thought was in their +minds. But Nelly, restored to momentary calmness by her own suggestion, +went quickly to Farrell, who with his sister and Marsworth was standing +a little way off. + +'I must go to London to-night, Sir William. Could you order something +for me?' + +'I'll take you to Windermere, Mrs. Sarratt,' said Cicely before her +brother could reply. 'The motor's there now.' + +'No, no, Cicely, I'll take Mrs. Sarratt,' said Farrell impatiently. +'I'll send back a car from Ambleside, for you and Marsworth.' + +'You forget Sir George Whitehead,' said Cicely quietly. 'I'll do +everything.' + +Sir George Whitehead of the A.M.S.C. was expected at Carton that +evening on a visit of inspection to the hospital. Farrell, as +Commandant, could not possibly be absent. He acknowledged the fact by a +gesture of annoyance. Cicely immediately took things in charge. + +A whirl of packing and departure followed. By the time she and her +charges left for Windermere, Cicely's hat and high heels had been +entirely blotted out by a quite extraordinary display on her part of +both thoughtfulness and efficiency. Marsworth had seen the same +transformation before, but never so markedly. He tried several times to +make his peace with her; but she held aloof, giving him once or twice an +odd look out of her long almond-shaped eyes. + +'Good-bye, and good luck!' said Farrell to Nelly, through the car +window; and as she held out her hand, he stooped and kissed it with a +gulp in his throat. Her deathly pallor and a grey veil thrown back and +tied under her small chin gave her a ghostly loveliness which stamped +itself on his recollection. + +'I am going up to town myself to-morrow. I shall come and see if I can +do anything for you.' + +'Thank you,' said Nelly mechanically. 'Oh yes, I shall have thought of +many things by then. Good-bye.' + +Marsworth and Farrell were left to watch the disappearance of the car +along the moonlit road. + +'Poor little soul!' said Farrell--'poor little soul!' He walked on +along the road, his eyes on the ground. Marsworth offered him a cigar, +and they smoked in silence. + +'What'll the next message be?' said Farrell, after a little while. +'"Reported wounded and missing--now reported killed"? Most probable!' + +Marsworth assented sadly. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +It was a pale September day. In the country, among English woods and +heaths the sun was still strong, and trees and bracken, withered heath, +and reddening berries, burned and sparkled beneath it. But in the dingy +bedroom of a dingy Bloomsbury hotel, with a film of fog over everything +outside, there was no sun to be seen; the plane trees beyond the windows +were nearly leafless; and the dead leaves scudding and whirling along +the dusty, airless streets, under a light wind, gave the last dreary +touch to the scene that Nelly Sarratt was looking at. She was standing +at a window, listlessly staring at some houses opposite, and the +unlovely strip of garden which lay between her and the houses. Bridget +Cookson was sitting at a table a little way behind her, mending some +gloves. + +The sisters had been four days in London. For Nelly, life was just +bearable up to five or six o'clock in the evening because of her morning +and afternoon visits to the Enquiry Office in D---- Street, where +everything that brains and pity could suggest was being done to trace +the 'missing'; where sat also that kind, tired woman, at the table which +Nelly by now knew so well, with her pitying eyes, and her soft voice, +which never grew perfunctory or careless. 'I'm _so_ sorry!--but there's +no fresh news.' That had been the evening message; and now the day's +hope was over, and the long night had to be got through. + +That morning, however, there had been news--a letter from Sarratt's +Colonel, enclosing letters from two privates, who had seen Sarratt go +over the parapet in the great rush, and one of whom had passed +him--wounded--on the ground and tried to stay by him. But 'Lieutenant +Sarratt wouldn't allow it.' 'Never mind me, old chap'--one witness +reported him as saying. 'Get on. They'll pick me up presently.' And +there they had left him, and knew no more. + +Several other men were named, who had also seen him fall, but they had +not yet been traced. They might be in hospital badly wounded, or if +Sarratt had been made prisoner, they had probably shared his fate. 'And +if your husband has been taken prisoner, as we all hope,' said the +gentle woman at the office--'it will be at least a fortnight before we +can trace him. Meanwhile we are going on with all other possible +enquiries.' + +Nelly had those phrases by heart. The phrases too of that short +letter--those few lines--the last she had ever received from George, +written two days before the battle, which had reached her in Westmorland +before her departure. + +That letter lay now on her bosom, just inside the folds of her blouse, +where her hand could rest upon it at any moment. How passionately she +had hoped for another, a fragment perhaps torn from his notebook in the +trenches, and sent back by some messenger at the last moment! She had +heard of that happening to so many others. Why not to her!--oh, why not +to her? + +Her heart was dry with longing and grief; her eyes were red for want of +sleep. There were strange numb moments when she felt nothing, and could +hardly remember why she was in London. And then would come the sudden +smart of reviving consciousness--the terrible returns of an anguish, +under which her whole being trembled. And always, at the back of +everything, the dull thought--'I always knew it--I knew he would +die!'--recurring again and again; only to be dashed away by a protest no +less persistent--'No, no! He is _not dead!--not dead!_ In a +fortnight--she said so--there'll be news--they'll have found him. Then +he'll be recovering--and prisoners are allowed to write. Oh, my +George!--my George!' + +It was with a leap of ecstasy that yet was pain, that she imagined to +herself the coming of the first word from him. Prisoners' letters came +regularly--no doubt of that. Why, the landlady at the hotel had a son +who was at Ruhleben, and she heard once a month. Nelly pictured the +moment when the letter would be in her hand, and she would be looking at +it. Oh, no doubt it wouldn't be addressed by him! By the nurse +perhaps--a German nurse--or another patient. He mightn't be well +enough. All the same, the dream filled her eyes with tears, that for a +moment eased the burning within. + +Her life was now made up of such moments and dreams. On the whole, what +held her most was the fierce refusal to think of him as dead. That +morning, in dressing, among the clothes they had hurriedly brought with +them from Westmorland, she saw a thin black dress--a useful stand-by in +the grime of London--and lifted her hands to take it from the peg on +which it hung. Only to recoil from it with horror. _That_--never! And +she had dressed herself with care in a coat and skirt of rough blue +tweed that George had always liked; scrupulously putting on her little +ornaments, and taking pains with her hair. And at every step of the +process, she seemed to be repelling some attacking force; holding a door +with all her feeble strength against some horror that threatened to come +in. + +The room in which she stood was small and cheerless; but it was all they +could afford. Bridget frankly hated the ugliness and bareness of it; +hated the dingy hotel, and the slatternly servants, hated the boredom of +the long waiting for news to which apparently she was to be committed, +if she stayed on with Nelly. She clearly saw that public opinion would +expect her to stay on. And indeed she was not without some natural pity +for her younger sister. There were moments when Nelly's state caused her +extreme discomfort--even something more. But when they occurred, she +banished them as soon as possible, and with a firm will, which grew the +firmer with exercise. It was everybody's duty to keep up their spirits +and not to be beaten down by this abominable war. And it was a special +duty for those who hated the war, and would stop it at once if they +could. Yet Bridget had entirely declined to join any 'Stop the War,' or +pacifist societies. She had no sympathy with 'that sort of people.' Her +real opinion about the war was that no cause could be worth such +wretched inconvenience as the war caused to everyone. She hated to feel +and know that probably the majority of decent people would say, if +asked,--as Captain Marsworth had practically said--that she, Bridget +Cookson, ought to be doing V.A.D. work, or relieving munition-workers at +week-ends, instead of fiddling with an index to a text-book on 'The New +Psychology.' The mere consciousness of that was already an attack on her +personal freedom to do what she liked, which she hotly resented. And as +to that conscription of women for war-work which was vaguely talked of, +Bridget passionately felt that she would go to prison rather than submit +to such a thing. For the war said nothing whatever to her heart or +conscience. All the great tragic side of it--the side of death and +wounds and tears--of high justice and ideal aims--she put away from her, +as she always had put away such things, in peace. They did not concern +her personally. Why _make_ trouble for oneself? + +And yet here was a sister whose husband was 'wounded and +missing'--probably, as Bridget firmly believed, already dead. And the +meaning of that fact--that possibility--was writ so large on Nelly's +physical aspect, on Nelly's ways and plans, that there was really no +getting away from it. Also--there were other people to be considered. +Bridget did not at all want to offend or alienate Sir William +Farrell--now less than ever. And she was quite aware that he would think +badly of her, if he suspected she was not doing her best for Nelly. + +The September light waned. The room grew so dark that Bridget turned on +an electric light beside her, and by the help of it stole a long look at +Nelly, who was still standing by the window. Would grieving--would the +loss of George--take Nelly's prettiness away? She had certainly lost +flesh during the preceding weeks and days. Her little chin was very +sharp, as Bridget saw it against the window, and her hair seemed to have +parted with its waves and curls, and to be hanging limp about her ears. +Bridget felt a pang of annoyance that anything should spoil Nelly's good +looks. It was altogether unnecessary and absurd. + +Presently Nelly moved back towards her sister. + +'I don't know how I shall get through the next fortnight,' she said in a +low voice. 'I wonder what we had better do?' + +'Well, we can't stay here,' said Bridget sharply. 'It's too expensive, +though it is such a poky hole. We can find a lodging, I suppose, and +feed ourselves. Unless of course we went back to Westmorland. Why can't +you? They can always telegraph.' + +Nelly flushed. Her hand lying on the back of Bridget's chair shook. + +'And if George sent for me,' she said, in the same low, strained voice, +'it would take eight hours longer to get to him than it would from +here.' + +Bridget said nothing. In her heart of hearts she felt perfectly certain +that George never would send. She rose and put down her needlework. + +'I must go and post a letter downstairs. I'll ask the woman in the +office if she knows anything about lodgings.' + +Nelly went back to her post by the window. Her mind was bruised between +two conflicting feelings--a dumb longing for someone to caress and +comfort her, someone who would meet her pain with a bearing less hard +and wooden than Bridget's--and at the same time, a passionate shrinking +from the bare idea of comfort and sympathy, as something not to be +endured. She had had a kind letter from Sir William Farrell that +morning. He had spoken of being soon in London. But she did not know +that she could bear to see him--unless he could help--get something +_done!_ + +Bridget descended to the ground floor, and had a conversation with the +young lady in the office, which threw no light at all on the question of +lodgings. The young lady in question seemed to be patting and pinning up +her back hair all the time, besides carrying on another conversation +with a second young lady in the background. Bridget was disgusted with +her and was just going upstairs again, when the very shabby and partly +deformed hall porter informed her that someone--a gentleman--was waiting +to see her in the drawing-room. + +A gentleman? Bridget hastened to the small and stuffy drawing-room, +where the hall porter had just turned on the light, and there beheld a +tall bearded man pacing up and down, who turned abruptly as she entered. + +'How is she? Is there any news?' + +Sir William Farrell hurriedly shook her offered hand, frowning a little +at the sister who always seemed to him inadequate and ill-mannered. + +'Thank you, Sir William; she is quite well. There is a little news--but +nothing of any consequence.' + +She repeated the contents of the hospital letter, with the comments on +it of the lady they had seen at the office. + +'We shan't hear anything more for a fortnight. They have written to +Geneva.' + +'Then they think he's a prisoner?' + +Bridget supposed so. + +'At any rate they hope he is. Well, I'm thankful there's no worse news. +Poor thing--poor little thing! Is she bearing up--eating?--sleeping?' + +He asked the questions peremptorily, yet with a real anxiety. Bridget +vaguely resented the peremptoriness, but she answered the questions. It +was very difficult to get Nelly to eat anything, and Bridget did not +believe she slept much. + +Farrell shook his head impatiently, with various protesting noises, +while she spoke. Then drawing up suddenly, with his hands in his +pockets, he looked round the room in which they stood. + +'But why are you staying here? It's a dreadful hole! That porter gave me +the creeps. And it's so far from everywhere.' + +'There is a tube station close by. We stay here because it's cheap,' +said Bridget, grimly. + +Sir William walked up the room again, poking his nose into the moribund +geranium that stood, flanked by some old railway guides, on the middle +table, surveyed the dirty and ill-kept writing-table, the uncomfortable +chairs, and finally went to look out of the window; after which he +suddenly and unaccountably brightened up and turned with a smile to +Bridget. + +'Do you think you could persuade your sister to do something that would +please me very much?' + +'I'm sure I don't know, Sir William.' + +'Well, it's this. Cicely and I have a flat in St. James' Square. I'm +there very little just now, and she less. You know we're both awfully +busy at Carton. We've had a rush of wounded the last few weeks. I must +be up sometimes on business for the hospital, but I can always sleep at +my club. So what I want to persuade you to do, Miss Cookson, is to get +Mrs. Sarratt to accept the loan of our flat, for a few weeks while she's +kept in town. It would be a real pleasure to us. We're awfully sorry for +her!' + +He beamed upon her, all his handsome face suffused with kindness and +concern. + +Bridget was amazed, but cautious. + +'It's awfully good of you--but--shouldn't we have to get a servant? I +couldn't do everything.' + +Sir William laughed. + +'Gracious--I should think not! There are always servants there--it's +kept ready for us. I put in a discharged soldier--an army cook and his +wife--a few months ago. They're capital people. I'm sure they'd look +after you. Well now, will you suggest that to Mrs. Sarratt? Could I see +her?' + +Bridget hesitated. Some instinct told her that Nelly would not wish to +accept this proposal. She said slowly-- + +'I'm afraid she's very tired to-night.' + +'Oh, don't bother her then! But just try and persuade her--won't +you--quietly? And send me a word to-night.' + +He gave the address. + +'If I hear that you'll come, I'll make all the arrangements to-morrow +morning before I leave for Westmorland. You can just take her round in a +taxi any time you like, and the servants will be quite ready for you. +You'll be close to D---- Street--close to everything. Now do!' + +He stood with his hands on his side looking down eagerly and a little +sharply on the hard-featured woman before him. + +'It's awfully good of you,' said Bridget again--'most awfully good. Of +course I'll tell Nelly what you say.' + +'And drop me a line to-night?' + +'Yes, I'll write.' + +Sir William took up his stick. + +'Well, I shall put everything in train. Tell her, please, what a +pleasure she'd give us. And she won't keep Cicely away. Cicely will be +up next week. But there's plenty of room. She and her maid wouldn't make +any difference to you. And please tell Mrs. Sarratt too, that if there's +anything I can do--_anything_--she has only to let me know.' + + * * * * * + +Bridget went back to the room upstairs. As she opened the door she saw +Nelly standing under the electric light--motionless. Something in her +attitude startled Bridget. + +She called-- + +'Nelly!' + +Nelly turned slowly, and Bridget saw that she had a letter in her hand. +Bridget ran up to her. + +'Have you heard anything?' + +'He _did_ write to me!--he did!--just the last minute--in the trench. I +knew he must. He gave it to an engineer officer who was going back to +Headquarters, to post. The officer was badly wounded as he went back. +They've sent it me from France. The waiter brought me the letter just +after you'd gone down.' + +The words came in little panting gasps. + +Then, suddenly, she slipped down beside the table at which Bridget had +been working, and hid her face. She was crying. But it was very +difficult weeping--with few tears. The slight frame shook from top to +toe. + +Bridget stood by her, not knowing what to do. But she was conscious of a +certain annoyance that she couldn't begin at once on the subject of the +flat. She put her hand awkwardly on her sister's shoulder. + +'Don't cry so. What does he say?' + +Nelly did not answer for a little. At last she said, her face still +buried-- + +'It was only--to tell me--that he loved me--' + +There was silence again. Then Nelly rose to her feet. She pressed her +hair back from her white face. + +'I don't want any supper, Bridget. I think--I should like to go to bed.' + +Bridget helped her to undress. It was now nearly dark and she drew down +the blinds. When she looked again at Nelly, she saw her lying white and +still, her wide eyes fixed on vacancy. + +'I found a visitor downstairs,' she said, abruptly. 'It was Sir William +Farrell.' + +Nelly shewed no surprise, or interest. But she seemed to find some words +mechanically. + +'Why did he come?' + +Bridget came to the bedside. + +'He wants us to go and stay at his flat--their flat. He and his sister +have it together--in St. James' Square. He wants us to go to-morrow. +He's going back to Carton. There are two servants there. We shouldn't +have any trouble. And you'd be close to D---- Street. Any news they got +they could send round directly.' + +Nelly closed her eyes. + +'I don't care where we go,' she said, under her breath. + +'He wanted a line to-night,' said Bridget--'I can't hear of any +lodgings. And the boarding-houses are all getting frightfully +expensive--because food's going up so.' + +'Not a boarding-house!' murmured Nelly. A shiver of repulsion ran +through her. She was thinking of a boarding-house in one of the +Bloomsbury streets where she and Bridget had once stayed before her +marriage--the long tables full of strange faces--the drawing-room +crowded with middle-aged women, who stared so. + +'Well, I can write to him to-night then, and say we'll go to-morrow? We +certainly can't stay here. The charges are abominable. If we go to their +flat, for a few days, we can look round us and find something cheap.' + +'Where is it?' said Nelly faintly. + +'In St. James' Square.' + +The address conveyed very little to Nelly. She knew hardly anything of +London. Two visits--one to some cousins in West Kensington, another to +a friend at Hampstead--together with the fortnight three years ago in +the Bloomsbury boarding-house, when Bridget had had some grand scheme +with a publisher which never came off, and Nelly had mostly stayed +indoors with bad toothache:--her acquaintance with the great city had +gone no further. Of its fashionable quarters both she and Bridget were +entirely ignorant, though Bridget would not have admitted it. + +Bridget got her writing-case out of her trunk and began to write to Sir +William. Nelly watched her. At last she said slowly, as though she were +becoming a little more conscious of the world around her:-- + +'It's awfully kind of them. But we needn't stay long.' + +'Oh no, we needn't stay long.' + +Bridget wrote the letter, and disappeared to post it. Nelly was left +alone in darkness. The air about her seemed to be ringing with the words +of her letter. + + 'MY OWN DARLING,--We are just going over. I have found a man going + back to D.H.Q. who will post this--and I just want you to know + that, whatever happens, you are my beloved, and our love can't die. + God bless you, my dear, dear wife.... We are all in good + spirits--everything ought to go well--and I will write the first + moment possible. + + 'GEORGE.' + +She seemed to see him, tearing the leaf from the little block she had +given him, and standing in the trench, so slim and straight in his +khaki. And then, what happened after? when the rush came? Would she +never know? If he never came back to her, what was she going to do with +her life? Waves of lonely terror went through her--terror of the long +sorrow before her--terror of her own weakness. + +And then again--reaction. She sat up in bed, angrily wrestling with her +own lapse from hope. Of course it was all coming right! She turned on +the light, with a small trembling hand, and tried to read a newspaper +Bridget had brought in. But the words swam before her; the paper dropped +from her grasp; and when Bridget came back, her face was hidden, she +seemed to be asleep. + + * * * * * + +'Is this it?' said Nelly, looking in alarm at the new and splendid house +before which the taxi had drawn up. + +'Well, it's the right number!' And Bridget, rather flurried, looked at +the piece of paper on which Farrell had written the address for her, the +night before. + +She jumped out of the taxi and ran up some marble steps towards a glass +door covered with a lattice metal-work, beyond which a hall, a marble +staircase and a lift shewed dimly. Inside, a porter in livery, at the +first sight of the taxi, put down the newspaper he was reading, and +hurried to the door. + +'Is this Sir William Farrell's flat?' asked Bridget. + +'It's all right, Miss. They're expecting you. Sir William went off this +morning. I was to tell you he had to go down to Aldershot to-day on +business, but he hoped to look in this evening, on his way to Euston, to +see that you had everything comfortable.' + +Reluctantly, and with a feeble step, Nelly descended, helped by the +porter. + +'Oh, Bridget, I wish we hadn't come!' She breathed it into her sister's +ear, as they stood together in the hall, waiting for the lift which had +been called. Bridget shut her lips tightly, and said nothing. + +The lift carried them up to the third floor, and there at the top the +ex-army cook and his wife were waiting, a pair of stout and comfortable +people, all smiles and complaisance. The two small trunks were +shouldered by the man, and the woman led the way. + +'Lunch will be ready directly, Ma'am,' she said to Nelly, who followed +her in bewilderment across a hall panelled in marble and carpeted with +something red and soft. + +'Sir William thought you would like it about one o'clock. And this is +your room, please, Ma'am--unless you would like anything different. It's +Miss Farrell's room. She always likes the quiet side. And I've put Miss +Cookson next door. I thought you'd wish to be together?' + +Nelly entered a room furnished in white and pale green, luxurious in +every detail, and hung with engravings after Watteau framed in white +wood. Through an open door shewed another room a little smaller, but +equally dainty and fresh in all its appointments. Bridget tripped +briskly through the open door, looked around her and deposited her bag +upon the bed. Nelly meanwhile was being shewn the green-tiled and +marble-floored bathroom attached to her room, Mrs. Simpson chattering on +the various improvements and subtleties, which 'Miss Cicely' had lately +commanded there. + +'But I'm sure you'll be wanting your lunch, Ma'am,' said the woman at +last, venturing a compassionate glance at the pale young creature beside +her. 'It'll be ready in five minutes. I'll tell Simpson he can serve +it.' + +She disappeared, and Nelly sank into a chair. Why had they come to this +place? Her whole nature was in revolt. The gaiety and luxury of the flat +seemed to rise up and reproach her. What was she doing in such +surroundings?--when George--Oh, it was hateful--hateful! She thought +with longing of the little bare room in the Rydal lodgings, where they +had been happy together. + +'Well, are you ready?' said Bridget, bustling in. 'Do take off your +things. You look absolutely done up!' + +Nelly rose slowly, but her face had flushed. + +'I can't stay here, Bridget!' she said with energy--'I can't! I don't +know why we came.' + +'Because we were asked,' said Bridget calmly. 'We can stay, I think, +for a couple of days, can't we, till we find something else? Where are +your brushes?' + +And she began vigorously unpacking for her sister, helplessly watched by +Nelly. They had just come from D---- Street, where Nelly had been shewn +various letters and telegrams; but nothing which promised any real +further clue to George Sarratt's fate. He had been seen advancing--seen +wounded--by at least a dozen men of the regiment, and a couple of +officers, all of whom had now been communicated with. But the wave of +the counter-attack--temporarily successful--had rushed over the same +ground before the British gains had been finally consolidated, and from +that fierce and confused fighting there came no further word of George +Sarratt. It was supposed that in the final German retreat he had been +swept up as a German prisoner. He was not among the dead found and +buried by an English search party on the following day--so much had been +definitely ascertained. + +The friendly volunteer in D---- Street--whose name appeared to be Miss +Eustace--had tried to insist with Nelly that on the whole, and so far, +the news collected was not discouraging. At least there was no +verification of death. And for the rest, there were always the letters +from Geneva to wait for. 'One must be patient,' Miss Eustace had said +finally. 'These things take so long! But everybody's doing their best.' +And she had grasped Nelly's cold hands in hers, long and pityingly. Her +own fine aquiline face seemed to have grown thinner and more strained +even since Nelly had known it. She often worked in the office, she said, +up to midnight. + +All these recollections and passing visualisations of words and faces, +drawn from those busy rooms a few streets off, in which not only George +Sarratt's fate, but her own, as it often seemed to Nelly, were being +slowly and inexorably decided, passed endlessly through her brain, as +she mechanically took off her things, and brushed her hair. + +Presently she was following Bridget across the hall to the drawing-room. +Bridget seemed already to know all about the flat. 'The dining-room +opens out of the drawing-room. It's all Japanese,' she said +complaisantly, turning back to her sister. 'Isn't it jolly? Miss Farrell +furnished it. Sir William let her have it all her own way.' + +Nelly looked vaguely round the drawing-room, which had a blue Persian +carpet, pale purple walls, hung with Japanese colour prints, a few +chairs, one comfortable sofa, a couple of Japanese cabinets, and pots of +Japanese lilies in the corners. It was a room not meant for living in. +There was not a book in it anywhere. It looked exactly what it was--a +perching-place for rich people, who liked their own ways, and could not +be bored with hotels. + +The dining-room was equally bare, costly, and effective. Its only +ornament was a Chinese Buddha, a great terra-cotta, marvellously alive, +which had been looted from some Royal tomb, and now sat serenely out of +place, looking over the dainty luncheon-table to the square outside, and +wrapt in dreams older than Christianity. + +The flat was nominally lent to 'Mrs. Sarratt,' but Bridget was managing +everything, and had never felt so much in her element in her life. She +sat at the head of the table, helped Nelly, gave all the orders, and was +extraordinarily brisk and cheerful. + +Nelly scarcely touched anything, and Mrs. Simpson who waited was much +concerned. + +'Perhaps you'd tell Simpson anything you could fancy, Madam,' she said +anxiously in Nelly's ear, as she handed the fruit. Nelly must needs +smile when anyone spoke kindly to her. She smiled now, though very +wearily. + +'Why, it's all beautiful, thank you. But I'm not hungry.' + +'We'll have coffee in the drawing-room, please, Mrs. Simpson,' said +Bridget rising--a tall masterful figure, in a black silk dress, which +she kept for best occasions. 'Now Nelly, you must rest.' + +Nelly let herself be put on the sofa in the drawing-room, and +Bridget--after praising the coffee, the softness of the chairs, the +beauty of the Japanese lilies, and much speculation on the value +of the Persian carpet which, she finally decided, was old and +priceless--announced that she was going for a walk. + +'Why don't you come too, Nelly? Come and look at the shops. You +shouldn't mope all day long. If they do send for you to nurse George, +you won't have the strength of a cat.' + +But Nelly had shrunk into herself. She said she would stay in and write +a letter to Hester Martin. Presently she was left alone. Mrs. Simpson +had cleared away, and shut all the doors between the sitting-rooms and +the kitchen. Inside the flat nothing was to be heard but the clock +ticking on the drawing-room mantelpiece. Outside, there were +intermittent noises and rattles from the traffic in the square, and +beyond that again the muffled insistent murmur which seemed to Nelly +this afternoon--in her utter loneliness--the most desolate sound she had +ever heard. The day had turned to rain and darkness, and the rapid +closing of the October afternoon prophesied winter. Nelly could not +rouse herself to write the letter to Miss Martin. She lay prone in a +corner of the sofa, dreaming, as she had done all her life; save that +the faculty--of setting in motion at will a stream of vivid and +connected images--which had always been one of her chief pleasures, was +now an obsession and a torment. How often, in her wakeful nights at +Rydal, had she lived over again every moment in the walk to Blea Tarn, +till at last, gathered once more on George's knees, and nestling to his +breast, she had fallen asleep--comforted. + +She went through it all, once more, in this strange room, as the +darkness closed; only the vision ended now, not in a tender thrill--half +conscious, fading into sleep--of remembered joy, but in an anguish of +sobbing, the misery of the frail tormented creature, unable to bear its +life. + +Nevertheless sleep came. For nights she had scarcely slept, and in the +silence immediately round her the distant sounds gradually lost their +dreary note, and became a rhythmical and soothing influence. She fell +into a deep unconsciousness. + + * * * * * + +An hour later, a tall man rang at the outer door of the flat. Mrs. +Simpson obeyed the summons, and found Sir William Farrell on the +threshold. + +'Well, have they come?' + +'Oh, yes, sir.' And Mrs. Simpson gave a rapid, _sotto voce_ account of +the visitors' arrival, their lunch, Mrs. Sarratt's sad looks--'poor +little lady!'--and much else. + +Sir William stepped in. + +'Are they at home?' + +Mrs. Simpson shook her head. + +'They went out after lunch, Sir William, and I have not heard them come +in.' + +Which, of course, was a mistake on the part of Mrs. Simpson, who, +hearing the front door close half an hour after luncheon and no +subsequent movement in the flat, had supposed that the sisters had gone +out together. + +'All right. I'll wait for them. I want to see Mrs. Sarratt before I +start. You may get me a cup of tea, if you like.' + +Mrs. Simpson disappeared with alacrity, and Farrell crossed the hall to +the drawing-room. He turned on the light as he opened the door, and was +at once aware of Nelly's slight form on the sofa. She did not move, and +something in her attitude--some rigidity that he fancied--alarmed him. +He took a few steps, and then saw that there was no cause for alarm. She +was only asleep, poor child, profoundly, pathetically asleep. Her utter +unconsciousness, the delicate hand and arm lying over the edge of the +sofa, and the gleam of her white forehead under its muffling cloud of +hair, moved him strangely. He retreated as quietly as he could, and +almost ran into Mrs. Simpson bringing a tray. He beckoned her into a +small room which he used as his own den. But he had hardly explained the +situation, before there were sounds in the drawing-room, and Nelly +opened the door, which he had closed behind him. He had forgotten to +turn out the light, and its glare had awakened her. + +'Oh, Sir William--' she said, in bewilderment--'Did you come in just +now?' + +He explained his proceedings, retaining the hand she gave him, and +looking down upon her with an impulsive and affectionate pity. + +'You were asleep. I disturbed you,' he said, remorsefully. + +'Oh no, do come in.' + +She led the way into the drawing-room. + +'I wanted--specially--to tell you some things I heard at Aldershot +to-day, which I thought might cheer you,' said Farrell. + +And sitting beside her, while Mrs. Simpson lit a fire and spread a white +tea-table, he repeated various stories of the safe return of 'missing' +men which he had collected for her that morning, including the narrative +of an escaped prisoner, who, although badly wounded, had managed to find +his way back, at night, from the neighbourhood of Brussels, through +various hairbreadth adventures and disguises, and after many weeks to +the British lines. He brought the tale to her, as an omen of hope, +together with his other gleanings; and under the influence of his +cheerful voice and manner, Nelly's aspect changed; the light came back +into her eyes, which hung upon him, as Farrell talked on, persuading +himself, as he persuaded her. So that presently, when tea came in, and +the kettle boiled, she was quite ready to pour out for him, to ask him +questions about his night journey, and thank him timidly for all his +kindness. + +'But this--this is too grand for us!'--she said, looking round her. 'We +must find a lodging soon.' + +He begged her earnestly to let the flat be of use to her, and she, +embarrassed and unwilling, but dreading to hurt his feelings, was +compelled at last to submit to a week's stay. + +Then he got up to go; and she was very sorry to say good-bye to him. As +for him, in her wistful and gracious charm, she had never seemed to him +more lovely. How she became grief!--in her measure reserve! + +He ran down the stairs of the mansion just as Bridget Cookson arrived +with the lift at the third floor. She recognised the disappearing +figure, and stood a moment at the door of the flat, looking after it, a +gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. + + + + +PART II + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +'Is she out?' + +The questioner was William Farrell, and the question was addressed to +his cousin Hester, whom he had found sitting in the little upstairs +drawing-room of the Rydal lodgings, partly knitting, but mostly +thinking, to judge from her slowly moving needles, and her absent eyes +fixed upon the garden outside the open window. + +'She has gone down to the lake--it is good for her to be alone a bit.' + +'You brought her up from Torquay?' + +'I did. We slept in London, and arrived yesterday. Miss Cookson comes +this evening.' + +'Why doesn't she keep away?' said Farrell, impatiently. + +He took a seat opposite his cousin. He was in riding-dress, and looked +in splendid case. From his boyhood he had always been coupled in +Hester's mind with the Biblical words--'ruddy and of a cheerful +countenance'; and as he sat there flushed with air and exercise, they +fitted him even better than usual. Yet there was modern subtlety too in +his restless eyes, and mouth alternately sensitive and ironic. + +Hester's needles began to ply a little faster. A spring wind came +through the window, and stirred her grey hair. + +'How did she get over it yesterday?' Farrell presently asked. + +'Well, of course it was hard,' said Hester, quietly. 'I let her alone, +poor child, and I told Mrs. Weston not to bother her. She came up to +these rooms and shut herself up a little. I went over to my own cottage, +and came back for supper. Then she had got it over--and I just kissed +her and said nothing. It was much best.' + +'Do you think she gives up hope?' + +Hester shook her head. + +'Not the least. You can see that.' + +'What do you mean?' + +'When she gives up hope, she will put on a black dress.' + +Farrell gave an impatient sigh. + +'You know there can't be the smallest doubt that Sarratt is dead! He +died in some German hospital, and the news has never come through.' + +'The Red Cross people at Geneva declare that if he had died in hospital +they would know. The identification disks are returned to them--so they +say--with remarkable care.' + +'Well then, he died on the field, and the Germans buried him.' + +'In which case the poor soul will know nothing--ever,' said Hester +sadly. 'But, of course, she believes he is a prisoner.' + +'My dear Hester, if he were, we should certainly have heard! Enquiries +are now much more thorough, and the results much more accurate, than +they were a year ago.' + +'Loss of memory?--shell-shock?' said Hester vaguely. + +'They don't do away with your disk, and your regimental marks, etc. +Whatever may happen to a private, an officer doesn't slip through and +vanish like this, if he is still alive. The thing is perfectly clear.' + +Hester shook her head without speaking. She was just as thoroughly +convinced as Farrell that Nelly was a widow; but she did not see how +anybody could proclaim it before Nelly did. + +'I wonder how long it will take to convince her,' said Farrell, after a +pause. + +'Well, I suppose when peace comes, if there's no news then, she will +have to give it up. By the way, when may one--legally--presume that +one's husband is dead?' asked Hester, suddenly lifting her shrewd grey +eyes to the face of her visitor. + +'It used to be seven years. But I believe now you can go to the +Courts--' + +'If a woman wants to re-marry? Well that, of course, Nelly Sarratt will +never do!' + +'My dear Hester, what nonsense!' said Farrell, vehemently. 'Of course +she'll marry again. What is she?--twenty-one? It would be a sin and a +shame.' + +'I only meant she would never take any steps of her own will to separate +herself from Sarratt.' + +'Women look at things far too sentimentally!' exclaimed Farrell, 'and +they just spoil their lives. However, neither you nor I can prophesy +anything. Time works wonders; and if he didn't, we should all be wrecks +and lunatics!' + +Hester said nothing. She was conscious of suppressed excitement in the +man before her. Farrell watched her knitting fingers for a little, and +then remarked:-- + +'But of course at present what has to be done, is to improve her health, +and distract her thoughts.' + +Hester's eyes lifted again. + +'And _you_ want to take it in hand?' + +Her emphasis on the pronoun was rather sharp. Farrell's fair though +sunburnt skin shewed a sudden redness. + +'Yes, I do. Why shouldn't I?' His look met hers full. + +'She's very lonely--very unprotected,' said Hester, slowly. + +'You mean, you can't trust me?' he said, flushing deeper. + +'No, Willy--no!' Hester's earnest, perplexed look appeased his rising +anger. 'But it's a very difficult position, you must see for yourself. +Ever since George Sarratt disappeared, you've been--what shall I +say?--the poor child's earthly Providence. Her illness--her +convalescence--you've done everything--you've provided everything--' + +'With her sister's consent, remember!--and I promised Sarratt to look +after them!' + +Farrell's blue eyes were now bright and stubborn. Hester realised him as +ready for an argument which both he and she had long foreseen. She and +Farrell had always been rather intimate friends, and he had come to her +for advice in some very critical moments of his life. + +'Her sister!' repeated Hester, contemptuously. 'Yes, indeed, Bridget +Cookson--in my opinion--is a great deal too ready to accept everything +you do! But Nelly has fought it again and again. Only, in her weakness, +with you on one side--and Bridget on the other--what could she do?' + +She had taken the plunge now. Her own colour had risen--her hand shook a +little on her needles. And she had clearly roused some strong emotion in +Farrell. After a few moments' silence, he fell upon her, speaking rather +huskily. + +'You mean I have taken advantage of her?' + +'I don't mean anything of the kind!' Hester's tone shewed her distress. +'I know that all you have done has been out of pure friendship and +goodness-- + +He stopped her. + +'Don't go on!' he said roughly. 'Whatever I am, I'm not a hypocrite. I +worship the ground she treads on!' + +There was silence. Hester bent again over her work. The thoughts of both +flew back over the preceding six months. Nelly's utter collapse after +five or six weeks in London, when the closest enquiries, backed by +Farrell's intelligence, influence and money--he had himself sent out a +special agent to Geneva--had failed to reveal the slightest trace of +George Sarratt; her illness, pneumonia, the result of a slight chill +affecting a general physical state depressed by grief and sleeplessness; +her long and tedious convalescence; and that pitiful dumbness and +inertia from which she had only just begun to emerge. Hester was +thinking too of the nurses, the doctors, the lodgings at Torquay, the +motor, the endless flowers and books!--all provided, practically, by +Farrell, aided and abetted by Bridget's readiness--a discreditable +readiness, in the eyes of a person of such Spartan standards as Hester +Martin--to avail herself to any extent of other people's money. The +patient was not to blame. Even in the worst times of her illness, Nelly +had shewn signs of distress and revolt. But Bridget, instructed by +Farrell, had talked vaguely of 'a loan from a friend'; and Nelly had +been too ill, too physically weak, to urge enquiry further. + +Seeing that he was to blame, Farrell broke in upon Hester's +recollections. + +'You know very well'--he said vehemently--'that if anything less had +been done for her, she would have died!' + +Would she? It was the lavishness and costliness of Farrell's giving +which had shocked Hester's sense of delicacy, and had given rise--she +was certain--to gossip among the Farrell friends and kindred that could +easily have been avoided. She looked at her companion steadily. + +'Suppose we grant it, Willy. But now she's convalescent, she's going to +get strong. Let her live her own life. You can't marry her--and'--she +added it deliberately--'she is as much in love with her poor George as +she ever was!' + +Farrell moved restlessly in his chair. She saw him wince--and she had +intended the blow. + +'I can't marry her--yet--perhaps for years. But why can't I be her +friend? Why can't I share with her the things that give me +pleasure--books--art--and all the rest? Why should you condemn me to see +her living on a pittance, with nobody but a sister who is as hard as +nails to look after her?--lonely, and unhappy, and dull--when I know +that I could help her, turn her mind away from her trouble--make her +take some pleasure in life again? You talk, Hester, as though we had a +dozen lives to play with, instead of this one rickety business!' + +His resentment grew with the expression of it. But Hester met him +unflinchingly. + +'I'm anxious--because human nature is human nature--and risk is risk,' +she said slowly. + +He bent forward, his hands on his knees. + +'I swear to you I will be honestly her friend! What do you take me for, +Hester? You know very well that--I have had my adventures, and they're +over. I'm not a boy. I can answer for myself.' + +'All very well!--but suppose--_suppose_--before she felt herself +free--and against her conscience--_she_ were to fall in love with +_you_?' + +Farrell could not conceal the flash that the mere words, reluctantly as +they were spoken, sent through his blue eyes. He laughed. + +'Well--you're there! Act watch-dog as much as you please. Besides--we +all know--you have just said so--that she does not believe in Sarratt's +death, that she feels herself still his wife, and not his widow. That +fact establishes the relation between her and me. And if the outlook +changes--' + +His voice dropped to a note of pleading-- + +'Let me, Hester!--let me!' + +'As if I could prevent you!' said Hester, rather bitterly, bending again +over her work. + +'Yes, you could. You have such influence with her now, that you could +banish me entirely if you pleased. A word from you would do it. But it +would be hideously cruel of you--and abominally unjust! However, I know +your power--over her--and so over me. And so I made up my mind it was no +good trying to conceal anything from you. I've told you straight out. I +love her--and because I love her--you may be perfectly certain I shall +protect her!' + +Silence again. Farrell had turned towards the open window. When Hester +turned her eyes she saw his handsome profile, his Nibelung's head and +beard against the stony side of the fell. A man with unfair advantages, +it seemed to her, if he chose to put out his strength;--the looks of a +king, a warm heart, a sympathetic charm, felt quite as much by men as by +women, and ability which would have distinguished him in any career, if +his wealth had not put the drag on industry. But at the moment he was +not idle. He was more creditably and fully employed then she had ever +known him. His hospital and his pride in it were in fact Nelly Sarratt's +best safeguard. Whatever he wished, he could not possibly spend all his +time at her feet. + +Hester tried one more argument--the conventional. + +'Have you ever really asked yourself, Willy, how it will look to the +outside world--what people will think? It is all very well to scoff at +Mrs. Grundy, but the poor child has no natural guardian. We both agree +her sister is no use to her.' + +'Let them think!'--he turned to her again with energy--'so long as you +and I _know_. Besides--I shan't compromise her in any way. I shall be +most careful not to do so.' + +'Look at this room!' said Hester drily. She herself surveyed it. +Farrell's laugh had a touch of embarrassment. + +'Well?--mayn't anyone give things to a sick child? Hush!--here she is!' + +He drew further back into the room, and they both watched a little +figure in a serge dress crossing the footbridge beyond the garden. Then +she came into the garden, and up the sloping lawn, her hat dangling in +her hand, and the spring sunshine upon her. Hester thought of the +preceding June; of the little bride, with her springing step, and +radiant eyes. Nelly, as she was now, seemed to her the typical +figure--or rather, one of the two typical figures of the war--the man in +action, the woman in bereavement. Sorrow had marked her; bitten into her +youth, and blurred it. Yet it had also dignified and refined her. She +was no less lovely. + +As she approached, she saw them and waved to them. Farrell went to the +sitting-room door to meet her, and it seemed both to him and Hester that +in spite of her emaciation and her pallor, she brought the spring in +with her. She had a bunch of willow catkins and primroses in her hand, +and her face, for all its hollow cheeks and temples, shewed just a +sparkle of returning health. + +It was clear that she was pleased to see Farrell. But her manner of +greeting him now was very different from what it had been in the days +before her loss. It was much quieter and more assured. His +seniority--there were nineteen years between them--his conspicuous +place in the world, his knowledge and accomplishment, had evidently +ceased to intimidate her. Something had equalised them. + +But his kindness could still make her shy. + +Half-way across the room, she caught sight of a picture, on an easel, +both of which Farrell had brought with him. + +'Oh!---' she said, and stopped short, looking from it to him. + +He enjoyed her surprise. + +'Well? Do you remember admiring it at the cottage? I'm up to the neck in +work. I never go there. I thought you and Hester might as well take care +of it for a bit.' + +Nelly approached it. It was one of the Turner water-colours which +glorified the cottage; the most adorable, she thought, of all of them. +It shewed a sea of downs, their grassy backs flowing away wave after +wave, down to the real sea in the gleaming distance. Between the downs +ran a long valley floor--cottages on it, woods and houses, farms and +churches, strung on a silver river; under the mingled cloud and sunshine +of an April day. It breathed the very soul of England,--of this sacred +long-descended land of ours. Sarratt, who had stood beside her when she +had first looked at it, had understood it so at once. + +'Jolly well worth fighting for--this country! isn't it?' he had said to +Farrell over her head, and once or twice afterwards he had spoken to her +of the drawing with delight. 'I shall think of it--over there. It'll do +one good.' + +As she paused before it now, a sob rose in her throat. But she +controlled herself quickly. Then something beyond the easel caught her +eye--a mass of flowers, freesias, narcissus, tulips, tumbled on a table; +then a pile of new books; and finally, a surprising piece of furniture. + +'What have you been doing now?' she asked him, wondering, and, as Hester +thought, shrinking back a little. + +'It's from Cicely'--he said apologetically. 'She made me bring it. She +declared she'd sampled the sofa here,--' he pointed to an ancient one in +a corner--'and it would disgrace a dug-out. It's her affair--don't blame +me!' + +Nelly looked bewildered. + +'But I'm not ill now. I'm getting well.' + +'If you only knew what a ghost you look still,' he said vehemently, +'you'd let Cicely have her little plot. This used to stand in my +mother's sitting-room. It was bought for her. Cicely had it put to +rights.' + +As he spoke, he made a hasty mental note that Cicely would have to be +coached in her part. + +Nelly examined the object. It was a luxurious adjustable couch, covered +in flowery chintz, with a reading-desk, and well supplied with the +softest cushions. + +She laughed, but there was rather a flutter in her laugh. + +'It's awfully kind of Cicely. But you know--' + +Her eyes turned on Farrell with a sudden insistence. Hester had just +left the room, and her distant voice--with other voices--could be heard +in the garden. + +'--You know you mustn't--all of you--spoil me so, any more. I've got my +life to face. You mean it so kindly--but--' + +She sank into a chair by the window that Farrell had placed for her, and +her aspect struck him painfully. There was so much weakness in it; and +yet a touch of fierceness. + +'I've got my life to face,' she repeated--'and you mustn't, Sir +William--you _mustn't_ let me get too dependent on you--and Cicely--and +Hester. Be my friend--my true friend--and help me--' + +She bent forward, and her pale lips just breathed the rest-- + +'Help me--_to endure hardness_! That's what I want--for George's +sake--and my own. I must find some work to do. In a few months perhaps I +might be able to teach--but there are plenty of things I could do now. I +want to be just--neglected a little--treated as a normal person!' + +She smiled faintly at him as he stood beside her. He felt himself +rebuked--abashed--as though he had been in some sort an intruder on her +spiritual freedom; had tried to purchase her dependence by a kindness +she did not want. That was not in her mind, he knew. But it was in +Hester's. And there was not wanting a certain guilty consciousness in +his own. + +But he threw it off. Absurdity! She _did_ need his friendship; and he +had done what he had done without the shadow of a corrupt motive--_en +tout bien, tout honneur_. + +It was intolerable to him to think of her as poor and resourceless--left +to that disagreeable sister and her own melancholy thoughts. Still the +first need of all was that she should trust him--as a good friend, who +had slipped by force of circumstances into a kind of guardian's +position. Accordingly he applied himself to the kind of persuasion that +befits seniority and experience. She had asked to be treated as a normal +person. He proved to her, gently laughing at her, that the claim was +preposterous. Ask her doctor!--ask Hester! As for teaching, time enough +to talk about that when she had a little flesh on her bones, a little +strength in her limbs. She might read, of course; that was what the +couch was for. Lying there by the window she might become as learned as +she liked, and get strong at the same time. He would keep her stocked +with books. The library at Carton was going mouldy for lack of use. And +as for her drawing, he had hoped--perhaps--she might some time take a +lesson-- + +Then he saw a little shiver run through her. + +'Could I?' she said in a low voice, turning her face away. And he +perceived that the bare idea of resuming old pleasures--the pleasures of +her happy, her unwidowed time--was still a shock to her. + +'I'm sure it would help'--he said, persevering. 'You have a real turn +for water-colour. You should cultivate it--you should really. In my +belief you might do a great deal better with it than with teaching.' + +That roused her. She sat up, her eyes brightening. + +'If I _worked_--you really think? And then,' her voice dropped--'if +George came back--' + +'Exactly,' he said gravely--'it might be of great use. Didn't you wish +for something normal to do? Well, here's the chance. I can supply you +with endless subjects to copy. There are more in the cottage than you +would get through in six months. And I could send you over portfolios of +my own studies and _academies_, done at Paris, and in the Slade, which +would help you--and sometimes we could take some work out of doors.' + +She said nothing, but her sad puzzled eyes, as they wandered over the +garden and the lake, shewed that she was considering it. + +Then suddenly her expression changed. + +'Isn't that Cicely's voice?' She motioned towards the garden. + +'I daresay. I sent on the motor to meet her at Windermere. She's been in +town for two or three weeks, selling at Red Cross Bazaars and things. +And by George!--isn't that Marsworth?' + +He sprang up to look, and verified his guess. The tall figure on the +lawn with Cicely and Hester was certainly Marsworth. He and Nelly looked +at each other, and Nelly smiled. + +'You know Cicely and I have become great friends?' she said shyly. 'It's +so odd that I should call her Cicely--but she makes me.' + +'She treats you nicely?--at last?' + +'She's awfully good to me,' said Nelly, with emphasis. 'I used to be so +afraid of her.' + +'What wrought the miracle?' + +But Nelly shook her head, and would not tell. + +'I had a letter from Marsworth a week ago,' said Farrell +reflecting--'asking how and where we all were. I told him I was tied and +bound to Carton--no chance of getting away for ages--but that Cicely had +kicked over the traces and gone up to London for a month. Then he sent a +post-card to say that he was coming up for a fortnight's treatment, and +would go to his old quarters at the Rectory. Ah!--' + +He paused, grinning. The same thought occurred to both of them. +Marsworth was still suffering very much at times from his neuralgia in +the arm, and had a great belief in one of the Carton surgeons, who, with +Farrell's aid, had now installed one of the most complete electrical and +gymnastic apparatus in the kingdom, at the Carton hospital. Once, during +an earlier absence of Cicely's before Christmas, he had suddenly +appeared at the Rectory, for ten days' treatment; and now--again! +Farrell laughed. + +'As for Cicely, you can never count on her for a week together. She got +home-sick, and wired to me that she was coming to-night. I forgot all +about Marsworth. I expect they met at the station; and quarrelled all +the way here. What on earth is Cicely after in that direction! You say +you've made friends with her. Do you know?' + +Nelly looked conscious. + +'I--I guess something,' she said. + +'But you mustn't tell?' + +She nodded, smiling. Farrell shrugged his shoulders. + +'Well, am I to encourage Marsworth--supposing he comes to me for +advice--to go and propose to the Rector's granddaughter?' + +'Certainly not!' said Nelly, opening a pair of astonished eyes. + +'Aha, I've caught you! You've given the show away. But you know'--his +tone grew serious--'it's not at all impossible that he may. She torments +him too much.' + +'He must do nothing of the kind,' said Nelly, with decision. + +'Well, you tell him so. I wash my hands of them. I can't fathom either +of them. Here they are!' + +Voices ascending the stairs announced the party. Cicely came in first; +tired and travel-stained, and apparently in the worst of tempers. But +she seemed glad to see Nelly Sarratt, whom she kissed, to the +astonishment of her Cousin Hester, who was not as yet aware of the new +relations between the two. And then, flinging herself into a chair +beside Nelly, she declared that she was dead-beat, that the train had +been intolerably full of khaki, and that soldiers ought to have trains +to themselves. + +'Thank your stars, Cicely, that you are allowed to travel at all,' said +Farrell. 'No civilian nowadays matters a hap'orth.' + +'And then we talk about Prussian Militarism!' cried Cicely. And she went +off at score describing the invasion of her compartment at Rugby by a +crowd of young officers, whose manners were 'atrocious.' + +'What was their crime?' asked Marsworth, quietly. He sat in the +background, cigarette in hand, a strong figure, rather harshly drawn, +black hair slightly grizzled, a black moustache, civilian clothes. He +had filled out since the preceding summer and looked much better in +health. But his left arm was still generally in its sling. + +'They had every crime!' said Cicely impatiently. 'It isn't worth +discriminating.' + +Marsworth raised his eyebrows. + +'Poor boys!' + +Cicely flushed. + +'You think, of course, I have no right to criticise anything in khaki!' + +'Not at all. Criticism is the salt of life.' His eyes twinkled. + +'That I entirely deny!' said Cicely, firmly. She made a fantastic but +agreeable figure as she sat near the window in the full golden light of +the March evening. Above her black toque there soared a feather which +almost touched the ceiling of the low room--a _panache_, nodding +defiance; while her short grey skirts shewed her shapely ankles and +feet, clothed in grey gaiters and high boots of the very latest +perfection. + +'What do you deny, Cicely?' asked her brother, absently, conscious +always, through all the swaying of talk, of the slight childish form of +Nelly Sarratt beneath him, in her deep chair; and of the eyes and mouth, +which after the few passing smiles he had struck from them, were veiled +again in their habitual sadness. '_Here I and sorrow sit_.' The words +ran through his mind, only to be passionately rejected. She was +young!--and life was long. Forget she would, and must. + +At her brother's question, Cicely merely shrugged her shoulders. + +'Your sister was critical,' said Marsworth, laughing,--'and then denies +the uses of criticism.' + +'As some people employ it!' said Cicely, pointedly. + +Marsworth's mouth twitched--but he said nothing. + +Then Hester, perceiving that the atmosphere was stormy, started some of +the usual subjects that relieve tension; the weather--the possibility of +a rush of Easter tourists to the Lakes--the daffodils that were +beginning to make beauty in some sheltered places. Marsworth assisted +her; while Cicely took a chair beside Nelly, and talked exclusively to +her, in a low voice. Presently Hester saw their hands slip +together--Cicely's long and vigorous fingers enfolding Nelly's thin +ones. How had two such opposites ever come to make friends? The kindly +old maid was very conscious of cross currents in the spiritual air, as +she chatted to Marsworth. She was keenly aware of Farrell, and could not +keep the remembrance of what he had said to her out of her mind. Nelly's +face and form, also, as the twilight veiled them, were charged for +Hester with pitiful meaning. While at the back of her thoughts there was +an expectation, a constant and agitating expectation, of another +arrival. Bridget Cookson might be upon them at any moment. To Hester +Martin she was rapidly becoming a disquieting and sinister element in +this group of people. Yet why, Hester could not really have explained. + +The afternoon was rapidly drawing in, and Farrell was just beginning to +take out his watch, and talk of starting home, when the usual clatter of +wheels and hoofs announced the arrival of the evening coach. Nelly sat +up, looking very white and weary. + +'I am expecting my sister,' she said to Farrell. 'She has no doubt come +by this coach.' + +And in a few more minutes, Bridget was in the room, distributing to +everybody there the careless staccato greetings which were her way of +protecting herself against the world. Her entrance and her manner had +always a disintegrating effect upon other human beings; and Bridget had +no sooner shaken hands with the Farrells than everybody--save Nelly--was +upon their feet and ready to move. One of Bridget's most curious and +marked characteristics was an unerring instinct for whatever news might +be disagreeable to the company in which she found herself; and on this +occasion she brought some bad war news--a German advance at Verdun, with +corresponding French losses--and delivered it with the emphasis of one +to whom it was not really unwelcome. Cicely, to whom, flourishing her +evening paper, she had mainly addressed herself, listened with the +haughty and casual air she generally put on for Bridget Cookson. She had +succumbed for her own reasons to the charm of Nelly. She was only the +more inclined to be rude to Bridget. Accordingly she professed complete +incredulity on the subject of the news. 'Invented,'--she supposed--'to +sell some halfpenny rag or other. It would all be contradicted +to-morrow.' Then when Bridget, smarting under so much scepticism, +attempted to support her tale by the testimony of various stale morsels +of military gossip, current in a certain pessimist and pacifist +household she had been visiting in Manchester, as to the unfavourable +situation in France, and the dead certainty of the loss of Verdun; +passing glibly on to the 'bad staff work' on the British side, and the +'poor quality of the new officers compared to the old,' etc.--Cicely +visibly turned up her nose, and with a few deft, cat-like strokes put a +raw provincial in her place. She, Cicely, of course--she made it plain, +by a casual hint or two--had just come from the very centre of things; +from living on a social diet of nothing less choice than Cabinet +Ministers and leading Generals--Bonar Law, Asquith, Curzon, Briand, +Lloyd George, Thomas, the great Joffre himself. Bridget began to scowl a +little, and had it been anyone else than Cicely Farrell who was thus +chastising her, would soon have turned her back upon them. For she was +no indiscriminate respecter of persons, and cared nothing at all about +rank or social prestige. But from a Farrell she took all things +patiently; till Cicely, suddenly discovering that her victim was giving +her no sport, called peremptorily to 'Willy' to help her put on her +cloak. But Farrell was having some last words with Nelly, and Marsworth +came forward-- + +'Let me--' + +'Oh thank you!' said Cicely carelessly, 'I can manage it myself.' And +she did not allow him to touch it. + +Marsworth retreated, and Hester, who had seen the little incident, +whispered indignantly in her cousin's ear-- + +'Cicely!--you are a wicked little wretch!' + +But Cicely only laughed, and her feather made defiant nods and +flourishes all the way downstairs. + +'Come along Marsworth, my boy,' said Farrell when the good-byes were +said, and Hester stood watching their departure, while Cicely chattered +from the motor, where she sat wrapped in furs against a rising east +wind. 'Outside--or inside?' He pointed to the car. + +'Outside, thank you,' said Marsworth, with decision. He promptly took +his place beside the chauffeur, and Farrell and his sister were left to +each other's company. Farrell had seldom known his companion more cross +and provoking than she was during the long motor ride home; and on their +arrival at Carton she jumped out of the car, and with barely a nod to +Marsworth, vanished into the house. + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile Nelly had let Hester install her on the Carton couch, and lay +there well shawled, beside the window, her delicate face turned to the +lake and the mountains. Bridget was unpacking, and Hester was just +departing to her own house. Nelly could hardly let her go. For a month +now, Hester had been with her at Torquay, while Bridget was pursuing +some fresh 'work' in London. And Nelly's desolate heart had found both +calm and bracing in Hester's tenderness. For the plain shapeless +spinster was one of those rare beings who in the Lampadephoria of life, +hand on the Lamp of Love, pure and undefiled, as they received it from +men and women, like themselves, now dead. + +But Hester went at last, and Nelly was alone. The lake lay steeped in a +rich twilight, into which the stars were rising. The purple breast of +Silver How across the water breathed of shelter, of rest, of things +ineffable. Nelly's eyes were full of tears, and her hands clasped on her +breast scarcely kept down the sobbing. There, under the hands, was the +letter which George had written to her, the night before he left her. +She had been told of its existence within a few days of his +disappearance; and though she longed for it, a stubborn instinct had +bade her refuse to have it, refuse to open it. 'No!--I was only to open +it, if George was dead. And he is not dead!' And as time went on, it had +seemed to her for months, as if to open it, would be in some mysterious +way to seal his fate. But at last she had sent for it--at last she had +read it--with bitter tears. + +She would wear no black for him--her lost lover. She told herself to +hope still. But she was, in truth, beginning to despair. And into her +veins, all unconsciously, as into those of the old brown earth, the +tides of youth, the will to live, were slowly, slowly, surging back. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +'You have gone far enough,' said Cicely imperiously. 'I am going to take +you home.' + +'Let me sit a little first. It's all so lovely. Nelly dropped into the +soft springy turf, dried by a mild east wind, and lay curled up under a +rock, every tremulous nerve in her still frail body played on by the +concert of earth and sky before her. It was May; the sky was china-blue, +and the clouds sailed white upon it. The hawthorns too were white upon +the fell-side, beside the ageing gold of the gorse, while below, the +lake lay like roughened silver in its mountain cup, and on the sides of +Nab Scar, below the screes, the bronze of the oaks ran in and out among +the feathery green of the larch plantations, or the flowering grass of +the hay-meadows dropping to the lake. The most spiritual moment of the +mountain spring was over. This was earth in her moment of ferment, +rushing towards the fruition of summer. + +Nelly's youth was keenly, automatically conscious of the physical +pleasure of the day; except indeed for recurrent moments, when that very +pleasure revived the sharpness of grief. Soon it would be the +anniversary of her wedding day. Every hour of that day, and of the +honeymoon bliss which followed it, seemed to be still so close to her. +Surely she had only to put out her hand to find his, and all the horror +and the anguish swept away. Directly she shut her eyes on this spring +scene, she was in that other life, which had been, and therefore must +still be. + +But she had not been talking of him with Cicely. She very seldom talked +of him now, or of the past. She kept up correspondence with half a dozen +men of his company--the brother officer to whom Sarratt had given his +last letter--a sergeant, and three or four privates, who had written to +her about him. She had made friends with them all, especially with the +young lieutenant. They seemed to like hearing from her; and she followed +all their migrations and promotions with a constant sympathy. One of +them had just written to her from a hospital at Boulogne. He had been +seriously wounded in a small affair near Festubert early in May. He was +getting better he said, but he hardly cared whether he recovered or not. +Everybody he cared for in the regiment had 'gone west' in the fighting +of the preceding month. No big push either,--just many little affairs +that came to nothing--it was 'damned luck!' There was one of his +officers that he couldn't get over--he couldn't get over 'Mr. Edward' +being killed. He--the writer--had been Mr. Edward's servant for a month +or two--having known his people at home--and a nicer young fellow +never stepped. 'When I go back, I'm going to look for Mr. Edward--they +say he was buried close to the trenches where he fell, and I'm going to +put him in some quiet place; and then when the war's over we can bring +him back to Baston Magna, and lay him with his own people in Baston +churchyard.' + +'I wonder who Mr. Edward was,' said Nelly to herself, with half shut +eyes. She had entirely forgotten Cicely's neighbourhood. But Cicely +turned round, and asked her what she was thinking of. Nelly repeated the +letter, and Cicely suddenly shewed agitation--'Edward!--Baston +Magna!--he means Edward Longmore!' + +Cicely rarely cried. When she was moved, she had a way of turning a +grey-white, and speaking with particular deliberation, as though every +word were an effort. Of late, for some mysterious reason, she only +indulged occasionally in 'make-up'; there was no rouge, at any rate, on +this afternoon, to disguise her change of colour. She looked oddly at +Nelly. + +'I danced with him at Christmas,' she said. 'There was a very smart +party at a house in Grosvenor Square. The Prince was there, home on +short leave, and about twenty young men in khaki, and twenty girls. +Edward Longmore was there--he wrote to me afterwards. Oh, he was much +younger than I. He was the dearest, handsomest, bravest little fellow. +When I saw his name in the list--I just'--she ground her small white +teeth--'I just _cursed_ the war! Do you know'--she rolled over on the +grass beside Nelly, her chin in her hands--'the July before the war, I +used to play tennis in a garden near London. There were always five or +six boys hanging about there--jolly handsome boys, with everything that +anybody could want--family, and money, and lots of friends--all the +world before them. And there's not one of them left. They're all +_dead_--_dead_! Think of that! Boys of twenty and twenty-one. What'll +the girls do they used to play and dance with? All their playfellows are +gone. They can't marry--they'll never marry. It hadn't anything to do +with me, of course. I'm twenty-eight. I felt like a mother to them! But +I shan't marry either!' + +Nelly didn't answer for a moment. Then she put out a hand and turned +Cicely's face towards her. + +'Where is he?--and what is he doing?' she said, half laughing, but +always with that something behind her smile which seemed to set her +apart. + +Cicely sat up. + +'He? Oh, that gentleman! Well, _he_ has got some fresh work--just the +work he wanted, he says, in the Intelligence Department, and he writes +to Willy that life is "extraordinarily interesting," and he's "glad to +have lived to see this thing, horrible as it is."' + +'Well, you wouldn't wish him to be miserable?' + +'I should have no objection at all to his being miserable,' said Cicely +calmly, 'but I am not such a fool as to suppose that I should ever know +it, if he were.' + +'Cicely!' + +Cicely took up a stalk of grass, and began to bite it. Her eyes seemed +on fire. Nelly was suddenly aware of the flaming up of fierce elemental +things in this fashionably dressed young woman whose time was oddly +divided between an important share in the running of her brother's +hospital, and a hungry search after such gaieties as a world at war +might still provide her with. She could spend one night absorbed in some +critical case, and eagerly rendering the humblest V.A.D. service to the +trained nurses whom her brother paid; and the next morning she would +travel to London in order to spend the second night in one of those +small dances at great houses of which she had spoken to Nelly, where the +presence of men just come from, or just departing to, the firing line +lent a zest to the talk and the flirting, the jealousies and triumphs of +the evening that the dances of peace must do without. Then after a +morning of wild spending in the shops she would take a midday train back +to Cumberland and duty. + +Nelly, looking at her, wondered afresh how they had ever come to be +friends. Yet they were friends, and her interest in Cicely's affairs was +one of the slender threads drawing her back to life. + +It had all happened when she was ill at the flat; after that letter from +the Geneva Red Cross which reported that in spite of exhaustive +enquiries among German hospitals, and in the prisoners' camps no trace +of Lieutenant Sarratt could be found. On the top of the letter, and the +intolerable despair into which it had plunged her, had come influenza. +There was no doubt--Nelly's recollection faced it candidly--that she +would have come off badly but for Cicely. Bridget had treated the +illness on the hardening plan, being at the moment slightly touched with +Christian Science. Nelly should 'think it away.' To stay in bed and give +in was folly. She meanwhile had found plenty to do in London, and was +away for long hours. In one of these absences, Cicely--having been +seized with a sudden hunger for the flesh-pots of 'town'--appeared at +the flat with her maid. She discovered Nelly Sarratt in bed, and so weak +as to be hardly capable of answering any question. Mrs. Simpson was +doing her best; but she gave an indignant account of Bridget's +behaviour, and Cicely at once took a strong line, both as a professional +nurse--of sorts--and as mistress of the flat. Bridget, grimly defensive, +was peremptorily put on one side, and Cicely devoted the night she was +to have spent in dancing to tending her half-conscious guest. In the +days that followed she fell, quite against her will, under the touching +charm of Nelly's refinement, humility and sweetness. Her own trenchant +and masterful temper was utterly melted, for the time, by Nelly's +helpless state, by the grief which threatened to kill her, and by a +gratefulness for any kindness shewn her, which seemed to Cicely almost +absurd. + +She fell in love--impetuously--with the little creature thus thrown upon +her pity. She sent for a trained nurse and their own doctor. She wired +for Hester Martin, and in forty-eight hours Bridget had been entirely +ousted, and Nelly's state had begun to shew signs of improvement. +Bridget took the matter stoically. 'I know nothing about nursing,' she +said, with composure. 'If you wish to look after my sister, by all means +look after her. Many thanks. I propose to go and stay near the British +Museum, and will look in here when I can.' + +So she departed, and Cicely stayed in London for three weeks until Nelly +was strong enough to go to Torquay. Then, reluctantly, she gave up her +charge to Bridget, she being urgently wanted at Carton, and Hester at +Rydal. Bridget reappeared on the scene with the same sangfroid as she +had left it. She had no intention of quarrelling with the Farrells +whatever they might do; and in an eminently satisfactory interview with +Sir William--quite unknown to Nelly--she allowed him to give her a +cheque which covered all their expenses at Torquay. + +Meanwhile Nelly had discovered Cicely's secret--which indeed was not +very secret. Captain Marsworth had appeared in London for the purpose of +attending his Medical Board, and called at the flat. Nelly was by that +time on the sofa, with Cicely keeping guard, and Nelly could sometimes +deaden her own consciousness for a little in watching the two. What +were they after? Marsworth's ethical enthusiasms and resentments, the +prophetic temper that was growing upon him in relation to the war, his +impatience of idleness and frivolity and 'slackness,' of all modes of +life that were not pitched in a key worthy of that continuous sacrifice +of England's youngest and noblest that was going on perpetually across +the Channel:--these traits in him made it very easy to understand why, +after years of philandering with Cicely Farrell, he was now, apparently, +alienated from her, and provoked by her. But then, why did he still +pursue her?--why did he still lay claim to the privileges of their old +intimacy, and why did Cicely allow him to do so? + +At last one evening, after a visit from Marsworth which had been one jar +from beginning to end, Cicely had suddenly dropped on a stool, beside +Nelly on the sofa. + +'What an intolerable man!' she said with crimson cheeks. 'Shall I tell +Simpson not to let him in again?' + +Nelly looked her surprise, for as yet there had been no confidence on +this subject between them. And then had come a torrent--Cicely walking +stormily up and down the room, and pouring out her soul. + +The result of which outpouring was that through all the anger and +denunciation, Nelly very plainly perceived that Cicely was a captured +creature, endeavouring to persuade herself that she was still free. She +loved Marsworth--and hated him. She could not make up her mind to give +up for his sake the 'lust of the eye and the pride of life,' as he +clearly would endeavour to make her give them up, the wild bursts of +gaiety and flirting for which she periodically rushed up to town, the +passion for dress, the reckless extravagance with which it pleased her +to shock him whenever they met. And he also--so it seemed to Nelly--was +torn by contradictory feelings. As soon as Cicely was within reach, he +could not keep away from her; and yet when confronted with her, and some +new vagary, invented probably to annoy him, though he might refrain +'even from good words,' his critical mouth and eye betrayed him, and set +the offender in a fury. + +However, it was the quarrels between these two strange lovers, if they +were lovers, that had made a friendship, warm and real--on Cicely's side +even impassioned--between Nelly and Cicely. For Cicely had at last found +someone--not of her own world--to whom she could talk in safety. Yet she +had treated the Sarratts cavalierly to begin with, just because they +were outsiders, and because 'Willy' was making such a fuss with them; +for she was almost as easily jealous in her brother's case as in +Marsworth's. But now Nelly's sad remoteness from ordinary life, her very +social insignificance, and the lack of any links between her and the +great Farrell kinship of relations and friends, made her company, and +her soft, listening ways specially welcome and soothing to Cicely's +excited mood. + +During the latter half of the winter they had corresponded, though +Cicely was the worst of letter-writers; and since Nelly and her sister +had been in Rydal again there had been constant meetings. Nelly's +confidences in return for Cicely's were not many nor frequent. The +effects of grief were to be seen in her aspect and movements, in her +most pathetic smile, in her increased dreaminess, and the inertia +against which she struggled in vain. Since May began, she had for the +first time put on black. Nobody had dared to speak to her about it, so +sharply did the black veil thrown back from the childish brow intensify +the impression that she made, as of something that a touch might break. +But the appearance of the widow's dress seemed to redouble the +tenderness with which every member of the little group of people among +whom she lived treated her--always excepting her sister. Nelly had in +vain protested to Farrell against the 'spoiling' of which she was the +object. 'Spoiled' she was, and it was clear both to Hester and Cicely, +after a time, that though she had the will, she had not the strength to +resist. + +Unless on one point. She had long since stopped all subsidies of money +from Farrell through Bridget, having at last discovered the plain facts +about them. Her letter of thanks to him for all he had done for her was +at once so touching and so determined, that he had not dared since to +cross her will. All that he now found it possible to urge was that the +sisters would allow him to lend them a vacant farmhouse of his, not far +from the Loughrigg Tarn cottage. Nelly had been so far unwilling; it was +clear that her heart clung to the Rydal lodgings. But Hester and Cicely +were both on Farrell's side. The situation of the farm was higher and +more bracing than Rydal; and both Cicely and Farrell cherished the +notion of making it a home for Nelly, until indeed-- + +At this point Farrell generally succeeded in putting a strong rein upon +his thoughts, as part of the promise he had made to Hester. But Cicely, +who was much cooler and more matter of fact than her brother, had long +since looked further ahead. Willy was in love, irrevocably in love with +Nelly Sarratt. That had been plain to her for some time. Before those +days in the flat, when she herself had fallen in love with Nelly, and +before the disappearance of George Sarratt, she had resented Willy's +absurd devotion to a little creature who, for all her beauty, seemed to +Cicely merely an insignificant member of the middle classes, with a +particularly impossible sister. And as to the notion that Mrs. Sarratt +might become at some distant period her brother's wife, Lady Farrell of +Carton, Cicely would have received it with scorn, and fought the +realisation of it tooth and nail. Yet now all the 'Farrell feeling,' the +Farrell pride, in this one instance, at any rate, was gone. Why? Cicely +didn't know. She supposed first because Nelly was such a dear creature, +and next because the war had made such a curious difference in things. +The old lines were being rubbed out. And Cicely, who had been in her day +as exclusively snobbish as any other well-born damsel, felt now that it +would not matter in the least if they remained rubbed out. Persons who +'did things' by land or sea; persons who invented things; persons with +ideas; persons who had the art of making others follow them into the +jaws of death;--these were going to be the aristocracy of the future. +Though the much abused aristocracy of the present hadn't done badly +either! + +So she was only concerned with the emotional aspects of her brother's +state. Was Nelly now convinced of her husband's death?--was that what +her black meant? And if she were convinced, and it were legally possible +for her to marry again and all that--what chance would there be for +Willy? Cicely was much puzzled by Nelly's relation to him. She had seen +many signs, pathetic signs, of a struggle on Nelly's side against +Farrell's influence; especially in the time immediately following her +first return to the north in March. She had done her best then, it +seemed to Cicely, to do without him and to turn to other interests and +occupations than those he set her, and she had failed; partly no doubt +owing to her physical weakness, which had put an end to many +projects,--that of doing week-end munition work for instance--but still +more, surely, to Farrell's own qualities. 'He is such a charmer with +women,' thought Cicely, half smiling; 'that's what it is.' + +By which she meant that he had the very rare gift of tenderness; of +being able to make a woman feel, that as a human being, quite apart from +any question of passion, she interested and touched him. It was just +sympathy, she supposed, the artistic magnetic quality in him, which made +him so attractive to women, and women so attractive to him. He was no +longer a young man in the strict sense; he was a man of forty, with the +prestige of great accomplishment, and a wide knowledge of life. It was +generally supposed that he had done with love-affairs, and women +instinctively felt it safe to allow him a personal freedom towards them, +which from other men would have offended them. He might pat a girl's +shoulder, or lay a playful grasp on a woman's arm, and nobody minded; it +was a sign of his liking, and most people wished to be liked by him. +However he never allowed himself any half-caress of the kind towards +Nelly Sarratt now; and once or twice, in the old days, before Sarratt's +disappearance, Cicely had fancied that she had seen Nelly check rather +sharply one of these demonstrations of Willy's which were so natural to +him, and in general so unconscious and innocent. + +And now he never attempted them. What did that mean? Simply--so Cicely +thought--that he was in love, and dared venture such things no longer. +But all the same there were plenty of devices open to him by which week +after week he surrounded Nelly with a network of care, which implied +that he was always thinking of her; which were in fact a caress, +breathing a subtle and restrained devotion, more appealing than anything +more open. And Cicely seemed to see Nelly yielding--unconsciously; +unconsciously 'spoilt,' and learning to depend on the 'spoiler.' Why did +Hester seem so anxious always about Farrell's influence with Nelly--so +ready to ward him off, if she could? For after all, thought Cicely, +easily, however long it might take for Nelly to recover her hold on +life, and to clear up the legal situation, there could be but one end of +it. Willy meant to marry this little woman; and in the long run no woman +would be able to resist him. + + * * * * * + +The friends set out to stroll homewards through the long May evening, +talking of the hideous Irish news--how incredible amid the young +splendour of the Westmorland May!--or of the progress of the war. + +Meanwhile Bridget Cookson was walking to meet them from the Rydal end of +the Lake. She was accompanied by a Manchester friend, a young doctor, +Howson by name, who had known the sisters before Nelly's marriage. He +had come to Ambleside in charge of a patient that morning, and was going +back on the morrow, and then to France. Bridget had stumbled on him in +Ambleside, and finding he had a free evening had invited him to come +and sup with them. And a vivid recollection of Nelly Cookson as a girl +had induced him to accept. He had been present indeed at the Sarratt +wedding, and could never forget Nelly as a bride, the jessamine wreath +above her dark eyes, and all the exquisite shapeliness of her slight +form, in the white childish dress of fine Indian muslin, which seemed to +him the prettiest bridal garment he had ever seen. And now--poor little +soul! + +'You think she still hopes?' + +Bridget shrugged her shoulders. + +'She says so. But she has put on mourning at last--a few weeks ago.' + +'People do turn up, you know,' said the doctor musing. 'There have been +some wonderful stories.' + +'They don't turn up now,' said Bridget positively--'now that the +enquiries are done properly.' + +'Oh, the Germans are pretty casual--and the hospital returns are far +from complete, I hear. However the probabilities, no doubt, are all on +the side of death.' + +'The War Office are certain of it,' said Bridget with emphasis. 'But +it's no good trying to persuade her. I don't try.' + +'No, why should you? Poor thing! Well, I'm off to X---- next week,' said +the young man. 'I shall keep my eyes open there, in case anything about +him should turn up.' + +Bridget frowned slightly, and her face flushed. + +'Should you know him again, if you saw him?' she asked, abruptly. + +'I think so,' said the doctor with slight hesitation, 'I remember him +very well at the wedding. Tall and slight?--not handsome exactly, but a +good-looking gentlemanly chap? Oh yes, I remember him. But of course, to +be alive now, if by some miraculous chance he were alive, and +not to have let you know--why he must have had some brain +mischief--paralysis--or----' + +'He isn't alive!' said Bridget impatiently. 'The War Office have no +doubts whatever.' + +Howson was rather surprised at the sudden acerbity of her tone. But his +momentary impression was immediately lost in the interest roused in him +by the emergence from the wood, in front, of Nelly and Cicely. He was a +warm-hearted fellow, himself just married, and the approach of the +black-veiled figure, which he had last seen in bridal white, touched him +like an incident in a play. + +Nelly recognised him from a short distance, and went a little pale. + +'Who is that with your sister?' asked Cicely. + +'It is a man we knew in Manchester,--Doctor Howson.' + +'Did you expect him?' + +'Oh no.' After a minute she added--'He was at our wedding. I haven't +seen him since.' + +Cicely was sorry for her. But when the walkers met, Nelly greeted the +young man very quietly. He himself was evidently moved. He held her +hand a little, and gave her a quick, scrutinising look. Then he moved on +beside her, and Cicely, in order to give Nelly the opportunity of +talking to him for which she evidently wished, was forced to carry off +Bridget, and endure her company patiently all the way home. + +When Nelly and the doctor arrived, following close on the two in front, +Cicely cried out that Nelly must go and lie down at once till supper. +She looked indeed a deplorable little wraith; and the doctor, casting, +again, a professional eye on her, backed up Cicely. + +Nelly smiled, resisted, and finally disappeared. + +'You'll have to take care of her,' said Howson to Bridget. 'She looks to +me as if she couldn't stand any strain.' + +'Well, she's not going to have any. This place is quiet enough! She's +been talking of munition-work, but of course we didn't let her.' + +Cicely took the young man aside and expounded her brother's plan of the +farm on the western side of Loughrigg. Howson asked questions about its +aspect, and general comfort, giving his approval in the end. + +'Oh, she'll pull through,' he said kindly, 'but she must go slow. This +kind of loss is harder to bear--physically--than death straight out. +I've promised her'--he turned to Bridget--'to make all the enquiries I +can. She asked me that at once.' + +After supper, just as Howson was departing, Farrell appeared, having +driven himself over through the long May evening, ostensibly to take +Cicely home, but really for the joy of an hour in Nelly's company. + +He sat beside her in the garden, after Howson's departure, reading to +her, by the lingering light, the poems of a great friend of his who had +been killed at Gallipoli. Nelly was knitting, but her needles were often +laid upon her knee, while she listened with all her mind, and sometimes +with tears in her eyes, that were hidden by the softly dropping dusk. +She said little, but what she did say came now from a greatly +intensified inner life, and a sharpened intelligence; while all the +time, the charm that belonged to her physical self, her voice, her +movements, was at work on Farrell, so that he felt his hour with her a +delight after his hard day's work. And she too rested in his presence, +and his friendship. It was not possible now for her to rebuff him, to +refuse his care. She had tried, tried honestly, as Cicely saw, to live +independently--to 'endure hardness.' And the attempt had broken down. +The strange, protesting feeling, too, that she was doing some wrong to +George by accepting it was passing away. She was George's, she would +always be his, to her dying day; but to live without being loved, to +tear herself from those who wished to love her--for that she had proved +too weak. She knew it, and was not unconscious of a certain moral +defeat; as she looked out upon all the strenuous and splendid things +that women were doing in the war. + + * * * * * + +Farrell and Cicely sped homeward through a night that was all but day. +Cicely scarcely spoke; she was thinking of Marsworth. Farrell had still +in his veins the sweetness of Nelly's presence. But there were other +thoughts too in his mind, the natural thoughts of an Englishman at war. +Once, over their heads, through the luminous northern sky, there passed +an aeroplane flying south-west high above the fells. Was it coming from +the North Sea, from the neighbourhood of that invincible Fleet, on which +all hung, by which all was sustained? He thought of the great ships, and +the men commanding them, as greyhounds straining in the leash. What +touch of fate would let them loose at last? + +The Carton hospital was now full of men fresh from the front. The +casualties were endless. A thousand a night often along the French +front--and yet no real advance. The far-flung battle was practically at +a stand-still. And beyond, the chaos in the Balkans, the Serbian +debacle! No--the world was full of lamentation, mourning and woe; and +who could tell how Armageddon would turn? His quick mind travelled +through all the alternative possibilities ahead, on fire for his +country. But always, after each digression through the problems of the +war, thought came back to the cottage at Rydal, and Nelly on the lawn, +her white throat emerging from the thin black dress, her hands clasped +on her lap, her eyes turned to him as he read. + +And all the time it was _just_ conceivable that Sarratt might still be +discovered. At that thought, the summer night darkened. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +In the summer of 1916, a dark and miserable June, all chilly showers and +lowering clouds, followed on the short-lived joys of May. But all +through it, still more through the early weeks of July, the spiritual +heaven for English hearts was brightening. In June, two months before +she was expected to move, Russia flung herself on the Eastern front of +the enemy. Brussiloff's victorious advance drove great wedges into the +German line, and the effect on that marvellous six months' battle, which +we foolishly call the Siege of Verdun, was soon to be seen. Hard pressed +they were, those heroes of Verdun!--how hard pressed no one in England +knew outside the War Office and the Cabinet, till the worst was over, +and the Crown Prince, 'with his dead and his shame,' had recoiled in +sullen defeat from the prey that need fear him no more. + +Then on the first of July, the British army, after a bombardment the +like of which had never yet been seen in war, leapt from its trenches on +the Somme front, and England held her breath while her new Armies proved +of what stuff they were made. In those great days 'there were no +stragglers--none!' said an eye-witness in amazement. The incredible +became everywhere the common and the achieved. Life was laid down as at +a festival. 'From your happy son'--wrote a boy, as a heading to his last +letter on this earth. + +And by the end of July the sun was ablaze again on the English fields +and harvests. Days of amazing beauty followed each other amid the +Westmorland fells; with nights of moonlight on sleeping lakes, and +murmuring becks; or nights of starlit dark, with that mysterious glow in +the north-west which in the northern valleys so often links the evening +with the dawn. + +How often through these nights Nelly Sarratt lay awake, in her new white +room in Mountain Ash Farm!--the broad low window beside her open to the +night, to that 'Venus's Looking Glass' of Loughrigg Tarn below her, and +to the great heights beyond, now dissolving under the moon-magic, now +rosy with dawn, and now wreathed in the floating cloud which crept in +light and silver along the purple of the crags. To have been lifted to +this height above valley and stream, had raised and strengthened her, +soul and body, as Farrell and Hester had hoped. Her soul, perhaps, +rather than her body; for she was still the frailest of creatures, +without visible ill, and yet awakening in every quick-eyed spectator the +same misgiving as in the Manchester doctor. But she was calmer, less +apparently absorbed in her own grief; though only, perhaps, the more +accessible to the world misery of the war. In these restless nights, +her remarkable visualising power, which had only thriven, it seemed, +upon the flagging of youth and health, carried her through a series of +waking dreams, almost always concerned with the war. Under the stimulus +of Farrell's intelligence, she had become a close student of the war. +She read much, and what she read, his living contact with men and +affairs--with that endless stream of wounded in particular, which passed +through the Carton hospital--and his graphic talk illumined for her. +Then in the night arose the train of visions; the trenches--always the +trenches; those hideous broken woods of the Somme front, where the +blasted soil has sucked the best life-blood of England; those +labyrinthine diggings and delvings in a tortured earth, made for the +Huntings of Death--'Death that lays man at his length'--for panting +pursuit, and breathless flight, and the last crashing horror of the +bomb, in some hell-darkness at the end of all:--these haunted her. Or +she saw visions of men swinging from peak to peak above fathomless +depths of ice and snow on the Italian front; climbing precipices where +the foot holds by miracle, and where not only men but guns must go; or +vanishing, whole lines of them, awfully forgotten in the winter snows, +to reappear a frozen and ghastly host, with the melting of the spring. + +And always, mingled with everything, in the tense night hours--that +slender khaki figure, tearing the leaf from his sketch-book, leaping +over the parados,--falling--in the No Man's Land. But, by day, the +obsession of it now often left her. + +It was impossible not to enjoy her new home. Farrell had taken an old +Westmorland farm, with its white-washed porch, its small-paned windows +outlined in white on the grey walls, its low raftered rooms, and with a +few washes of colour--pure blue, white, daffodil yellow--had made all +bright within, to match the bright spaces of air and light without. +There was some Westmorland oak, some low chairs, a sofa and a piano from +the old Manchester house, some etchings and drawings, hung on the plain +walls by Farrell himself, with the most fastidious care; and a few--a +very few things--from his own best stores, which Hester allowed him to +'house' with Nelly from time to time--picture, or pot, or tapestry. She +played watch-dog steadily, not resented by Farrell, and unsuspected by +Nelly. Her one aim was that the stream of Nelly's frail life should not +be muddied by any vile gossip; and she achieved it. The few neighbours +who had made acquaintance with 'little Mrs. Sarratt' had, all of them +been tacitly, nay eagerly willing, to take their cue from Hester. To be +vouched for by Hester Martin, the 'wise woman' and saint of a +country-side, was enough. It was understood that the poor little widow +had been commended to the care of William Farrell and his sister, by the +young husband whose gallant death was officially presumed by the War +Office. Of course, Mrs. Sarratt, poor child, believed that he was still +alive--that was so natural! But that hope would die down in time. And +then--anything might happen! + +Meanwhile, elderly husbands--the sole male inhabitants left in the +gentry houses of the district--who possessed any legal knowledge, +informed their wives that no one could legally presume the death of a +vanished husband, under seven years, unless indeed they happen to have a +Scotch domicile, in which case two years was enough. _Seven +years_!--preposterous!--in time of war, said the wives. To which the +husbands would easily reply that, in such cases as Mrs. Sarratt's, the +law indeed might be 'an ass,' but there were ways round it. Mrs. Sarratt +might re-marry, and no one could object, or would object. Only--if +Sarratt did rise from the dead, the second marriage would be _ipso +facto_ null and void. But as Sarratt was clearly dead, what did that +matter? + +So that the situation, though an observed one--for how could the Farrell +comings and goings, the Farrell courtesies and benefactions, possibly be +hid?--was watched only by friendly and discreet eyes, thanks always to +Hester. Most people liked William Farrell; even that stricter sect, who +before the war had regarded him as a pleasure loving dilettante, and had +been often scandalised by his careless levity in the matter of his +duties as a landlord and county magnate. 'Bill Farrell' had never indeed +evicted or dealt hardly with any mortal tenant. He had merely neglected +and ignored them; had cared not a brass farthing about the rates which +he or they, paid--why should he indeed, when he was so abominably rich +from other sources than land?--nothing about improving their cows, or +sheep or pigs; nothing about 'intensive culture,' or jam or poultry, or +any of the other fads with which the persons who don't farm plague the +persons who do; while the very mention of a public meeting, or any sort +of public duty, put him to instant flight. Yet even the faddists met him +with pleasure, and parted from him with regret. He took himself 'so +jolly lightly'; you couldn't expect him to take other people seriously. +Meanwhile, his genial cheery manner made him a general favourite, and +his splendid presence, combined with his possessions and his descent, +was universally accepted as a kind of Cumberland asset, to which other +counties could hardly lay claim. If he wanted the little widow, why +certainly, let him have her! It was magnificent what he had done for his +hospital; when nobody before the war had thought him capable of a stroke +of practical work. Real good fellow, Farrell! Let him go in and win. His +devotion, and poor Nelly's beauty, only infused a welcome local element +of romance into the ever-darkening scene of war. + + * * * * * + +The first anniversary of Sarratt's disappearance was over. Nelly had +gone through it quite alone. Bridget was in London, and Nelly had said +to Cicely--'Don't come for a few days--nor Sir William--please! I +shall be all right.' + +They obeyed her, and she spent her few days partly on the fells, and +partly in endless knitting and sewing for a war-workroom recently +started in her immediate neighbourhood. The emotion to which she +surrendered herself would soon reduce her to a dull vacancy; and then +she would sit passive, not forcing herself to think, alone in the old +raftered room, or in the bit of garden outside, with its phloxes and +golden rods; her small fingers working endlessly--till the wave of +feeling and memory returned upon her. Those few days were a kind of +'retreat,' during which she lived absorbed in the recollections of her +short, married life, and, above all, in which she tried piteously and +bravely to make clear to herself what she believed; what sort of faith +was in her for the present and the future. It often seemed to her that +during the year since George's death, her mind had been wrenched and +hammered into another shape. It had grown so much older, she scarcely +knew it herself. Doubts she had never known before had come to her; but +also, intermittently, a much keener faith. Oh, yes, she believed in God. +She must; not only because George had believed in Him, but also because +she, her very self, had been conscious, again and again, in the night +hours, or on the mountains, of ineffable upliftings and communings, of +flashes through the veil of things. And so there must be another world; +because the God she guessed at thus, with sudden adoring insight, could +not have made her George, only to destroy him; only to give her to him +for a month, and then strike him from her for ever. The books she learnt +to know through Farrell, belonging to that central modern literature, +which is so wholly sceptical that the 'great argument' itself has almost +lost interest for those who are producing it, often bewildered her, but +did not really affect her. Religion--a vague, but deeply-felt +religion--soothed and sheltered her. But she did not want to talk about +it. + +After these days were over, she emerged conscious of some radical +change. She seemed to have been walking with George 'on the other side,' +and to have left him there--for a while. She now really believed him +dead, and that she had got to live her life without him. This first full +and sincere admission of her loss tranquillised her. All the more reason +now that she should turn to the dear friendships that life still held, +should live in and for them, and follow where they led, through the +years before her. Farrell, Cicely, Hester--they stood between her +weakness--oh how conscious, how scornfully conscious, she was of +it!--and sheer desolation. Cicely, 'Willy,'--for somehow she and he had +slipped almost without knowing it into Christian names--had become to +her as brother and sister. And Hester too--so strong!--so kind!--was +part of her life; severe sometimes, but bracing. Nelly was conscious, +indeed, occasionally, that something in Hester disapproved something in +her. 'But it would be all right,' she thought, wearily, 'if only I were +stronger.' Did she mean physically or morally? The girl's thought did +not distinguish. + +'I believe you want me "hatched over again and hatched different"!' she +said one evening to Hester, as she laid her volume of 'Adam Bede' aside. + +'Do I ever say so?' + +'No--but--if you were me--you wouldn't stop here moping!' said Nelly, +with sudden passion. 'You'd strike out--do something!' + +'With these hands?' said Hester, raising one of them, and looking at it +pitifully. 'My dear--does Bridget feed you properly?' + +'I don't know. I never think about it. She settles it.' + +'Why do you let her settle it?' + +'She will!' cried Nelly, sitting upright in her chair, her eyes bright +and cheeks flushing, as though something in Hester's words accused her. +'I couldn't stop her!' + +'Well, but when she's away?' + +'Then Mrs. Rowe settles it,' said Nelly, half laughing. 'I never +enquire. What does it matter?' + +She put down her knitting, and her wide, sad eyes followed the clouds as +they covered the purple breast of the Langdales, which rose in +threatening, thunder light, beyond the steely tarn in front. Hester +watched her anxiously. How lovely was the brown head, with its short +curls enclosing the delicate oval of the face! But Nelly's lack of grip +on life, of any personal demand, of any healthy natural egotism, whether +towards Bridget, or anybody else, was very disquieting to Hester. In +view of the situation which the older woman saw steadily approaching, +how welcome would have been some signs of a greater fighting strength in +the girl's nature! + + * * * * * + +But Nelly had made two friends since the migration to the farm with whom +at any rate she laughed; and that, as Hester admitted, was something. + +One was a neighbouring farmer, an old man, with splendid eyes, under +dark bushy brows, fine ascetic features, grizzled hair, and a habit of +carrying a scythe over his shoulder which gave him the look of 'Old +Father Time,' out for the mowing of men. The other was the little son of +a neighbouring parson, an urchin of eight, who had succumbed to an +innocent passion for the pretty lady at the farm. + +One radiant October afternoon, Nelly carried out a chair and some +sketching things into the garden. But the scheme Farrell had suggested +to her, of making a profession of her drawing, had not come to much. +Whether it was the dying down of hope, and therewith of physical energy, +or whether she had been brought up sharp against the limits of her small +and graceful talent, and comparing herself with Farrell, thought it no +use to go on--in any case, she had lately given it up, except as an +amusement. But there are days when the humblest artist feels the +creative stir; and on this particular afternoon there were colours and +lights abroad on the fells, now dyed red with withering fern, and +overtopped by sunny cloud, that could not be resisted. She put away the +splints she was covering, and spread out her easel. + +And presently, through every bruised and tired sense, as she worked and +worked, the 'Eternal Fountain of that Heavenly Beauty' distilled His +constant balm. She worked on, soothed and happy. + +In a few minutes there was a sound at the gate. A child looked in--black +tumbled hair, dark eyes, a plain but most engaging countenance. + +'I'm tomin in,' he announced, and without any more ado, came in. Nelly +held out a hand and kissed him. + +'You must be very good.' + +'I is good,' said the child, radiantly. + +Nelly spread a rug for him to lie on, and provided him with a piece of +paper, some coloured chalks and a piece of mill board. He turned over on +his front and plunged into drawing-- + +Silence--till Nelly asked-- + +'What are you drawing, Tommy?' + +'Haggans and Hoons,' said a dreamy voice, the voice of one absorbed. + +'I forget'--said Nelly gravely--'which are the good ones?' + +'The Hoons are good. The Haggans are awfully wicked!' said the child, +slashing away at his drawing with bold vindictive strokes. + +'Are you drawing a Haggan, Tommy?' + +'Yes.' + +He held up a monster, half griffin, half crocodile, for her to see, and +she heartily admired it. + +'Where do the Haggans live, Tommy?' + +'In Jupe,' said the child, again drawing busily. + +'You mean Jupiter?' + +'I _don't_!' said Tommy reproachfully, 'I said Jupe, and I mean Jupe. +Perhaps'--he conceded, courteously--'I may have got the idea from that +other place. But it's quite different. You do believe it's quite +different--don't you?' + +'Certainly,' said Nelly. + +'I'm glad of that--because--well, because I can't be friends with people +that say it isn't different. You do see that, don't you?' + +Nelly assured him she perfectly understood, and then Tommy rolled over +on his back, and staring at the sky, began to talk in mysterious tones +of 'Jupe,' and the beings that lived in it, Haggans, and Hoons, lions +and bears, and white mice. His voice grew dreamier and dreamier. Nelly +thought he was asleep, and she suddenly found herself looking at the +little figure on the grass with a passionate hunger. If such a living +creature belonged to her--to call her its very own--to cling to her with +its dear chubby hands! + +She bent forward, her eyes wet, above the unconscious Tommy. But a step +on the road startled her, and raising her head she saw 'Old Father +Time,' with scythe on shoulder, leaning on the little gate which led +from the strip of garden to the road, and looking at her with the +expression which implied a sarcastic view of things in general, and +especially of 'gentlefolk.' But he was favourably inclined to Mrs. +Sarratt, and when Nelly invited him in, he obeyed her, and grounding his +scythe, as though it had been a gun, he stood leaning upon it, +indulgently listening while she congratulated him on a strange incident +which, as she knew from Hester, had lately occurred to him. + +A fortnight before, the old man had received a letter from the captain +of his son's company in France sympathetically announcing to him the +death in hospital of his eldest son, from severe wounds received in a +raid, and assuring him he might feel complete confidence 'that +everything that could be done for your poor boy has been done.' + +The news had brought woe to the cottage where the old man and his wife +lived alone, since the fledging of their sturdy brood, under a spur of +Loughrigg. The wife, being now a feeble body, had taken to her bed under +the shock of grief; the old man had gone to his work as usual, 'nobbut a +bit queerer in his wits,' according to the farmer who employed him. Then +after three days came a hurried letter of apology from the captain, and +a letter from the chaplain, to say there had been a most deplorable +mistake, and 'your son, I am glad to say, was only slightly wounded, +and is doing well!' + +Under so much contradictory emotion, old Backhouse's balance had wavered +a good deal. He received Nelly's remarks with a furtive smile, as though +he were only waiting for her to have done, and when they ceased, he drew +a letter slowly from his pocket. + +'D'ye see that, Mum?' + +Nelly nodded. + +'I'se juist gotten it from t' Post Office. They woant gie ye noothin' +till it's forced oot on 'em. But I goa regular, an to-day owd +Jacob--'at's him as keps t' Post Office--handed it ower. It's from +Donald, sure enoof.' + +He held it up triumphantly. Nelly's heart leapt--and sank. How often in +the first months of her grief had she seen--in visions--that blessed +symbolic letter held up by some ministering hand!--only to fall from the +ecstasy of the dream into blacker depths of pain. + +'Oh, Mr. Backhouse, I'm so glad!' was all she could find to say. But her +sweet trembling face spoke for her. After a pause, she added--'Does he +write with his own hand?' + +'You mun see for yorsel'.' He held it out to her. She looked at it +mystified. + +'But it's not opened!' + +'I hadna juist me spectacles,' said Father Time, cautiously. 'Mebbee +yo'll read it to me.' + +'But it's to his mother!' cried Nelly. 'I can't open your wife's +letter!' + +'You needn't trooble aboot that. You read it, Mum. There'll be noothin' +in it.' + +He made her read it. There was nothing in it. It was just a nice letter +from a good boy, saying that he had been knocked over in 'a bit of a +scrap,' but was nearly all right, and hoped his father and mother were +well, 'as it leaves me at present.' But when it was done, Father Time +took off his hat, bent his grey head, and solemnly thanked his God, in +broad Westmorland. Nelly's eyes swam, as she too bowed the head, +thinking of another who would never come back; and Tommy, thumb in +mouth, leant against her, listening attentively. + +At the end of the thanksgiving however, Backhouse raised his head +briskly. + +'Not that I iver believed that foolish yoong mon as wrote me that Dick +wor dead,' he said, contemptuously. 'Bit it's as weel to git things +clear.' + +Nelly heartily agreed, adding-- + +'I may be going to London next week, Mr. Backhouse. You say your son +will be in the London Hospital. Shall I go and see him?' + +Backhouse looked at her cautiously. + +'I doan't know, Mum. His moother will be goin', likely.' + +'Oh, I don't want to intrude, Mr. Backhouse. But if she doesn't go?' + +'Well, Mum; I will say you've a pleasant coontenance, though yo're not +juist sich a thrivin' body as a'd like to see yer. But theer's mony +people as du more harm nor good by goin' to sit wi' sick foak.' + +Nelly meekly admitted it; and then she suggested that she might be the +bearer of anything Mrs. Backhouse would like to send her son--clothes, +for instance? The old man thawed rapidly, and the three, Nelly, Tommy, +and Father Time, were soon sincerely enjoying each other's society, when +a woman in a grey tweed costume, and black sailor hat, arrived at the +top of a little hill in the road outside the garden, from which the farm +and its surroundings could be seen. + +At the sight of the group in front of the farm, she came to an abrupt +pause, and hidden from them by a projecting corner of wall she surveyed +the scene--Nelly, with Tommy on her knee, and the old labourer who had +just shouldered his scythe again, and was about to go on his way. + +It was Bridget Cookson, who had been to Kendal for the day, and had +walked over from Grasmere, where the char-a-banc, alias the 'Yellow +Peril,' had deposited her. She had passed the Post Office on her way, +and had brought thence a letter which she held in her hand. Her face was +pale and excited. She stood thinking; her eyes on Nelly, her lips moving +as though she were rehearsing some speech or argument. + +Then when she had watched old Backkhouse make his farewell, and turn +towards the gate, she hastily opened a black silk bag hanging from her +wrist, and thrust the letter into it. + +After which she walked on, meeting the old man in the lane, and run into +by Tommy, who, head foremost, was rushing home to shew his glorious +Haggan to his 'mummy.' + +Nelly's face at sight of her sister stiffened insensibly. + +'Aren't you very tired, Bridget? Have you walked all the way? Yes, you +_do_ look tired! Have you had tea?' + +'Yes, at Windermere.' + +Bridget cleared the chair on which Nelly had placed her paint-box, and +sat down. She was silent a little and then said abruptly-- + +'It's a horrid bore, I shall have to go to London again.' + +'Again?' Nelly's look of surprise was natural. Bridget had returned from +another long stay in the Bloomsbury boarding-house early in October, and +it was now only the middle of the month. But Bridget's doings were +always a great mystery to Nelly. She was translating something from the +Spanish--that was all Nelly knew--and also, that when an offer had been +made to her through a friend, of some translating work for the Foreign +Office, she had angrily refused it. She would not, she said, be a slave +to any public office. + +'Won't it be awfully expensive?' said Nelly after a pause, as Bridget +did not answer. The younger sister was putting her painting things +away, and making ready to go in. For though the day had been wonderfully +warm for October, the sun had just set over Bowfell, and the air had +grown suddenly chilly. + +'Well, I can't help it,' said Bridget, rather roughly. 'I shall have to +go.' + +Something in her voice made Nelly look at her. + +'I say you _are_ tired! Come in and lie down a little. That walk from +Grasmere's too much for you!' + +Bridget submitted with most unusual docility. + +The sisters entered the house together. + +'I'll go upstairs for a little,' said Bridget. 'I shall be all right by +supper.' Then, as she slowly mounted the stairs, a rather gaunt and +dragged figure in her dress of grey alpaca, she turned to say-- + +'I met Sir William on the road just now. He passed me in the car, and +waved his hand. He called out something--I couldn't hear it.' + +'Perhaps to say he would come to supper,' said Nelly, her face +brightening. 'I'll go and see what there is.' + +Bridget went upstairs. Her small raftered room was invaded by the last +stormy light of the autumn evening. The open casement window admitted a +cold wind. Bridget shut it, with a shiver. But instead of lying down, +she took a chair by the window, absently removed her hat, and sat there +thinking. The coppery light from the west illumined her face with its +strong discontented lines, and her hands, which were large, but white +and shapely--a source indeed of personal pride to their owner. + +Presently, in the midst of her reverie, she heard a step outside, and +saw Sir William Farrell approaching the gate. Nelly, wrapped in a white +shawl, was still strolling about the garden, and Bridget watched their +meeting--Nelly's soft and smiling welcome, and Farrell's eagerness, his +evident joy in finding her alone. + +'And she just wilfully blinds herself!' thought Bridget +contemptuously--'talks about his being a brother to her, and that sort +of nonsense. He's in love with her!--of course he's in love with her. +And as for Nelly--she's not in love with him. But she's getting used to +him; she depends on him. When he's not there she misses him. She's +awfully glad to see him when he comes. Perhaps, it'll take a month or +two. I give it a month or two--perhaps six months--perhaps a year. And +then she'll marry him--and--' + +Here her thoughts became rather more vague and confused. They were +compounded of a fierce impatience with the war, and of certain urgent +wishes and ambitions, which had taken possession of a strong and +unscrupulous character. She wanted to travel. She wanted to see the +world, and not to be bothered by having to think of money. Contact with +very rich people, like the Farrells, and the constant spectacle of what +an added range and power is given to the human will by money, had +turned the dull discontent of her youth into an active fever of desire. +She had no illusions about herself at all. She was already a plain and +unattractive old maid. Nobody would want to marry her; and she did not +want to marry anybody. But she wanted to _do_ things and to _see_ +things, when the hateful war was over. She was full of curiosities about +life and the world, that were rather masculine than feminine. Her +education, though it was still patchy and shallow, had been advancing +since Nelly's marriage, and her intelligence was hungry. The +satisfaction of it seemed too to promise her the only real pleasures to +which she could look forward in life. On the wall of her bedroom were +hanging photographs of Rome, Athens, the East. She dreamt of a wandering +existence; she felt that she would be insatiable of movement, of +experience, if the chance were given her. + +But how could one travel, or buy books, or make new acquaintances, +without money?--something more at any rate than the pittance on which +she and Nelly subsisted. + +What was it Sir William was supposed to have, by way of income?--thirty +thousand a year? Well, he wouldn't always be spending it on his +hospital, and War income tax, and all the other horrible burdens of the +time. If Nelly married him, she would have an ample margin to play with; +and to do Nelly justice, she was always open-handed, always ready to +give away. She would hand over her own small portion to her sister, and +add something to it. With six or seven hundred a year, Bridget would be +mistress of her own fate, and of the future. Often, lately, in waking +moments of the night, she had felt a sudden glow of exultation, thinking +what she could do with such a sum. The world seemed to open out on all +sides--offering her new excitements, new paths to tread in. She wanted +no companion, to hamper her with differing tastes and wishes. She would +be quite sufficient to herself. + +The garden outside grew dark. She heard Farrell say 'It's too cold for +you--you must come in,' and she watched Nelly enter the house in front +of him--turning her head back to answer something he said to her. Even +through the dusk Bridget was conscious of her sister's beauty. She did +not envy it in the least. It was Nelly's capital--Nelly's opportunity. +Let her use it for them both. Bridget would be well satisfied to gather +up the crumbs from her rich sister's table. + +Then from the dream, she came back with chill and desperation--to +reality. The letter in her pocket--the journey before her--she pondered +alternatives. What was she to do in this case--or in that? Everything +might be at stake--everything was at stake--her life and Nelly's-- + +The voices from the parlour below came up to her. She heard the +crackling of a newly lighted fire--Farrell reading aloud--and Nelly's +gentle laughter. She pictured the scene; the two on either side of the +fire, with Nelly's mourning, her plain widow's dress, as the symbol--in +Nelly's eyes--of what divided her from Farrell, or any other suitor, and +made it possible to be his friend without fear. Bridget knew that Nelly +so regarded it. But that of course was just Nelly's foolish way of +looking at things. It was only a question of time. + +And meanwhile the widow's dress had quite other meanings for Bridget. +She pondered long in the dark, till the supper bell rang. + +At supper, her silence embarrassed and infected her companions, and +Farrell, finding it impossible to get another tete-a-tete with Nelly, +took his leave early. He must be up almost with the dawn so as to get to +Carton by nine o'clock. + + * * * * * + +Out of a stormy heaven the moon was breaking as he walked back to his +cottage. The solitude of the mountain ways, the freshness of the +rain-washed air, and the sweetness of his hour with Nelly, after the +bustle of the week, the arrivals and departures, the endless business, +of a great hospital:--he was conscious of them all, intensely conscious, +as parts of a single, delightful whole to which he had looked forward +for days. And yet he was restless and far from happy. He wandered about +the mountain roads for a long time--watching the moon as it rose above +the sharp steep of Loughrigg and sent long streamers of light down the +Elterwater valley, and up the great knees of the Pikes. The owls hooted +in the oak-woods, and the sound of water--the Brathay rushing over the +Skelwith rocks, and all the little becks in fell and field, near and +far--murmured through the night air, and made earth-music to the fells. +Farrell had much of the poet in him; and the mountains and their life +were dear to him. But he was rapidly passing into the stage when a man +over-mastered by his personal desires is no longer open to the soothing +of nature. He had recently had a long and confidential talk with his +lawyer at Carlisle, who was also his friend, and had informed himself +minutely about the state of the law. Seven years!--unless, of her own +free will, she took the infinitesimal risk of marriage before the period +was up. + +But he despaired of her doing any such thing. He recognised fully that +the intimacy she allowed him, her sweet openness and confidingness, were +all conditioned by what she regarded as the fixed points in her life; by +her widowhood, legal and spiritual, and by her tacit reliance on his +recognition of the fact that she was set apart, bound as other widows +were not bound, protected by the very mystery of Sarratt's fate, from +any thought of re-marriage. + +And he!--all the time the strength of a man's maturest passion was +mounting in his veins. And with it a foreboding--coming he knew not +whence--like the sudden shadow that, as he looked, blotted out the +moonlight on the shining bends and loops of the Brathay, where it +wandered through the Elterwater fields. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Bridget Cookson slowly signed her name to the letter she had been +writing in the drawing-room of the boarding-house where she was +accustomed to stay during her visits to town. Then she read the letter +through-- + +'I can't get back till the middle or end of next week at least. There's +been a great deal to do, of one kind or another. And I'm going down to +Woking to-morrow to spend the week-end with a girl I met here who's +knocked up in munition-work. Don't expect me till you see me. But I +daresay I shan't be later than Friday.' + +Bridget Cookson had never yet arrived at telling falsehoods for the mere +pleasure of it. On the whole she preferred not to tell them. But she was +well aware that her letter to Nelly contained a good many, both +expressed and implied. + +Well, that couldn't be helped. She put up her letter, and then proceeded +to look carefully through the contents of her handbag. Yes, her passport +was all right, and her purse with its supply of notes. Also the letter +that she was to present to the Base Commandant, or the Red Cross +representative at the port of landing. The latter had been left open for +her to read. It was signed 'Ernest Howson, M.D.,' and asked that Miss +Bridget Cookson might be sent forward to No. 102, General Hospital, X +Camp, France, as quickly as possible. + +There was also another letter addressed to herself in the same +handwriting. She opened it and glanced through it-- + +'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I think I have made everything as easy for you as I +can on this side. You won't have any difficulty. I'm awfully glad you're +coming. I myself am much puzzled, and don't know what to think. Anyway I +am quite clear that my right course was to communicate with +you--_first._ Everything will depend on what you say.' + +The following afternoon, Bridget found herself, with a large party of +V.A.D.'s, and other persons connected with the Red Cross, on board a +Channel steamer. The day was grey and cold, and Bridget having tied on +her life-belt, and wrapped herself in her thickest cloak, found a seat +in the shelter of the deck cabins whence the choppy sea, the destroyer +hovering round them, and presently the coast of France were visible. A +secret excitement filled her. What was she going to see? and what was +she going to do? All round her too were the suggestions of war, +commonplace and familiar by now to half the nation, but not to Bridget +who had done her best to forget the war. The steamer deck was crowded +with officers returning from leave who were walking up and down, all of +them in life-belts, chatting and smoking. All eyes were watchful of the +sea, and the destroyer; and the latest submarine gossip passed from +mouth to mouth. The V.A.D.'s with a few army nurses, kept each other +company on the stern deck. The mild sea gave no one any excuse for +discomfort, and the pleasant-faced rosy girls in their becoming +uniforms, laughed and gossiped with each other, though not without a +good many side glances towards the khaki figures pacing the deck, many +of them specimens of English youth at its best. + +Bridget however took little notice of them. She was becoming more and +more absorbed in her own problem. She had not in truth made up her mind +how to deal with it, and she admitted reluctantly that she would have to +be guided by circumstance. Midway across, when the French coast and its +lighthouses were well in view, she took out the same letter which she +had received two days before at the Grasmere post-office, and again read +it through. + +'X Camp, 102, General Hospital. + + +'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I am writing to _you_, in the first instance +instead of to Mrs. Sarratt, because I have a vivid remembrance of what +seemed to me your sister's frail physical state, when I saw you last May +at Rydal. I hope she is much stronger, but I don't want to risk what, if +it ended in disappointment, might only be a terrible strain upon her to +no purpose--so I am preparing the way by writing to you. + +'The fact is I want you to come over to France--at once. Can you get +away, without alarming your sister, or letting her, really, know +anything about it? It is the merest, barest chance, but I think there is +just a chance, that a man who is now in hospital here _may_ be poor +George Sarratt--only don't build upon it yet, _please_. The case was +sent on here from one of the hospitals near the Belgian frontier about a +month ago, in order that a famous nerve-specialist, who has joined us +here for a time, might give his opinion on it. It is a most +extraordinary story. I understand from the surgeon who wrote to our +Commandant, that one night, about three months ago, two men, in German +uniforms, were observed from the British front-line trench, creeping +over the No Man's Land lying between the lines at a point somewhere east +of Dixmude. One man, who threw up his hands, was dragging the other, who +seemed wounded. It was thought that they were deserters, and a couple of +men were sent out to bring them in. Just as they were being helped into +our trench, however, one of them was hit by an enemy sniper and mortally +wounded. Then it was discovered that they were not Germans at all. The +man who had been hit said a few incoherent things about his wife and +children in the Walloon patois as he lay in the trench, and trying to +point to his companion, uttered the one word "Anglais"--that, everyone +swears to--and died. No papers were found on either of them, and when +the other man was questioned, he merely shook his head, with a vacant +look. Various tests were applied to him, but it was soon clear, both +that he was dumb--and deaf--from nerve shock, probably--and that he was +in a terrible physical state. He had been severely wounded--apparently +many months before--in the shoulder and thigh. The wounds had evidently +been shockingly neglected, and were still septic. The surgeon who +examined him thought that what with exposure, lack of food, and his +injuries, it was hardly probable he would live more than a few weeks. +However, he has lingered till now, and the specialist I spoke of has +just seen him. + +'As to identification marks there were none. But you'll hear all about +that when you come. All I can say is that, as soon as they got the man +into hospital, the nurses and surgeons became convinced that he _was_ +English, and that in addition to his wounds, it was a case of severe +shell-shock--acute and long-continued neurasthenia properly +speaking,--loss of memory, and all the rest of it. + +'Of course the chances of this poor fellow being George Sarratt are +infinitesimal--I must warn you as to that. How account for the interval +between September 1915 and June 1916--for his dress, his companion--for +their getting through the German lines? + +'However, directly I set eyes on this man, which was the week after I +arrived here, I began to feel puzzled about him. He reminded me of +someone--but of whom I couldn't remember. Then one afternoon it suddenly +flashed upon me--and for the moment I felt almost sure that I was +looking at George Sarratt. Then, of course, I began to doubt again. I +have tried--under the advice of the specialist I spoke of--all kinds of +devices for getting into some kind of communication with him. Sometimes +the veil between him and those about him seems to thin a little, and one +makes attempts--hypnotism, suggestion, and so forth. But so far, quite +in vain. He has, however, one peculiarity which I may mention. His hands +are long and rather powerful. But the little fingers are both +crooked--markedly so. I wonder if you ever noticed Sarratt's hands? +However, I won't write more now. You will understand, I am sure, that I +shouldn't urge you to come, unless I thought it seriously worth your +while. On the other hand, I cannot bear to excite hopes which may--which +probably will--come to nothing. All I can feel certain of is that it is +my duty to write, and I expect that you will feel that it is your duty +to come. + +'I send you the address of a man at the War Office--high up in the +R.A.M.C.--to whom I have already written. He will, I am sure, do all he +can to help you get out quickly. Whoever he is, the poor fellow here is +very ill.' + + * * * * * + +The steamer glided up the dock of the French harbour. The dusk had +fallen, but Bridget was conscious of a misty town dimly sprinkled with +lights, and crowned with a domed church; of chalk downs, white and +ghostly, to right and left; and close by, of quays crowded with +soldiers, motors, and officials. Carrying her small suit-case, she +emerged upon the quay, and almost immediately was accosted by the +official of the Red Cross who had been told off to look after her. + +'Let me carry your suit-case. There is a motor here, which will take you +to X----. There will be two nurses going with you.' + +Up the long hill leading southwards out of the town, sped the motor, +stopping once to show its pass to the sentries--khaki and grey, on +either side of the road, and so on into the open country, where an +autumn mist lay over the uplands, beneath a faintly starlit sky. Soon it +was quite dark. Bridget listened vaguely to the half-whispered talk of +the nurses opposite, who were young probationers going back to work +after a holiday, full of spirits and merry gossip about 'Matron' and +'Sister,' and their favourite surgeons. Bridget was quite silent. +Everything was strange and dreamlike. Yet she was sharply conscious that +she was nearing--perhaps--some great experience, some act--some +decision--which she would have to make for herself, with no one to +advise her. Well, she had never been a great hand at asking advice. +People must decide things for themselves. + +She wondered whether they would let her see 'the man' that same night. +Hardly--unless he were worse--in danger. Otherwise, they would be sure +to think it better for her to see him first in daylight. She too would +be glad to have a night's rest before the interview. She had a curiously +bruised and battered feeling, as of someone who had been going through +an evil experience. + +Pale stretches of what seemed like water to the right, and across it a +lighthouse. And now to the left, a sudden spectacle of lines of light in +a great semicircle radiating up the side of a hill. + +The nurses exclaimed-- + +'There's the Camp! Isn't it pretty at night?' + +The officer sitting in front beside the driver turned to ask-- + +'Where shall I put you down?' + +'Number----' said both the maidens in concert. The elderly major in +khaki--who in peace-time was the leading doctor of a Shropshire country +town--could not help smiling at the two lassies, and their bright looks. + +'You don't seem particularly sorry to come back!' he said. + +'Oh, we're tired of holidays,' said the taller of the two, with a laugh. +'People at home think they're _so_ busy, and---' + +'You think they're doing nothing?' + +'Well, it don't seem much, when you've been out here!' said the girl +more gravely--'and when you know what there is to do!' + +'Aye, aye,' said the man in front. 'We could do with hundreds more of +your sort. Hope you preached to your friends.' + +'We did!' said both, each with the same young steady voice. + +'Here we are--Stop, please.' + +For the motor had turned aside to climb the hill into the semicircle. On +all sides now were rows of low buildings--hospital huts--hospital +marquees--stores--canteens. Close to the motor, as it came to a +stand-still, the door of a great marquee stood open, and Bridget could +see within, a lighted hospital ward, with rows of beds, men in scarlet +bed-jackets, sitting or lying on them--flowers--nurses moving about. The +scene was like some bright and delicate illumination on the dark. + +'I shall have to take you a bit further on,' said the major to Bridget, +as the two young nurses waved farewell. 'We've got a room in the hotel +for you. And Dr. Howson will come for you in the morning. He thought +that would be more satisfactory both for you and the patient than that +you should go to the hospital to-night.' + +Bridget acquiesced, with a strong sense of relief. And presently the +camp and its lights were all left behind again, and the motor was +rushing on, first through a dark town, and then through woods--pine +woods--as far as the faint remaining light enabled her to see, till dim +shapes of houses, and scattered lamps began again to appear, and the +motor drew up. + +'Well, you'll find a bed here, and some food,' said the major as he +handed her out. 'Can't promise much. It's a funny little place, but +they don't look after you badly.' + +They entered one of the small seaside hotels of the cheaper sort which +abound in French watering-places, where the walls of the tiny rooms seem +to be made of brown paper, and everyone is living in their neighbour's +pocket. But a pleasant young woman came forward to take Bridget's bag. + +'Mademoiselle Cook--Cookson?' she said interrogatively. 'I have a letter +for Mademoiselle. Du medecin,' she added, addressing the major. + +'Ah?' That gentleman put down Bridget's bag in the little hall, and +stood attentive. Bridget opened the letter--a very few words--and read +it with an exclamation. + + 'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I am awfully sorry not + to meet you to-night, and at the hospital to-morrow. + But I am sent for to Bailleul. My only brother + has been terribly wounded--they think fatally--in a + bombing attack last night. I am going up at once--there + is no help for it. One of my colleagues, Dr. + Vincent, will take you to the hospital and will tell me + your opinion. In haste.--Yours sincerely, + + + 'ERNEST HOWSON.' + +'H'm, a great pity!' said the major, as she handed the note to him. +'Howson has taken a tremendous interest in the case. But Vincent is next +best. Not the same thing perhaps--but still--Of course the whole +medical staff here has been interested in it. It has some extraordinary +features. You I think have had a brother-in-law "missing" for some +time?' + +He had piloted her into the bare _salle a manger_, where two young +officers, with a party of newly-arrived V.A.D.'s were having dinner, and +where through an open window came in the dull sound of waves breaking on +a sandy shore. + +'My brother-in-law has been missing since the battle of Loos,' said +Bridget--'more than a year. We none of us believe that he can be alive. +But of course when Dr. Howson wrote to me, I came at once.' + +'Has he a wife?' + +'Yes, but she is very delicate. That is why Dr. Howson wrote to me. If +there were any chance--of course we must send for her. But I shall +know--I shall know at once.' + +'I suppose you will--yes, I suppose you will,' mused the major. 'Though +of course a man is terribly aged by such an experience. He's +English--that we're certain of. He often seems to understand--half +understand--a written phrase or word in English. And he is certainly a +man of refinement. All his personal ways--all that is instinctive and +automatic--the subliminal consciousness, so to speak--seems to be that +of a gentleman. But it is impossible to get any response out of him, for +anything connected with the war. And yet we doubt whether there is any +actual brain lesion. So far it seems to be severe functional +disturbance--which is neurasthenia--aggravated by his wounds and general +state. But the condition is getting worse steadily. It is very sad, and +very touching. However, you will get it all out of Vincent. You must +have some dinner first. I wish you a good-night.' + +And the good man, so stout and broad-shouldered that he seemed to be +bursting out of his khaki, hurried away. The lady seemed to him +curiously hard and silent--'a forbidding sort of party.' But then he +himself was a person of sentiment, expressing all the expected feelings +in the right places, and with perfect sincerity. + +Bridget took her modest dinner, and then sat by the window, looking out +over a lonely expanse of sand, towards a moonlit sea. To right and left +were patches of pine wood, and odd little seaside villas, with fantastic +turrets and balconies. A few figures passed--nurses in white head +dresses, and men in khaki. Bridget understood after talking to the +little _patronne_, that the name of the place was Paris a la Mer, that +there was a famous golf course near, and that large building, with a +painted front to the right, was once the Casino, and now a hospital for +officers. + +It was all like a stage scene, the sea, the queer little houses, the +moonlight, the passing figures. Only the lights were so few and dim, and +there was no music. + +'Miss Cookson?' + +Bridget turned, to see a tall young surgeon in khaki, tired, pale and +dusty, who looked at her with a frown of worry, a man evidently +over-driven, and with hardly any mind to give to this extra task that +had been put upon him. + +'I'm sorry to be late--but we've had an awful rush to-day,' he said, as +he perfunctorily shook hands. 'There was some big fighting on the Somme, +the night before last, and the casualty trains have been coming in all +day. I'm only able to get away for five minutes. + +'Well now, Miss Cookson'--he sat down opposite her, and tried to get his +thoughts into business shape--'first let me tell you it's a great +misfortune for you that Howson's had to go off. I know something about +the case--but not nearly as much as he knows. First of all--how old was +your brother-in-law?' + +'About twenty-seven--I don't know precisely.' + +'H'm. Well of course this man looks much older than that--but the +question is what's he been through? Was Lieutenant Sarratt fair or +dark?' + +'Rather dark. He had brown hair.' + +'Eyes?' + +'I can't remember precisely,' said Bridget, after a moment. 'I don't +notice the colour of people's eyes. But I'm sure they were some kind of +brown.' + +'This man's are a greenish grey. Can you recollect anything peculiar +about Lieutenant Sarratt's hands?' + +Again Bridget paused for a second or two, and then said--'I can't +remember anything at all peculiar about them.' + +The surgeon looked at her closely, and was struck with the wooden +irresponsiveness of the face, which was however rather handsome, he +thought, than otherwise. No doubt, she was anxious to speak +deliberately, when so much might depend on her evidence and her opinion. +But he had never seen any countenance more difficult to read. + +'Perhaps you're not a close observer of such things?' + +'No, I don't think I am.' + +'H'm--that's rather a pity. A great deal may turn on them, in this +case.' + +Then the face before him woke up a little. + +'But I am quite sure I should know my brother-in-law again, under any +circumstances,' said Bridget, with emphasis. + +'Ah, don't be so sure! Privation and illness change people terribly. And +this poor fellow has _suffered_!'--he shrugged his shoulders +expressively. 'Well, you will see him to-morrow. There is of course no +external evidence to help us whatever. The unlucky accident that the +Englishman's companion--who was clearly a Belgian peasant, disguised--of +that there is no doubt--was shot through the lungs at the very moment +that the two men reached the British line, has wiped out all possible +means of identification--unless, of course, the man himself can be +recognised by someone who knew him. We have had at least a dozen +parties--relations of "missing" men--much more recent cases--over here +already--to no purpose. There is really no clue, unless'--the speaker +rose with a tired smile--'unless you can supply one, when you see him. +But I am sorry about the fingers. That has always seemed to me a +possible clue. To-morrow then, at eleven?' + +Bridget interrupted. + +'It is surely most unlikely that my brother-in-law could have survived +all this time? If he had been a prisoner, we should have heard of him, +long ago. Where could he have been?' + +The young man shrugged his shoulders. + +'There have been a few cases, you know--of escaped prisoners--evading +capture for a long time--and finally crossing the line. But of course it +_is_ very unlikely--most unlikely. Well, to-morrow?' He bowed and +departed. + +Bridget made her way to her small carpetless room, and sat for long with +a shawl round her at the open window. She could imagine the farm in this +moonlight. It was Saturday. Very likely both Cicely and Sir William were +at the cottage. She seemed to see Nelly, with the white shawl over her +dark head, saying good-night to them at the farm-gate. That meant that +it was all going forward. Some day,--and soon,--Nelly would discover +that Farrell was necessary to her--that she couldn't do without +him--just as she had never been able in practical ways to do without her +sister. No, there was nothing in the way of Nelly's great future, and +the free development of her--Bridget's--own life, but this sudden and +most unwelcome stroke of fate. If she had to send for Nelly--supposing +it really were Sarratt--and then if he died--Nelly might never get over +it. + +It might simply kill her--why not? All the world knew that she was a +weakling. And if it didn't kill her, it would make it infinitely less +likely that she would marry Farrell--in any reasonable time. Nelly was +not like other people. She was all feelings. Actually to see George +die--and in the state that these doctors described--would rack and +torture her. She would never be the same again. The first shock was bad +enough; this might be far worse. Bridget's selfishness, in truth, +counted on the same fact as Farrell's tenderness. 'After all, what +people don't see, they can't feel'--to quite the same degree. But if +Nelly, being Nelly, had seen the piteous thing, she would turn against +Farrell, and think it loyalty to George to send her rich suitor about +his business. Bridget felt that she could exactly foretell the course of +things. A squalid and melancholy veil dropped over the future. Poverty, +struggle, ill-health for Nelly--poverty, and the starving of all natural +desires and ambitions for herself--that was all there was to look +forward to, if the Farrells were alienated, and the marriage thwarted. + +A fierce revolt shook the woman by the window. She sat on there till the +moon dropped into the sea, and everything was still in the little +echoing hotel. And then though she went to bed she could not sleep. + + * * * * * + +After her coffee and roll in the little _salle a manger_, which with its +bare boards and little rags of curtains was only meant for summer +guests, and was now, on this first of November, nippingly cold, Bridget +wandered a little on the shore watching the white dust of the foam as a +chill west wind skimmed it from the incoming waves, then packed her bag, +and waited restlessly for Dr. Vincent. She understood she was to be +allowed, if she wished, two visits in the hospital, so as to give her an +opportunity of watching the patient she was going to see, without undue +hurry, and would then be motored back to D---- in time for the night +boat. She was bracing herself therefore to an experience the details of +which she only dimly foresaw, but which must in any case be excessively +disagreeable. What exactly she was going to do or say, she didn't know. +How could she, till the new fact was before her? + +Punctually on the stroke of eleven, a motor arrived in charge of an army +driver, and Bridget set out. They were to pick up Vincent in the town of +X---- itself and run on to the Camp. The sun was out by this time, and +all the seaside village, with its gimcrack hotels and villas flung +pell-mell upon the sand, and among the pines, was sparkling under it. So +were the withered woods, where the dead leaves were flying before the +wind, the old town where Napoleon gathered his legions for the attack on +England, and the wide sandy slopes beyond it, where the pine woods had +perished to make room for the Camp. The car stopped presently on the +edge of the town. To the left spread a river estuary, with a spit of +land beyond, and lighthouses upon it, sharp against a pale blue sky. +Every shade of pale yellow, of lilac and pearl, sparkled in the +distance, in the scudding water, the fast flying westerly clouds, and +the sandy inlets among the still surviving pines. + +'You're punctuality itself,' said a man emerging from a building before +which a sentry was pacing--'Now we shall be there directly.' + +The building, so Bridget was informed, housed the Headquarters of the +Base, and from it the business of the great Camp, whether on its +military or its hospital side, was mainly carried on. And as they drove +towards the Camp her companion, with the natural pride of the Englishman +in his job, told the marvellous tale of the two preceding years--how the +vast hospital city had been reared, and organised--the military camp +too--the convalescent camp--the transports--and the feeding. + +'The Boche thought they were the only organisers in the world!--We've +taught them better!' he said, with a laugh in his pleasant eyes, the +whole man of him, so weary the night before, now fresh and alert in the +morning sunshine. + +Bridget listened with an unwilling attention. This bit of the war seen +close at hand was beginning to suggest to her some new vast world, of +which she was wholly ignorant, where she was the merest cypher on +sufferance. The thought was disagreeable to her irritable pride, and she +thrust it aside. She had other things to consider. + +They drew up outside one of the general hospitals lined along the Camp +road. + +'You'll find him in a special ward,' said Vincent, as he handed her out. +'But I'll take you first to Sister.' + +They entered the first hut, and made their way past various small rooms, +amid busy people going to and fro. Bridget was aware of the usual +hospital smell of mingled anesthetic and antiseptic, and presently, her +companion laid a hasty hand on her arm and drew her to one side. A +surgeon passed with a nurse. They entered a room on the right, and left +the door of it a little ajar. + +'The operating theatre,' said Vincent, with a gesture that shewed her +where to look; and through the open door Bridget saw a white room +beyond, an operating table and a man, a splendid boy of nineteen or +twenty lying on it, with doctors and nurses standing round. The youth's +features shewed waxen against the white walls, and white overalls of the +nurses. + +'This way,' said Vincent. 'Sister, this is Miss Cookson. You +remember--Dr. Howson sent for her.' + +A shrewd-faced woman of forty in nurse's dress looked closely at +Bridget. + +'We shall be very glad indeed, Miss Cookson, if you can throw any light +on this case. It is one of the saddest we have here. Will you follow me, +please?' + +Bridget found herself passing through the main ward of the hut, rows of +beds on either hand. She seemed to be morbidly conscious of scores of +eyes upon her, and was glad when she found herself in the passage beyond +the ward. + +The Sister opened a door into a tiny sitting-room, and offered Bridget a +chair. + +'They have warned you that this poor fellow is deaf and dumb?' + +'Yes--I had heard that.' + +'And his brain is very clouded. He tries to do all we tell him--it is +touching to see him. But his real intelligence seems to be far away. +Then there are the wounds. Did Dr. Howson tell you about them?' + +'He said there were bad wounds.' + +The Sister threw up her hands. + +'How he ever managed to do the walking he must have done to get through +the lines is a mystery to us all. What he must have endured! The wounds +must have been dressed to begin with in a German field-hospital. Then on +his way to Germany, before the wounds had properly healed--that at least +is our theory--somewhere near the Belgian frontier he must have made his +escape. What happened then, of course, during the winter and spring +nobody knows; but when he reached our lines, the wounds were both in a +septic state. There have been two operations for gangrene since he has +been here. I don't think he'll stand another.' + +Bridget lifted her eyes and looked intently at the speaker-- + +'You think he's very ill?' + +'Very ill,' said the Sister emphatically. 'If you can identify him, you +must send for his wife at once--_at once_! Lieutenant Sarratt was, I +think, married?' + +'Yes,' said Bridget. 'Now may I see him?' + +The Sister looked at her visitor curiously. She was both puzzled and +repelled by Bridget's manner, by its lack of spring and cordiality, its +dull suggestion of something reserved and held back. But perhaps the +woman was only shy; and oppressed by the responsibility of what she had +come to do. The Sister was a very human person, and took tolerant views +of everything that was not German. She rose, saying gently-- + +'If I may advise you, take time to watch him, before you form or express +any opinion. We won't hurry you.' + +Bridget followed her guide a few steps along the corridor. The Sister +opened a door, and stood aside to let Bridget pass in. Then she came in +herself, and beckoned to a young probationer who was rolling bandages on +the further side of the only bed the room contained. The girl quietly +put down her work and went out. + +There was a man lying in the bed, and Bridget looked at him. Her heart +beat so fast, that she felt for a moment sick and suffocated. The Sister +bent over him tenderly, and put back the hair, the grey hair which had +fallen over his forehead. At the touch, his eyes opened, and as he saw +the Sister's face he very faintly smiled. Bridget suddenly put out a +hand and steadied herself by a chair standing beside the bed. The Sister +however saw nothing but the face on the pillow, and the smile. The smile +was so rare!--it was the one sufficient reward for all his nurses did +for him. + +'Now I'll leave you,' said the Sister, forbearing to ask any further +questions. 'Won't you sit down there? If you want anyone, you have only +to touch that bell.' + +She disappeared. And Bridget sat down, her eyes on the figure in the +bed, and on the hand outside the sheet. Her own hands were trembling, as +they lay crossed upon her lap. + +How grey and thin the hair was--how ghostly the face--what suffering in +every line! + +Bridget drew closer. + +'George!' she whispered. + +No answer. The man's eyes were closed again. He seemed to be asleep. +Bridget looked at his hand--intently. Then she touched it. + +The heavy blue-veined eyelids rose again, as though at the only summons +the brain understood. Bridget bent forward. What colour there had been +in it before ebbed from her sallow face; her lips grew white. The eyes +of the man in the bed met hers--first mechanically--without any sign of +consciousness; then--was it imagination?--or was there a sudden change +of expression--a quick trouble--a flickering of the lids? Bridget shook +through every limb. If he recognised her, if the sight of her brought +memory back--even a gleam of it--there was an end of everything, of +course. She had only to go to the nearest telegraph office and send for +Nelly. + +But the momentary stimulus passed as she looked--the eyes grew vacant +again--the lids fell. Bridget drew a long breath. She raised herself and +moved her chair farther away. + +Time passed. The window behind her was open, and the sun came in, and +stole over the bed. The sick man scarcely moved at all. There was +complete silence, except for the tread of persons in the corridor +outside, and certain distant sounds of musketry and bomb practice from +the military camp half a mile away. + +He was dying--the man in the bed. That was plain. Bridget knew the look +of mortal illness. It couldn't be long. + +She sat there nearly an hour--thinking. At the end of that time she rang +the hand-bell near her. + +Sister Agnes appeared at once. Bridget had risen and confronted her. + +'Well,' said the Sister eagerly. But the visitor's irresponsive look +quenched her hopes at once. + +'I see nothing at all that reminds me of my brother-in-law,' said +Bridget with emphasis. 'I am very sorry--but I cannot identify this +person as George Sarratt.' + +The Sister's face fell. + +'You don't even see the general likeness Dr. Howson thought he saw?' + +Bridget turned back with her towards the bed. + +'I see what Dr. Howson meant,' she said, slowly. 'But there is no real +likeness. My brother-in-law's face was much longer. His mouth was quite +different. And his eyes were brown.' + +'Did you see the eyes again? Did he look at you?' + +'Yes.' + +'And there was no sign of recognition?' + +'No.' + +'Poor dear fellow!' said the Sister, stooping over him again. There was +a profound and yearning pity in the gesture. 'I wish we could have kept +him more alive--more awake--for you, to see. But there had to be morphia +this morning. He had a dreadful night. Are you _quite_ sure? Wouldn't +you like to come back this afternoon, and watch him again? Sometimes a +second time--Oh, and what of the hands?--did you notice them?' And +suddenly remembering Dr. Howson's words, the Sister pointed to the +long, bloodless fingers lying on the sheet, and to the marked deformity +in each little finger. + +'Yet--but George's hands were not peculiar in any way.' Bridget's voice, +as she spoke, seemed to herself to come from far away; as though it were +that of another person speaking under compulsion. + +'I'm sorry--I'm sorry!'--the Sister repeated. 'It's so sad for him to be +dying here--all alone--nobody knowing even who he is--when one thinks +how somebody must be grieving and longing for him.' + +'Have you no other enquiries?' said Bridget, abruptly, turning to pick +up some gloves she had laid down. + +'Oh yes--we have had other visitors--and I believe there is a gentleman +coming to-morrow. But nothing that sounded so promising as your visit. +You won't come again?' + +'It would be no use,' said the even, determined voice. 'I will write to +Dr. Howson from London. And I do hope'--for the first time, the kindly +nurse perceived some agitation in this impressive stranger--'I do hope +that nobody will write to my sister--to Mrs. Sarratt. She is very +delicate. Excitement and disappointment might just kill her. That's why +I came.' + +'And that of course is why Dr. Howson wrote to you first. Oh I am sure +he will take every care. He'll be very, very sorry! You'll write to him? +And of course so shall I.' + +The news that the lady from England had failed to identify the nameless +patient to whom doctor and nurses had been for weeks giving their most +devoted care spread rapidly, and Bridget before she left the hospital +had to run the gauntlet of a good many enquiries, at the hands of the +various hospital chiefs. She produced on all those who questioned her +the impression of an unattractive, hard, intelligent woman whose +judgment could probably be trusted. + +'Glad she isn't my sister-in-law!' thought Vincent as he turned back +from handing her into the motor which was to take her to the port. But +he did not doubt her verdict, and was only sorry for 'old Howson,' who +had been so sure that something would come of her visit. + +The motor took Bridget rapidly back to D----, where she would be in good +time for an afternoon boat. She got some food, automatically, at a hotel +near the quay, and automatically made her way to the boat when the time +came. A dull sense of something irrevocable,--something +horrible,--overshadowed her. But the 'will to conquer' in her was as +iron; and, as in the Prussian conscience, left no room for pity or +remorse. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +A psychologist would have found much to interest him in Bridget +Cookson's mental state during the days which followed on her journey to +France. The immediate result of that journey was an acute sharpening of +intelligence, accompanied by a steady, automatic repression of all those +elements of character or mind which might have interfered with its free +working. Bridget understood perfectly that she had committed a crime, +and at first she had not been able to protect herself against the normal +reaction of horror or fear. But the reaction passed very quickly. +Conscience gave up the ghost. Selfish will, and keen wits held the +field; and Bridget ceased to be more than occasionally uncomfortable, +though a certain amount of anxiety was of course inevitable. + +She did not certainly want to be found out, either by Nelly or the +Farrells; and she took elaborate steps to prevent it. She wrote first a +long letter to Howson giving her reasons for refusing to believe in his +tentative identification of the man at X---- as George Sarratt, and +begging him not to write to her sister. 'That would be indeed _cruel_. +She can just get along now, and every month she gets a little stronger. +But her heart, which was weakened by the influenza last year, would +never stand the shock of a fearful disappointment. Please let her be. I +take all the responsibility. That man is not George Sarratt. I hope you +may soon discover who he is.' + +Step No. 2 was to go, on the very morning after she arrived in London, +to the Enquiry Office in A---- Street. Particulars of the case in France +had that morning reached the office, and Bridget was but just in time to +stop a letter from Miss Eustace to Nelly. When she pointed out that she +had been over to France on purpose to see for herself, that there was no +doubt at all in her own mind, and that it would only torment a frail +invalid to no purpose to open up the question, the letter was of course +countermanded. Who could possibly dispute a sister's advice in such a +case? And who could attribute the advice to anything else than sisterly +affection! + +Meanwhile among the mountains an unusually early winter was beginning to +set in. The weather grew bitterly cold, and already a powdering of snow +was on the fell-tops. For all that, Nelly could never drink deep enough +of the November beauty, as it shone upon the fells through some bright +frosty days. The oaks were still laden with leaf; the fern was still +scarlet on the slopes; and the ghylls and waterfalls leapt foaming white +down their ancestral courses. And in this austerer world, Nelly's +delicate personality, as though braced by the touch of winter, seemed to +move more lightly and buoyantly. She was more vividly interested in +things and persons--in her drawing, her books, her endless knitting and +sewing for the wounded. She was puzzled that Bridget stayed so long in +town, but alack! she could do very well without Bridget. Some portion of +the savour of life, of that infinity of small pleasures which each day +may bring for the simple and the pure in heart, was again hers. +Insensibly the great wound was healing. The dragging anguish of the +first year assailed her now but rarely. + +One morning she opened the windows in the little sitting-room, to let in +the sunshine, and the great spectacle of the Pikes wrapped in majestic +shadow, purple-black, with the higher peaks ranged in a hierarchy of +light behind them. + +She leant far out of the window, breathing in the tonic smell of the oak +leaves on the grass beneath her, and the freshness of the mountain air. +Then, as she turned back to the white-walled raftered room with its +bright fire, she was seized with the pleasantness of this place which +was now her home. Insensibly it had captured her heart, and her senses. +And who was it--what contriving brain--had designed and built it up, out +of the rough and primitive dwelling it had once been? + +Of course, William Farrell had done it all! There was scarcely a piece +of furniture, a picture, a book, that was not of his choosing and +placing. Little by little, they had been gathered round her. His hand +had touched and chosen them, every one. He took far more pleasure and +interest in the details of these few rooms than in any of his own +houses and costly possessions. + +Suddenly--as she sat there on the window-ledge, considering the room, +her back to the mountains--one of those explosions of consciousness +rushed upon Nelly, which, however surprising the crash, are really long +prepared and inevitable. + +What did that room really _mean_--the artistic and subtle simplicity of +it?--the books, the flowers, and the few priceless things, drawings or +terra-cottas, brought from the cottage, and changed every few weeks by +Farrell himself, who would arrive with them under his arm, or in his +pockets, and take them back in like manner. + +The colour flooded into Nelly's face. She dropped it in her hands with a +low cry. An agony seized her. She loathed herself. + +Then springing up passionately she began to pace the narrow floor, her +slender arms and hands locked behind her. + +Sir William was coming that very evening. So was Cicely, who was to be +her own guest at the farm, while Marsworth, so she heard, was to have +the spare room at the cottage. + +She had not seen William Farrell for some time--for what counted, at +least, as some time in their relation; not since that evening before +Bridget went away--more than a fortnight. But it was borne in upon her +that she had heard from him practically every day. There, in the drawer +of her writing-table, lay the packet of his letters. She looked for +them now morning after morning, and if they failed her, the day seemed +blank. Anybody might have read them--or her replies. None the less +Farrell's letters were the outpouring of a man's heart and mind to the +one person with whom he felt himself entirely at ease. The endless +problems and happenings of the great hospital to which he was devoting +more and more energy, and more and more wealth; the incidents and +persons that struck him; his loves and hates among the staff or the +patients; the humour or the pity of the daily spectacle;--it was all +there in his letters, told in a rich careless English that stuck to the +memory. Nelly was accustomed to read and re-read them. + +Yes, and she was proud to receive them!--proud that he thought so much +of her opinion and cared so much for her sympathy. But _why_ did he +write to her, so constantly, so intimately?--what was the real motive of +it all? + +At last, Nelly asked herself the question. It was fatal of course. So +long as no question is asked of Lohengrin--who, what, and whence he +is--the spell holds, the story moves. But examine it, as we all know, +and the vision fades, the gleam is gone. + +She passed rapidly, and almost with terror, into a misery of remorse. +What had she been doing with this kindest and best of men? Allowing him +to suppose that after a little while she would be quite ready to forget +George and be his wife? That threw her into a fit of helpless crying. +The tears ran down her cheeks as she moved to and fro. Her +George!--falling out there, in that ghastly No Man's Land, dying out +there, alone, with no one to help, and quiet now in his unknown grave. +And after little more than a year she was to forget him, and be rich and +happy with a new lover--a new husband? + +She seemed to herself the basest of women. Base towards George--and +towards Farrell--both! What could she do?--what must she do? Oh, she +must go away--she must break it all off! And looking despairingly round +the room, which only an hour before had seemed to her so dear and +familiar, she tried to imagine herself in exile from all it represented, +cut off from Farrell and from Cicely, left only to her own weak self. + +But she must--she _must_! That very evening she must speak to Willy--she +must have it out. Of course he would urge her to stay there--he would +promise to go away--and leave her alone. But that would be too mean, too +ungrateful. She couldn't banish him from this spot that he loved, where +he snatched his few hours--always now growing fewer--of rest and +pleasure. No, she must just depart. Without telling him? Without +warning? Her will failed her. + +She got out her table, with its knitting, and its bundles of prepared +work which had arrived that morning from the workroom, and began upon +one of them mechanically. But she was more and more weighed down by a +sense of catastrophe--which was also a sense of passionate shame. Why, +she was George's wife, still!--his _wife_--for who could _know_, for +certain, that he was dead? That was what the law meant. _Seven years_! + + * * * * * + +She spent the day in a wretched confusion of thoughts and plans. A +telegram from Cicely arrived about midday--'Can't get to you till +to-morrow. Willy and Marsworth coming to-day--Marsworth not till late.' + +So any hour might bring Farrell. She sat desperately waiting for him. +Meanwhile there was a post-card from Bridget saying that she too would +probably arrive that evening. + +That seemed the last straw. Bridget would merely think her a fool; +Bridget would certainly quarrel with her. Why, it had been Bridget's +constant object to promote the intimacy with the Farrells, to throw her +and Sir William together. Nelly remembered her own revolts and refusals. +They seemed now so long ago! In those days it was jealousy for George +that filled her, the fierce resolve to let no one so much as dream that +she could ever forget him, and to allow no one to give money to George's +wife, for whom George himself had provided, and should still provide. +And at an earlier stage--after George left her, and before he died--she +could see herself, as she looked back, keeping Sir William firmly at a +distance, resenting those friendly caressing ways, which others +accepted--which she too now accepted, so meekly, so abominably! She +thought of his weekly comings and goings, as they were now; how, in +greeting and good-bye, he would hold her hands, both of them, in his; +how once or twice he had raised them to his lips. And it had begun to +seem quite natural to her, wretch that she was; because he pitied her, +because he was so good to her--and so much older, nearly twenty years. +He was her brother and dear friend, and she the little sister whom he +cherished, who sympathised with all he did, and would listen as long as +he pleased, while he talked of everything that filled his mind--the war +news, his work, his books, his companions; or would sit by, watching +breathlessly while his skilful hand put down some broad 'note' of colour +or light, generally on a page of her own sketch-book. + +Ah, but it must end--it must end! And she must tell him to-night. + +Then she fell to thinking of how it was she had been so blind for so +long; and was now in this tumult of change. One moment, and she was +still the Nelly of yesterday, cheerful, patient, comforted by the love +of her friends; and the next, she had become this poor, helpless thing, +struggling with her conscience, her guilty conscience, and her sorrow. +How had it happened? There was something uncanny, miraculous in it. But +anyway, there, in a flash it stood revealed--her treason to George--her +unkindness to Willy. + +For she would never marry him--never! She simply felt herself an +unfaithful wife--a disloyal friend. + + * * * * * + +The November day passed on, cloudless, to its red setting over the +Coniston fells. Wetherlam stood black against the barred scarlet of the +west, and all the valleys lay veiled in a blue and purple mist, +traversed by rays of light, wherever a break in the mountain wall let +the sunset through. The beautiful winter twilight had just begun, when +Nelly heard the step she waited for outside. + +She did not run to the window to greet him as she generally did. She sat +still, by the fire, her knitting on her knee. Her black dress was very +black, with the plainest white ruffle at her throat. She looked very +small and pitiful. Perhaps she meant to look it! The weak in dealing +with the strong have always that instinctive resource. + +'How jolly to find you alone!' said Farrell joyously, as he entered the +room. 'I thought Miss Bridget was due.' He put down the books with which +he had come laden and approached her with outstretched hands. 'I +say!--you don't look well!' His look, suddenly sobered, examined her. + +'Oh yes, I am quite well. Bridget comes to-night.' + +She hurriedly withdrew herself, and he sat down opposite her, holding +some chilly fingers to the blaze, surveying her all the time. + +'Why doesn't Bridget stop here and look after you?' + +Nelly laughed. 'Because she has much more interesting things to do!' + +'That's most unlikely! Have you been alone all the week?' + +'Yes, but quite busy, thank you--and quite well.' 'You don't look it,' +he repeated gravely, after a moment. + +'So busy, and so well,' she insisted, 'that even I can't find excuses +for idling here much longer.' + +He gave a perceptible start. 'What does that mean? What are you going to +do?' + +'I don't know. But I think'--she eyed him uneasily--'hospital work of +some kind.' + +He shook his head. + +'I wouldn't take you in my hospital! You'd knock up in a week.' + +'You're quite, quite mistaken,' she said, eagerly. 'I can wash dishes +and plates now as well as anyone. Hester told me the other day of a +small hospital managed by a friend of hers--where they want a +parlour-maid. I could do that capitally.' + +'Where is it?' he asked, after a moment. + +She hesitated, and at last said evasively-- + +'In Surrey somewhere--I think.' + +He took up the tongs, and deliberately put the fire together, in +silence. At last he said-- + +'I thought you promised Cicely and me that you wouldn't attempt +anything of the kind?' + +'Not till I was fit.' Her voice trembled a little. 'But now I am--quite +fit.' + +'You should let your friends judge that for you,' he said gently. + +'No, no, I can't. I must judge for myself.' She spoke with growing +agitation. 'You have been so awfully, awfully good to me!--and now'--she +bent forward and laid a pleading hand on his arm--'now you must be good +to me in another way I you must let me go. I brood here too much. I want +not to think--I am so tired of myself. Let me go and think about other +people--drudge a little--and slave a little! Let me--it will do me +good!' + +His face altered perceptibly during this appeal. When he first came in, +fresh from the frosty air, his fair hair and beard flaming in the +firelight, his eyes all pleasure, he had seemed the embodiment of +whatever is lusty and vigorous in life--an overwhelming presence in the +little cottage room. But he had many subtler aspects. And as he listened +to her, the Viking, the demi-god, disappeared. + +'And what about those--to whom it will do harm?' + +'Oh no, it won't do harm--to anybody,' she faltered. + +'It will do the greatest harm!'--he laid a sharp emphasis on the words. +'Isn't it worth while to be just the joy and inspiration of those who +can work hard--so that they go away from you, renewed like eagles? +Cicely and I come--we tell you our troubles--our worries--our failures, +and our successes. We couldn't tell them to anyone else. But you sit +here; and you're so gentle and so wise--you see things so clearly, just +because you're not in the crowd, not in the rough and tumble--that we go +away--bucked up!--and run our shows the better for our hours with you. +Why must women be always bustling and hurrying, and all of them doing +the same things? If you only knew the blessing it is to find someone +with a little leisure just to feel, and think!--just to listen to what +one has to say. You know I am always bursting with things to say!' + +He looked at her with a laugh. His colour had risen. + +'I arrive here--often--full of grievances and wrath against +everybody--hating the Government--hating the War Office--hating our own +staff, or somebody on it--entirely and absolutely persuaded that the +country is going to the dogs, and that we shall be at Germany's mercy in +six months. Well, there you sit--I don't know how you manage it!--but +somehow it all clears away. I don't want to hang anybody any more--I +think we are going to win--I think our staff are splendid fellows, and +the nurses, angels--(they ain't, though, all the same!)--and it's all +_you_!--just by being you--just by giving me rope enough--letting me +have it all out. And I go away with twice the work in me I had when I +came. And Cicely's the same--and Hester. You play upon us all--just +because'--he hesitated--'because you're so sweet to us all. You raise us +to a higher power; you work through us. Who else will do it if you +desert us?' + +Her lips trembled. + +'I don't want to desert you, but--what right have I to such +comfort--such luxury--when other people are suffering and toiling?' + +He raised his eyebrows. + +'Luxury? This little room? And there you sit sewing and knitting all +day! And I'll be bound you don't eat enough to keep a sparrow!' + +There was silence. She was saying to herself--'Shall I ever be able to +go?--to break with them all?' The thought, the image, of George flashed +again through her mind. But why was it so much fainter, so much less +distinct than it had been an hour ago? Yet she seemed to turn to him, to +beg him piteously to protect her from something vague and undefined. + +Suddenly a low voice spoke-- + +'Nelly!--don't go!' + +She looked up--startled--her childish eyes full of tears. + +He held out his hand, and she could not help it, she yielded her own. + +Farrell's look was full of energy, of determination. He drew nearer to +her, still holding her hand. But he spoke with perfect self-control. + +'Nelly, I won't deceive you! I love you! You are everything to me. It +seems as if I had never been happy--never known what happiness could +possibly mean till I knew you. To come here every week--to see you like +this for these few hours--it changes everything--it sweetens +everything--because you are in my heart--because I have the hope--that +some day----' + +She withdrew her hand and covered her face. + +'Oh, it's my fault--my fault!' she said, incoherently--'how could +I?--how _could_ I?' + +There was silence again. He opened his lips to speak once or twice, but +no words came. One expression succeeded another on his face; his eyes +sparkled. At last he said--'How could you help it? You could not prevent +my loving you.' + +'Yes, I could--I ought----,' she said, vehemently. 'Only I was a fool--I +never realised. That's so like me. I won't face things. And yet'--she +looked at him miserably--'I did beg you to let me live my own +life--didn't I?--not to spoil me--not--not to be so kind to me.' + +He smiled. + +'Yes. But then you see--you were you!' + +She sprang up, looking down upon him, as he sat by the fire. 'That's +just it. If I were another person! But no!--no! I can't be your friend. +I'm not old enough--or clever enough. And I can't ever be anything +else.' + +'Why?' He asked it very quietly, his eyes raised to hers. He could see +the quick beat of her breath under her black dress. + +'Because I'm not my own. I'm not free--you know I'm not. I'm not free +legally--and I'm not free in heart. Oh, if George were to come in at +that door!'--she threw back her head with a passionate gesture--'there +would be nobody else in the world for me--nobody--nobody!' + +He stooped over the fire, fidgeting with it, so that his face was hidden +from her. + +'You know, I think, that if I believed there was the faintest hope of +that, I should never have said a word--of my own feelings. But as it +is--why must you feel bound to break up this--this friendship, which +means so much to us all? What harm is there in it? Time will clear up a +great deal. I'll hold my tongue--I promise you. I won't bother you. I +won't speak of it again--for a year--or more--if you wish. But--don't +forsake us!' + +He looked up with that smile which in Cicely's unbiased opinion gave him +such an unfair advantage over womankind. + +With a little sob, Nelly walked away towards the window, which was still +uncurtained though the night had fallen. Outside there was a starry deep +of sky, above Wetherlam and the northern fells. The great shapes held +the valley in guard; the river windings far below seemed still to keep +the sunset; while here and there shone scattered lights in farms and +cottages, sheltering the old, old life of the dales. + +Insensibly Nelly's passionate agitation began to subside. Had she been +filling her own path with imaginary perils and phantoms? Yet there +echoed in her mind the low-spoken words--'I won't deceive you! I love +you!' And the recollection both frightened and touched her. + +Presently Farrell spoke again, quite in his usual voice. + +'I shall be in despair if you leave me to tackle Cicely alone. She's +been perfectly mad lately. But you can put it all right if you choose.' + +Nelly was startled into turning back towards him. + +'Oh!--how can I?' + +'Tell her she has been behaving abominably, and making a good fellow's +life a burden to him. Scold her! Laugh at her!' + +'What has she been doing?' said Nelly, still standing by the window. + +Farrell launched into a racy and elaborate account--the effort of one +determined, _coute que coute_, to bring the conversation back to an +ordinary key--of Cicely's proceedings, during the ten days since Nelly +had seen her. + +It appeared that Marsworth, after many weeks during which they had heard +nothing of him, had been driven north again to his Carton doctor, by a +return of neuralgic trouble in his wounded arm; and as usual had put up +at the Rectory, where as usual Miss Daisy, the Rector's granddaughter, +had ministered to him like the kind little brick she was. + +'You see, she's altogether too good to be true!' said Farrell. 'And yet +it is true. She looks after her grandfather and the parish. She runs the +Sunday school, and all the big boys are in love with her. She does +V.A.D. work at the hospital. She spends nothing on her dress. She's +probably up at six every morning. And all the time, instead of being +plain, which of course virtue ought to be, she's as pretty as +possible--like a little bird. And Cicely can't abide her. I don't know +whether she's in love with Marsworth. Probably she is. Why not? At any +rate, whenever Marsworth and Cicely fall out, which they do every +day--Cicely has the vile habit--of course you know!--of visiting +Marsworth's sins upon little Daisy Stewart. I understood she was guilty +of some enormity at the Red Cross sale in the village last week. +Marsworth was shocked, and had it out with her. Consequently they +haven't been on speaking terms for days.' + +'What shall we do with them to-morrow?' cried Nelly in alarm, coming to +sit down again by the fire and taking up her knitting. How strange it +was--after that moment of tempestuous emotion--to have fallen back +within a few minutes into this familiar, intimate chat! Her pulse was +still rushing. She knew that something irrevocable had happened, and +that when she was alone, she must face it. And meanwhile here she sat +knitting!--and trying to help him with Cicely as usual! + +'Oh, and to-morrow!'--said Farrell with amusement, 'the fat will indeed +be in the fire.' + +And he revealed the fact that on his way through Grasmere he had fallen +in with the Stewarts. The old man had been suffering from bronchitis, +and the two had come for a few days' change to some cousins at Grasmere. + +'And the old man's a bit of a collector and wants to see the Turners. He +knows Carton by heart. So I had to ask them to come up to-morrow--and +there it is!--Cicely will find them in possession, with Marsworth in +attendance!' + +'Why does she come at all?' said Nelly, wondering. 'She knows Captain +Marsworth will be here. She said so, in her telegram.' + +Farrell shrugged his shoulders. + +'"It taks aw soarts to mak a worrld," as they say up here. But Marsworth +and Cis are queer specimens! I am privately certain he can't do for long +without seeing her. And as for her, I had no sooner arranged that he +should join me here to-night, than she telegraphed to you! Just like +her! I had no idea she thought of coming. Well, I suppose to quarrel +yourself into matrimony is one of the recognised openings!' + +The talk dropped. The joint consciousness behind it was too much for +it. It fell like a withered leaf. + +Farrell got up to go. Nelly too rose, trembling, to her feet. He took +her hand. + +'Don't leave us,' he repeated, softly. 'You are our little saint--you +help us by just living. Don't attempt things too hard for you. You'll +kill yourself, and then----' + +She looked at him mutely, held by the spell of his eyes. + +'Well then,' he finished, abruptly, 'there won't be much left for one +man to live for. Good-night.' + +He was gone, and she was left standing in the firelight, a small, +bewildered creature. + +'What shall I do?' she was saying to herself, 'Oh, what ought I to do?' + +She sank down on the floor, and hid her face against a chair. +Helplessly, she wished that Hester would come!--someone wise and strong +who would tell her what was right. The thought of supplanting George, of +learning to forget him, of letting somebody else take his place in her +heart, was horrible--even monstrous--to her. Yet she did not know how +she would ever find the strength to make Farrell suffer. His devotion +appealed--not to any answering passion in her--there was none--but to an +innate lovingness, that made it a torment to her to refuse to love and +be loved. Her power of dream, of visualisation, shewed him to her alone +and unhappy; when, perhaps, she might still--without harm--have been a +help to him--have shewn him her gratitude. She felt herself wavering and +retreating; seeking, as usual, the easiest path out of her great +dilemma. Must she either be disloyal to her George?--her dead, her +heroic George!--or unkind to this living man, whose unselfish devotion +had stood between her and despair? After all, might it not still go on? +She could protect herself. She was not afraid. + +But she _was_ afraid! She was in truth held by the terror of her own +weakness, and Farrell's strength, as she lay crouching by the fire. + +Outside the wind was rising. Great clouds were coming up from the +south-west. The rain had begun. Soon it was lashing the windows, and +pouring from the eaves of the old farmhouse. + +Nelly went back to her work; and the wind and rain grew wilder as the +hours passed. Just as she was thinking wearily of going to bed, there +were sounds of wheels outside. + +Bridget? so late! Nelly had long since given her up. What a night on +which to face the drive from Windermere! Poor horse!--poor man! + +Yes, it was certainly Bridget! As Nelly half rose, she heard the harsh, +deep voice upon the stairs. A tall figure, heavily cloaked, entered. + +'My dear Bridget--I'd quite given you up!' + +'No need,' said Bridget coolly, as she allowed Nelly to kiss her cheek. +'The afternoon train from Euston was a little late. You can't help that +with all these soldiers about.' + +'Come and sit down by the fire. Have you done all you wanted to do?' + +'Yes.' + +Bridget sat down, after taking off her wet water-proof, and held a +draggled hat to the blaze. Nelly looking at her was struck by the fact +that Bridget's hair had grown very grey, and the lines in her face very +deep. What an extraordinary person Bridget was! What had she been doing +all this time? + +But nothing could be got out of the traveller. She sat by the fire for a +while, and let Nelly get her a tray of food. But she said very little, +except to complain of the weather, and, once, to ask if the Farrells +were at the cottage. + +'Sir William is there, with Captain Marsworth,' said Nelly. 'Cicely +comes here to-morrow.' + +'Does she expect me to give her my room?' said Bridget sharply. + +'Not at all. She likes the little spare-room.' + +'Or pretends to! Has Sir William been here to-day?' + +'Yes, he came round.' + +A few more questions and answers led to silence broken only by the +crackling of the fire. The firelight played on Nelly's cheek and throat, +and on her white languid hands. Presently it caught her wedding-ring, +and Bridget's eye was drawn to the sparkle of the gold. She sat looking +absently at her sister. She was thinking of a tiny room in a hut +hospital--of the bed--and of those eyes that had opened on her. And +there sat Nelly--knowing nothing! + +It was all a horrible anxiety. But it couldn't last long. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +'So you are not at church?' + +The voice was Marsworth's as he stepped inside the flagged passage of +the farm, Nelly having just opened the door to him. + +'It's so far!--in winter,' said Nelly a little guiltily. 'I go to +Grasmere in summer.' + +'Oh! don't apologise--to a heathen like me! I'm only too thankful to +find you alone. Is your sister here?' + +'Yes. But we've made a room for her in one of the outhouses. She works +there.' + +'What at? Is she still learning Spanish?' asked Marsworth, smiling, as +he followed Nelly into the little white drawing-room. + +'I don't know,' said Nelly, after a moment, in a tone of depression. +'Bridget doesn't tell me.' + +The corners of Marsworth's strong mouth shewed amusement. He was not +well acquainted with Bridget Cookson, but as far as his observation +went, she seemed to him a curious specimen of the half-educated +pretentious woman so plentiful in our modern life. In place of +'psychology' and 'old Spanish,' the subjects in which Miss Cookson was +said to be engaged, he would have liked to prescribe for her--and all +her kin--courses of an elementary kind in English history and vulgar +fractions. + +But, for Nelly Sarratt, Marsworth felt the tender and chivalrous respect +that natures like hers exact easily from strong men. To him, as to +Farrell, she was the 'little saint' and peacemaker, with her lovingness, +her sympathy, her lack of all the normal vanities and alloys that beset +the pretty woman. That she was not a strong character, that she was +easily influenced and guided by those who touched her affections, he +saw. But that kind of weakness in a woman--when that woman also +possesses the mysterious something, half physical, half spiritual, which +gives delight--is never unpleasing to such men as Marsworth, nor indeed +to other women. It was Marsworth's odd misfortune that he should have +happened to fall in love with a young woman who had practically none of +the qualities that he naturally and spontaneously admired in the sex. + +It was, however, about that young woman that he had come to talk. For he +was well aware of Nelly's growing intimacy with Cicely, and had lately +begun to look upon that as his last hope. + +Yet he was no sooner alone with Nelly than he felt a dim compunction. +This timid creature, with her dark haunting eyes, had problems enough of +her own to face. He perceived clearly that Farrell's passion for her was +mounting fast, and he had little or no idea what kind of response she +was likely to make to it. But all the same his own need drove him on. +And Nelly, who had scarcely slept all night, caught eagerly at some +temporary escape from her own perplexities. + +'Dear Mrs. Sarratt!--have you _any_ idea, whether Cicely cares one brass +farthing for me, or not?' + +To such broad and piteous appeal was a gallant officer reduced. Nelly +was sorry for him, but could not hide the smile in her eyes, as she +surveyed him. + +'Have you really asked her?' + +'Asked her? Many times!--in the dark ages. It is months, however, since +she gave me the smallest chance of doing it again. Everything I do or +say appears to annoy her, and of course, naturally, I have relieved her +of my presence as much as possible.' + +Nelly had taken up her knitting. + +'If you never come--perhaps--Cicely thinks you are tired of her.' + +Marsworth groaned. + +'Is that her line now? And yet you know--you are witness!--of how she +behaves when I do come.' + +Nelly looked up boldly. + +'You mustn't be angry, but--why can't you accept her--as she is--without +always wanting her different?' + +Marsworth flushed slightly. The impressive effect of his fine iron-grey +head, and marked features, his scrupulously perfect dress, and general +look of competence and ability, was deplorably undone by the signs in +him of bewilderment and distress. + +'You mean--you think I bully her?--she thinks so?' + +'She--she feels--you so dreadfully disapprove of her!' said Nelly, +sticking to it, but smiling. + +'She regards me as a first-class prig in fact?' + +'No--but she thinks you don't always understand.' + +'That I don't know what a splendid creature she is, really?' said +Marsworth with increasing agitation. 'But I do know it! I know it up and +down. Why everybody--except those she dislikes!--at that hospital, +adores her. She's wearing herself out at the work. None of us are fit to +black her boots. But if one ever tries to tell her so--my hat!' + +'Perhaps she doesn't like being praised either,' said Nelly softly. +'Perhaps she thinks--an old friend--should take it all for granted.' + +'Good Lord!' said Marsworth holding his head in desperation--'whatever I +do is wrong! Dear Mrs. Sarratt!--look here--I must speak up for myself. +You know how Cicely has taken of late to being intolerably rude to +anybody she thinks is my friend. She castigates me through them. That +poor little girl, Daisy Stewart--why she's ready at any moment to +worship Cicely! But Cicely tramples on her--_you_ know how she does +it--and if I interfere, I'm made to wish I had never been born! At the +present moment, Cicely won't speak to me. There was some silly shindy at +a parish tea last week--by the way, she's coming to you to-day?' + +'She arrives for lunch,' said Nelly, looking at the clock. + +'And the Stewarts are coming to the cottage in the afternoon!' said +Marsworth in despair. 'Can you keep her away?' + +'I'll try--but you know it's not much good trying to manage Cicely.' + +'Don't I know it! I return to my first question--does she care a +hapo'rth?' + +Nelly was looking dreamily into the fire. + +'You mean--does she care enough to give up her ways and take to yours?' + +'Yes, I suppose I do mean that,' he said, with sudden seriousness. + +Nelly shook her head, smiling. + +'I don't know! But--Cicely's worth a deal of trouble.' + +He assented with a mixture of fervour and depression. + +'We've known each other since we were boy and girl. That's what makes +the difficulty, perhaps. We know each other too well. When she was a +child of fourteen, I was already in the Guards, and I used to try and +tackle her--because no one else would. Her father was dead. Her mother +had no influence with her; and Willy was too lazy. So I tried my hand. +And I find myself doing the same thing now. But of course it's +fatal--it's fatal!' + +Nelly tried to cheer him up, but she was not herself very hopeful. She, +perceived too clearly the martinet in him and the rebel in Cicely. If +something were suddenly to throw them together, some common interest or +emotion, each might find the other's heart in a way past undoing. On the +other hand the jarring habit, once set up, has a way of growing worse, +and reducing everything else to dust and ashes. Finally she wound up +with a timid but emphatic counsel. + +'Please--please--don't be sarcastic.' + +He looked injured. + +'I never am!' + +Nelly laughed. + +'You don't know when you are. And be very nice to her this afternoon.' + +'How can I, if she shews me at once that I'm unwelcome? You haven't +answered my question.' + +He was standing ready for departure. Nelly's face changed--became all +sad and tender pity. + +'You must ask it yourself!' she said eagerly, 'Go on asking it. It would +be too--too dreadful, wouldn't it?--to miss everything--by being proud, +or offended, for nothing----' + +'What do you mean by everything?' + +'You know,' she said, after a moment, shielding her eyes as they looked +into the fire; 'I'm sure you know. It _is_ everything.' + +As he walked back to the cottage, he found himself speculating not so +much about his own case as about his friend's. Willy was certainly in +love. And Nelly Sarratt was as softly feminine as Cicely was mannish +and strong. But he somehow did not feel that Willy's chances were any +safer than his own. + +A car arrived at one o'clock bringing Cicely, much wrapped up in fur +coat and motor-veils. She came impetuously into the sitting-room, and +seemed to fill it. It took some time to peel her and reduce her to the +size of an ordinary mortal. She then appeared in a navy-blue coat and +skirt, with navy-blue boots buttoned almost to the knees. The skirt was +immensely full and immensely short. When the strange erection to which +the motor-veil was attached was removed, Cicely showed a dark head with +hair cut almost short, and parted on the left side. Her eyebrows were +unmistakably blackened, her lips unmistakably--strengthened; and Nelly +saw at once that her guest was in a very feverish and irritated +condition. + +'Are you alone?' said Cicely, glancing imperiously round her, when the +disrobing was done. + +'Bridget is here.' + +'What are you going to do this afternoon?' + +'Can't we have a walk, you and I, together?' + +'Of course we can. Why should we be bothered with anyone else?' + +'I suppose,' said Nelly timidly--'they will come in to tea?' + +'"They"? Oh! you mean Willy and Captain Marsworth? It is such a pity +Willy can't find somebody more agreeable for these Sundays.' + +Cicely threw herself back in her chair, and lifted a navy-blue boot to +the fire. + +'More agreeable than Captain Marsworth?' + +'Exactly. Willy can't do anything without him, when he's in these parts; +and it spoils everything!' + +Nelly dropped a kiss on Cicely's hair, as she stood beside her. + +'Why didn't you put off coming till next week?' + +'Why should I allow my plans to be interfered with by Captain +Marsworth?' said Cicely, haughtily. 'I came to see _you_!' + +'Well, we needn't see much of him,' said Nelly, soothingly, as she +dropped on a stool beside her friend. + +'I'm not going to be kept out of the cottage, by Captain Marsworth, all +the same!' said Cicely hastily. 'There are several books there I want.' + +'Oh, Cicely, what have you been doing?' said Nelly, laying her head on +her guest's knees. + +'Doing? Nothing that I hadn't a perfect right to do. But I suppose--that +very particular gentleman--has been complaining?' + +Nelly looked up, and met an eye, fiercely interrogative, yet trying hard +not to be interrogative. + +'I've been doing my best to pick up the pieces.' + +'Then he has been complaining?' + +'A little narrative of facts,' said Nelly mildly. + +'Facts--_facts_!' said Cicely, with the air of a disturbed lioness. 'As +if a man whose ideas of manners and morals date from about--a million +years before the Flood.' + +'Dear!--there weren't any manners or morals a million years before the +Flood.' + +Cicely drew a breath of exasperation. + +'It's all very well to laugh, but if you only knew how _impossible_ that +man is!' + +'Then why not get a Sunday free from him?' + +Cicely flushed against her will, and said nothing. Nelly's black eyes +observed her with as much sarcasm in their sweetness as she dared to +throw into them. She changed her tone. + +'Don't go to the cottage this afternoon, Cicely.' + +'Why?' The voice was peremptory. + +'Well, because----' Nelly described Farrell's chance meeting with the +Stewarts and the inevitable invitation. Cicely's flush deepened. But she +tried to speak carelessly. + +'Of course, the merest device on that girl's part! She arranged it all.' + +'I really don't think she did.' + +'Ah, well, _you_ haven't seen what's been going on. A more shameless +pursuit----' + +Cicely stopped abruptly. There was a sudden sparkle in Nelly's look, +which seemed to shew that the choice of the word 'pursuit' had been +unlucky. + +Miss Farrell quieted down. + +'Of course,' she said, with a very evident attempt to recapture whatever +dignity might be left on the field, 'neither Willy nor I like to see an +old friend throwing himself away on a little pink and white nonentity +like Daisy Stewart. We can't be expected to smile upon it.' + +'But I understand, from one of the parties principally concerned, that +there is really nothing in it!' said Nelly, smiling. + +'One of the perjuries I suppose at which Jove laughs!' said Cicely +getting up, and hastily rearranging her short curls with the help of +various combs, before the only diminutive looking-glass the farm +sitting-room provided. 'However, we shall see what happens. I have no +doubt Miss Daisy has arranged the proposal scene for this very +afternoon. We shall be in for the last act of the play.' + +'Then you _are_ going to the cottage?' + +'Certainly!' said Cicely, with a clearing brow. 'Don't let's talk any +more about it. Do give me some lunch. I'm ravenous. Ah, here's your +sister!' + +For through a back window looking on what had once been a farm-yard, and +was now a small garden, Cicely saw Bridget emerge from the rebuilt +outhouse where an impromptu study had been devised for her, and walk +towards the farm. + +'I say, what's happened to your sister?' + +'Happened to her? What do you mean?' + +'She looks so much older.' + +'I suppose she's been working too hard,' said Nelly, remorsefully. 'I +wish I knew what it was all about.' + +'Well, I can tell you'--said Cicely laughing and whispering--'that +Willy doesn't think it's about anything in particular!' + +'Hush!' said Nelly, with a pained look. 'Perhaps we shall all turn out +to be quite wrong. We shall discover that it was something--' + +'Desperately interesting and important? Not it! But I'm going to be as +good as good. You'll see.' + +And when Bridget appeared, Cicely did indeed behave herself with +remarkable decorum. Her opinion was that Nelly's strange sister had +grown more unlike other people than ever since she had last seen her. +She seemed to be in a perpetual brown study, which was compatible, +however, with a curious watchfulness which struck Cicely particularly. +She was always aware of any undercurrent in the room--of anyone going in +or out--of persons passing in the road. At lunch she scarcely opened her +lips, but Cicely was all the time conscious of being observed. After +luncheon Bridget got up abruptly, and said she was going down to +Grasmere to post a letter. + +'Oh, then,' said Nelly--'you can ask if there are any for me.' + +For there was no delivery at the farm on Sunday morning. Bridget nodded, +and they soon saw her emerge from the farm gate and take the Grasmere +road. + +'I must say your sister seems greatly to prefer her own company to +ours,' said Cicely, lighting her cigarette. + +Again Nelly looked distressed. + +'She was always like that,' she said at last. 'It doesn't really mean +anything.' + +'Do I know you well enough to ask whether you get on with her?' + +Nelly coloured. 'I try my best'--she said, rather despairingly. Then she +added--'she does all sorts of things for me that I'm too lazy to do for +myself!' + +'I believe she likes Willy better than most people!' laughed Cicely. +'I'm not suggesting, please, that she has designs upon him. But she is +certainly more forthcoming to him than to anybody else, isn't she?' + +Nelly did not reply. The remark only clouded her look still more. For +her inner mind was perfectly aware of Bridget's attitude towards William +Farrell, and understood it only too well. She knew by this time, past +any doubt, that Bridget was hungry for the Farrell wealth, and was +impatient with herself as a little fool who had not yet made certain of +it. If she stuck to her purpose--if she went away and cut off all +communication with Carton--Bridget would probably quarrel with her for +good. + +Would she stick to her purpose? Her mind was miserably swaying to and +fro. She felt morally as she had once felt--physically--on a summer +afternoon long before, when she, who could not swim, had gone +imperceptibly out of her depth, while bathing, and had become suddenly +aware of a seaward current, carrying her away. No help was near. For +five minutes, which had seemed five years, she had wrestled against the +deadly force, which if her girlish strength had been a fraction less, +would have swept her out, a lifeless plaything to the open sea. +Spiritually, it was the same now. Farrell's will, and--infinitely less +important, but still, to be reckoned with--Bridget's will, were pressing +her hard. She did not know if she could keep her footing. + +Meanwhile Cicely, in complete ignorance of the new and agonised tension +in Nelly's mind, was thinking only of her own affairs. As soon as her +after-luncheon cigarette was done, she sprang up and began to put on her +hat. + +'So you _are_ going to the cottage?' said Nelly. + +'Certainly. How do you like my boots?' + +She held up one for inspection. + +'I don't like them!' + +'Fast, you think? Ah, wait till you see my next costume! High Russian +boots, delicious things, up to there!' Cicely indicated a point above +the knee, not generally reached by the female boot--'hand-painted and +embroidered--with tassels--you know!--corduroy trousers!' + +'Cicely!--you won't!' + +'Shan't I--and a pink jersey, the new shade? I saw a friend of mine in +this get-up, last week. Ripping! Only she had red hair, which completed +it. Perhaps I might dye mine!' + +They sallied forth into a mild winter afternoon. Nelly would have +avoided the cottage and Farrell if she could, but Cicely had her own way +as usual. Presently they turned into a side lane skirting the tarn, from +which the cottage and its approaches could be seen, at a distance. From +the white-pillared porch, various figures were emerging, four in all. + +Cicely came to a stop. + +'There, you see!' she said, in her sharpest voice--'Look there!' For two +of the figures, whom it was easy to identify as Captain Marsworth and +Miss Stewart, diverging from the other pair, went off by themselves in +the direction of Skelwith, with a gay wave of the hand to the old Rector +and Farrell left behind. + +Cicely's sudden scarlet ebbed in a moment, leaving her quite white. She +walked on with difficulty, her eyes on the ground. Nelly dared not +address her, or slip a sympathising hand into hers. And it was too late +to retreat. Farrell had perceived them, and he and his companion came +towards them. Cicely pulled herself rapidly together. + +Nelly too had need of a minute or two's recollection before Farrell +joined them. He and she were still to meet as usual, while meeting was +possible--wasn't that how it stood? After all, her new plans could not +be made in a moment. She had promised nothing; but he had +promised--would she be able to hold him to it? Her heart trembled as he +came nearer. + +But he met her in a sunny mood, introducing her to the white-haired old +clergyman, and watching Cicely with eyes that shewed a hidden amusement. + +'The other two seemed to have some private business to discuss,' he said +carelessly. 'So they've got rid of us for a while. They're walking round +the other side of the tarn and will join us at the top of Red Bank. At +least if you're up to a walk?' + +He addressed Nelly, who could do nothing but assent, though it meant a +tete-a-tete with him, while Cicely and the old Rector followed. + +Mr. Stewart found Miss Farrell anything but an agreeable companion. He +was not a shrewd observer, and the love-affairs especially of his +fellow-creatures were always a surprise and a mystery to him. But he +vaguely understood that his little granddaughter was afraid of Miss +Farrell and did not get on with her. He, too, was afraid of Cicely and +her sharp tongue, while her fantastic dress and her rouge put him in +mind of passages in the prophet Ezekiel, the sacred author of whom he +was at that moment making a special study with a view to a Cambridge +University sermon. It would be terrible if Daisy were ever to take to +imitating Miss Farrell. He was a little disturbed about Daisy lately. +She had been so absent-minded, and sometimes--even--a little flighty. +She had forgotten the day before, to look out some passages for him; and +there was a rent in his old overcoat she had not mended. He was +disagreeably conscious of it. And what could she have to say to Captain +Marsworth? It was all rather odd--and annoying. He walked in a +preoccupied silence. + +Farrell and Nelly meanwhile were, it seemed, in no lack of conversation. +He told her that he might possibly be going to France, in a week or two, +for a few days. The Allied offensive on the Somme was apparently +shutting down for the winter. 'The weather in October just broke +everybody's heart, vile luck! Nothing to be done but to make the winter +as disagreeable to the Boche as we can, and to go on piling up guns and +shells for the spring. I'm going to look at hospitals at X---' he named +a great base camp--'and I daresay they'll let me have a run along some +bit of the front, if there's a motor to be had.' + +Nelly stopped abruptly. He could see the colour fluctuating in her +delicate face. + +'You're going to X---? You--you might see Dr. Howson?' + +'Howson?' he said, surprised. 'Do you know him? Yes, I shall certainly +see Howson. He's now the principal surgeon at one of the General +Hospitals there, where I specially want to look at some new splints +they've been trying.' + +Nelly moved on without speaking for a little. At last she said, almost +inaudibly-- + +'He promised me--to make enquiries.' + +'Did he?' Farrell spoke in the grave, deep voice he seemed to keep for +her alone, which was always sweet to her ear. 'And he has never +written?' She shook her head. 'But he would have written--instantly--you +may be quite sure, if there had been the slightest clue.' + +'Oh yes, I know, I know,' she said hastily. + +'Give me any message for him you like--or any questions you'd like me to +ask.' + +'Yes'--she said, vaguely. + +It seemed to him she was walking languidly, and he was struck by her +weary look. The afternoon had turned windy and cold with gusts of rain. +But when he suggested an immediate return to the cottage, Nelly would +have none of it. + +'We were to meet Captain Marsworth and Miss Stewart. Where are they?' + +They emerged at the moment from the cottage grounds, upon the high road; +Farrell pointed ahead, and Nelly saw Marsworth and Miss Stewart walking +fast up the hill before them, and evidently in close conversation. + +'What can they have to talk about?' said Nelly, wondering. + +'Wouldn't you like to know!' + +'You're not going to tell me?' + +'Not a word.' + +His eyes laughed at her. They walked on beside each other, strangely +content. And yet, with what undercurrents of sensitive and wounded +consciousness on her side, of anxiety on his! + +At the top of Red Bank they came up with Marsworth and Miss Stewart. +Nelly's curiosity was more piqued than ever. If all that Marsworth had +said to her was true, why this evident though suppressed agitation on +the girl's part, and these shades of mystery in the air? Daisy Stewart +was what anybody would have called 'a pretty little thing.' She was +small, round-cheeked, round-eyed, round-limbed; light upon her feet; +shewing a mass of brown hair brushed with gold under her hat, and the +fresh complexion of a mountain maid. Nelly guessed her age about three +and twenty, and could not help keenly watching the meeting between her +and Cicely. She saw Cicely hold out a limp hand, and the girl's timid, +almost entreating eyes. + +But, the next moment, her attention was diverted to a figure slowly +mounting the steep hill from Grasmere, on the top of which the cottage +party were now standing, uncertain whether to push on for their walk, or +to retreat homewards before the increasing rain. The person approaching +was Bridget. As she perceived her, Nelly was startled into quick +recollection of Cicely's remark of the morning--'Your sister seems to +have grown much older.' But not only older--_different!_ Nelly could not +have analysed her own impression, but it was so painful that she ran +down to meet her. + +'Bridget, it's too far for you to Grasmere!--and coming back up this +awful hill! You look quite done. Do go home and lie down, or will you +come to the cottage for tea first? It's nearer.' + +Bridget looked at her coldly. + +'Why do you make such a fuss? I'm all right. But I'm not coming to the +cottage, thank you. I've got things to do.' + +The implication was that everyone else was idle. Nelly drew back, +rebuffed. And as Bridget reached the group at the top of the hill it was +as though the rain and darkness suddenly deepened. All talk dropped. +Farrell, indeed, greeted her courteously, introduced her to the +Stewarts, and asked her to come back to the cottage for tea. But he was +refused as Nelly had been. Bridget went on her way alone towards the +farm. But after parting from the others she turned back suddenly to +say--'There were no letters for you, Nelly.' + +'What a mercy!' said Farrell, as Bridget disappeared. 'Don't you think +so? I never have any forwarded here.' + +'Ah, but you get so many,' said Nelly wistfully. 'But still, letters +don't matter to me--now.' + +He said nothing, but it roused in him a kind of fierce soreness that she +would always keep the past so clearly before herself and him. + +Violent rain came on, and they hurried back to the cottage for shelter. +Cicely was talking extravagantly all the time. She was tired to death, +she said, of everything patriotic. The people who prattled about +nursing, and the people who prattled about the war--especially the +people who talked about women's work--were all equally intolerable. She +meant to give up everything very soon. Somebody must amuse themselves, +or the world would go mad. Farrell threw at her some brotherly jibes; +the old Rector looked scared; and Marsworth said nothing. + + * * * * * + +There were bright fires in the cottage, and the dripping walkers were +glad to crowd round them; all except Cicely and Marsworth, who seemed to +Nelly's watching sense to be oddly like two wrestlers pacing round each +other, and watching the opportunity to close. Each would take out a book +from the shelves and put it back, or take up a newspaper from the +tables--crossing repeatedly, but never speaking. And meanwhile Nelly +also noticed that Daisy Stewart, now that Cicely's close contact was +removed, was looking extraordinarily pretty. Radiance, not to be +concealed, shone from her charming childish face. + +Suddenly Marsworth paused in front of Cicely, intercepting her as she +was making for the door. + +'Would you be an angel, Miss Farrell, and help me to find a particular +Turner drawing I want to see? Willy says it's in the studio somewhere.' + +Cicely paused, half haughty, half irresolute. + +'Willy knows his way about the portfolios much better than I do.' + +Marsworth came nearer, and leaning one hand on the table between them, +bent over to her. He was smiling, but there was emotion in his look. + +'Willy is looking after these people. Won't you?' + +Cicely considered. + +'All right!' she said carelessly, at last, and led the way. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +The studio was empty. A wood fire burnt on the wide hearth, making a +pleasant glow in the wintry twilight. Cicely seated herself on the end +of a sofa, crossed her feet, and took out a cigarette. But to +Marsworth's intense relief she had taken off the helmet-like erection +she called a hat, and her black curly hair strayed as it pleased about +her brow and eyes. + +'Well?' she said, at last, looking at him coolly. Marsworth could not +help laughing. He brought a chair, and placed it where he could see her +from below, as he lay back in it, his hands behind his head. + +'Of course, you don't want to look at the portfolio,' she resumed, 'that +was your excuse. You want to tell me of your engagement to Miss +Stewart.' + +Marsworth laughed again. Her ear caught what seemed to be a note of +triumph. + +'Make haste, please!' she said, breathing quickly. 'There isn't very +much time.' + +His face changed. He sat up, and held out his hand to her. + +'Dear Cicely, I want you to do something for me.' + +But she put her own behind her back. + +'Have you been quarrelling already? Because if you want me to make it +up, that really isn't my vocation.' + +He was silent a moment surveying her. Then he said quietly--'I want you +to help me. I want you to be kind to that little girl.' + +'Daisy Stewart? Thank you. But I've no gift at all for mothering babes! +Besides--she'll now have all the advice, and all the kindness she +wants.' + +Marsworth's lips twitched. + +'Yes, that's true--if you and I can help her out. Cicely!--aren't you a +great friend of Sir John Raine?' + +He named one of the chiefs of the Army Medical Department, a man whose +good word was the making of any aspirant in the field he ruled. + +Cicely looked rather darkly at her questioner. + +'What do you mean?' + +'I want you to help me get an appointment for somebody.' + +'For whom?' + +'For the man Daisy Stewart wants to marry.' + +Cicely could not conceal her start. + +'I don't like being mystified,' she said coldly. + +Marsworth allowed his smile to shew itself. + +'I'm not trying to mystify you in the least. Daisy Stewart has been +engaged for nearly a year to one of the house-surgeons in your +hospital--young Fellows. Nobody knows it--not Willy even. It has been +kept a dead secret, because that wicked old man the Rector won't have +it. Daisy makes him comfortable, and he won't give her up, if he can +help it. And as young Fellows has nothing but his present pay--a year +with board and lodging--it seemed hopeless. But now he has got his eye +on something.' + +And in a quiet business-like voice Marsworth put the case of the +penniless one--his qualifications, his ambitions, and the particular +post under the Army Medical Board on which he had set his hopes. If only +somebody with influence would give him a leg up! + +Cicely interrupted. + +'Does Willy know?' + +'No. You see, I have come to you first.' + +'How long have you known?' + +'Since my stay with them last autumn. I suspected something then, just +as I was leaving; and Miss Daisy confessed--when I was there in May. +Since then she seems to have elected me her chief adviser. But, of +course, I had no right to tell anybody anything.' + +'That is what you like--to advise people?' + +Marsworth considered it. + +'There was a time'--he said, at last, in a different voice, 'when my +advice used to be asked by someone else--and sometimes taken.' + +Cicely pretended to light another cigarette, but her slim fingers shook +a little. + +'And now--you never give it?' + +'Oh yes, I do,' he said, with sudden bitterness--'even unasked. I'm +always the same old bore.' + +There was silence. His right hand stole towards her left that was lying +limply over her knee. Cicely's eyes looking down were occupied with his +disabled arm, which, although much improved, was still glad to slip into +its sling whenever it was not actively wanted. + +But just as he was capturing her, Cicely sprang up. + +'I must go and see about Sir John Raine.' + +'Cicely--I don't care a brass farthing about Sir John Raine!' + +'But having once brought him in, I recommend you to stick to him,' said +Cicely, with teasing eyes. 'And don't go advising young women. It's not +good for the military. _I'm_ going to take this business in hand.' + +And she made for departure, but Marsworth got to the door first, and put +his back against it. + +'Find me the Turner, Cicely.' + +'A man who asks for a thing on false pretences shouldn't have it.' + +A silence. Then a meek voice said-- + +'Captain Marsworth, my brother, Sir William Farrell, will be requiring +my services at tea!' + +Marsworth moved aside and she forward. But as she neared him, he caught +her passionately in his arms and kissed her. She released herself, +crimson. + +'Do I like being kissed?' she said in a low voice--'do I? Anyway +don't do it again!--and if you dare to say a word yet--to anyone--' + +Her eyes threatened; but he saw in them revelations her pride could not +check, and would have disobeyed her at once; but she was too quick for +him. In a second she had opened the door and was gone. + +During the rest of the afternoon, her brother and Nelly watched Cicely's +proceedings with stupefaction; only equalled by the bewilderment of Miss +Daisy Stewart. For that young lady was promoted to the good graces of +Sir William's formidable sister with a rapidity and completeness which +only natural good manners and good sense could have enabled her to deal +with; considering the icy exclusion to which she had been so long +condemned. But as she possessed both, she took it very simply; always +with the same serene light in her grey eyes. + +Marsworth said to himself presently that young Fellows' chances were +good. But in truth he hardly remembered anything about them, except that +by the help of them he had kissed Cicely! And he had yet to find out +what that remarkable fact was to mean, either to himself or to her. She +refused to let him take her back to the farm, and she only gave him a +finger in farewell. Nor did she say a word of what had happened, even to +Nelly. + +Nelly spent again a very wakeful night. Farrell had walked home with +them, and she understood from him that, although he was going over early +to Carton the following morning, he would be at the cottage again +before many days were over. It seemed to her that in telling her so he +had looked at her with eyes that seemed to implore her to trust him. And +she, on hearing it, had been merely dumb and irresponsive, not +forbidding or repellent, as she ought to have been. The courage to wound +him to the quick--to leave him bereft, to go out into the desert +herself, seemed to be more and more oozing away from her. + +Yet there beside her bed, on the table which held her Testament, and the +few books--almost all given her by W.F.--to which she was wont to turn +in her wakeful hours, was George's photograph in uniform. About three +o'clock in the morning she lit her candle, and lay looking at it, till +suddenly she stretched out her hand for it, kissed it repeatedly, and +putting it on her breast, clasped her hands over it, and so fell asleep. + +But before she fell asleep, she was puzzled by the sounds in Bridget's +room next door. Bridget seemed to be walking about--pacing up and down +incessantly. Sometimes the steps would cease; only to begin again after +a while with the same monotony. What could be the matter with Bridget? +This vague worry about her sister entered into and heightened all +Nelly's other troubles. Yet all the same, in the end, she fell asleep; +and the westerly wind blowing over Wetherlam, and chasing wild flocks of +grey rain-clouds before him, found no one awake in the cottage or the +farm to listen to the concert he was making with the fells, but +Bridget--and Cicely. + + * * * * * + +Bridget Cookson had indeed some cause for wakefulness. Locked away in +the old workbox, where she kept the papers to which she attached +importance, was a letter bearing the imprint 'O.A.S.,' which had been +delivered to her on Sunday afternoon by the Grasmere post-mistress. It +ran as follows: + + +'DEAR MISS COOKSON,--I know of course that you are fully convinced the +poor fellow we have here in charge has nothing to do with your +brother-in-law. But as you saw him, and as the case may throw light on +other cases of a similar nature, I thought I would just let you know +that owing apparently to the treatment we have been carrying out, there +are some very interesting signs of returning consciousness since your +visit, though nothing very definite as yet. He is terribly ill, and +physically I see no chance for him. But I think he _may_ be able to tell +us who he is before the end, in which case I will inform you, lest you +should now or at any future time feel the smallest misgiving as to your +own verdict in the matter. This is very unlikely, I know, for I +understand you were very decided; but still as soon as we have definite +information--if we get it--you may wish to inform poor Mrs. Sarratt of +your journey here. I hope she is getting stronger. She did indeed look +very frail when I saw her last. + +'Yours very truly, + +'ROBERT HOWSON.' + +Since the receipt of that letter Bridget's reflections had been more +disagreeable than any she had yet grappled with. In Nelly's company the +awfulness of what she had done did sometimes smite home to her. Well, +she had staked everything upon it, and the only possible course was to +brazen it out. That George should die, and die _quickly_--without any +return of memory or speech, was what she terribly and passionately +desired. In all probability he would die quickly; he might even now be +dead. She saw the thing perpetually as a race between his returning +mind--if he still lived, and it was returning--and his ebbing strength. +If she had lived in old Sicilian days, she would have made a waxen image +like the Theocritean sorceress, and put it by the fire, that as it +wasted, so George might waste. As it was, she passed her time during the +forty-eight hours after reading Howson's letter in a silent and +murderous concentration on one thought and wish--George Sarratt's +speedy death. + +What a release indeed for everybody!--if people would only tell the +truth, and not dress up their real feelings and interests in stale +sentimentalisms. Farrell made happy at no very distant date; Nelly +settled for life with a rich man who adored her; her own future +secured--with the very modest freedom and opportunity she craved:--all +this on the one side--futile tragedy and suffering on the other. None +the less, there were moments when, with a start, she realised what other +people might think of her conduct. But after all she could always plead +it was a mistake--an honest mistake. Are there not constantly cases in +the law courts, which shew how easy it is to fail in identifying the +right person, or to persist in identifying the wrong one? + +During the days before Farrell returned, the two sisters were alone +together. Bridget would gladly have gone away out of sight and hearing +of Nelly. But she did not dare to leave the situation--above all, the +postman--unwatched. Meanwhile Nelly made repeated efforts to break down +the new and inexplicable barrier which seemed to have arisen between +herself and Bridget. Why would Bridget always sit alone in that chilly +outside room, which even with a large fire seemed to Nelly +uninhabitable? She tried to woo her sister, by all the small devices in +her power. + +'Why won't you come and sit with me a bit, Bridget? I'm so dull all +alone!'--she would say when, after luncheon or high tea, Bridget showed +signs of immediately shutting herself up again. + +'I can't. I must do some work.' + +'Do tell me what you're doing, Bridget?' + +'Oh, you wouldn't understand.' + +'Well, other people don't always think me a born idiot!'--Nelly would +say, not without resentment. 'I really could understand, Bridget, if +you'd try.' + +'I haven't the time.' + +'And you're killing yourself with so many hours of it. Why should you +slave so? If you only would come and help me sometimes with the Red +Cross work, I'd do any needlework for you, that you wanted.' + +'You know I hate needlework.' + +'You're not doing anything--not _anything_--for the war, Bridget!' Nelly +would venture, wistfully, at last. + +'There are plenty of people to do things for the war. I didn't want the +war! Nobody asked my opinion.' + +And presently the door would shut, and Nelly would be left to watch the +torrents of rain outside, and to endeavour by reading and drawing, by +needlework and the society of her small friend Tommy, whenever she could +capture him, to get through the day. She pined for Hester, but Hester +was doing Welfare work in a munition factory at Leeds, and could not be +got at. + +So there she sat alone, brooding and planning, too timid to talk to +Bridget of her own schemes, and, in her piteous indecision, longing +guiltily for Farrell's return. Meanwhile she had written to several +acquaintances who were doing V.A.D. work in various voluntary hospitals, +to ask for information. + +Suddenly, after the rain came frost and north wind--finally snow; the +beginning in the north of the fiercest winter Western Europe has known +for many years. Over heights and dales alike spread the white Leveller, +melting by day in the valley bottoms, and filling up his wastage by +renewed falls at night. Nelly ventured out sometimes to look at the high +glories of Wetherlam and the Pikes, under occasional gleams of sun. +Bridget never put a foot out of doors, except when she went to the +garden gate to look for the postman in the road, and take the letters +from him. + +At last, one evening, when after a milder morning a bitter blast from +the north springing up at dusk had, once more, sent gusts of snow +scudding over the fells, Nelly's listening ear heard the well-known step +at the gate. She sprang up with a start of joy. She had been so lonely, +so imprisoned with her own sad thoughts. The coming of this kind, strong +man, so faithful to his small friend through all the stress of his busy +and important life, made a sudden impression upon her, which brought the +tears to her eyes. She thought of Carton, of its splendid buildings, and +the great hospital which now absorbed them; she seemed to see Farrell as +the king of it all, the fame of his doings spreading every month over +the north, and wiping out all that earlier conception of him as a +dilettante and an idler of which she had heard from Hester. And yet, +escaping from all that activity, that power, that constant interest and +excitement, here he was, making use of his first spare hour to come +through the snow and the dark, just to spend an hour with Nelly Sarratt, +just to cheer her lonely little life. + +Nelly ran to the window and opened it. + +'Is that really you?' she called, joyously, while the snow drifted +against her face. + +Farrell, carrying a lantern, was nearing the porch. The light upon his +face as he turned shewed her his look of delight. + +'I'm later than I meant, but the roads are awful. May I walk in?' + +She ran down to meet him; then hung back rather shyly in the passage, +while he took off his overcoat and shook the snow from his beard. + +'Have you any visitors?' he asked, still dusting away the snow. + +'Only Bridget. I asked Hester, but she couldn't come.' + +He came towards her along the narrow passage, to the spot where she +stood tremulous on the lowest step of the stairs. A lamp burning on a +table revealed her slight figure in black, the warm white of her throat +and face, the grace of the bending head, and the brown hair wreathed +about it. He saw her as an exquisite vision in a dim light and shade. +But it was not that which broke down his self-control so much as the +pathetic look in her dark eyes, the look of one who is glad, and yet +shrinks from her own gladness--tragically conscious of her own weakness, +and yet happy in it. It touched his heart so profoundly that whether +the effect was pain or pleasure he could not have told. But as he +reached the step, moved by an irresistible impulse, he held out his +arms, and she melted into them. For one entrancing instant, he held her +close and warm upon his breast, while the world went by. + +But the next moment she had slipped away, and was sitting on the step, +her face in her hands. + +He did not plead or excuse himself. He just stood by her endeavouring to +still and control his pulses--till at last she looked up. The lamp +shewed her his face, and the passion in it terrified her. For there had +been no passion in her soft and sudden yielding. Only the instinct of +the child that is forsaken and wants comforting, that feels love close +to it, and cannot refuse it. + +'There, you see!' she said, desperately--'You see--I must go!' + +'No! It's I who must go. Unless '--his voice sank almost to a +whisper--'Nelly!--couldn't you--marry me? You should never, never regret +it.' + +She shook her head, and as she dropped her face again in her hands he +saw a shudder run through her. At the sight his natural impulse was to +let passion have its way, to raise her in his arms again, and whisper to +her there in the dark, as love inspired him, his cheek on hers. But he +did not venture. He was well aware of something intangible and +incalculable in Nelly that could not be driven. His fear of it held him +in check. He knew that she was infinitely sorry for him and tender +towards him. But he knew too that she was not in love with him. Only--he +would take his chance of that, if only she would marry him. + +'Dear!' he said, stooping to her, and touching her dark curls with his +hand. 'Let's call in Hester! She's dreadfully wise! If you were with her +I should feel happy--I could wait. But it is when I see you so lonely +here--and so sad--nobody to care for you!--that I can't bear it!' + +Through the rush of the wind, a sound of someone crossing the yard +behind the farm came to their ears. Nelly sprang to her feet and led the +way upstairs. Farrell followed her, and as they moved, they heard +Bridget open the back door and come in. + +The little sitting-room was bright with lamp and fire, and Farrell, +perceiving that they were no longer to be alone, and momentarily +expecting Bridget's entrance, put impatience aside and began to talk of +his drive from Carton. + +'The wind on Dunmail Raise was appalling, and the lamps got so +be-snowed, we had to be constantly clearing them. But directly we got +down into the valley it mended, and I managed to stop at the +post-office, and ask if there were any letters for you. There were +two--and a telegram. What have I done with them?' He began to search in +his pockets, his wits meanwhile in such a whirl that it was difficult +for him to realise what he was doing. + +At that point Bridget opened the door. He turned to shake hands with +her, and then resumed his fumbling. + +'I'm sure they did give them to me'--he said, in some concern,--'two +letters and a telegram.' + +'A telegram!' said Bridget, suddenly, hurrying forward,--'it must be for +me.' + +She peremptorily held out her hand, and as she did so, Nelly caught +sight of her sister. Startled out of all other thoughts she too made a +step forward. What _was_ wrong with Bridget? The tall, gaunt woman stood +there livid, her eyes staring at Farrell, her hand unsteady as she +thrust it towards him. + +'Give me the telegram, please! I was expecting one,' she said, trying to +speak as usual. + +Farrell turned to her in surprise. + +'But it wasn't for you, Miss Cookson. It was for Mrs. Sarratt. I saw the +address quite plainly. Ah, here they are. How stupid of me! What on +earth made me put them in that pocket.' + +He drew out the letters and the telegram. Bridget said again--'Give it +me, please! I know it's for me!' And she tried to snatch it. Farrell's +face changed. He disliked Bridget Cookson heartily, mainly on Nelly's +account, and her rude persistence nettled a temper accustomed to +command. He quietly put her aside. + +'When your sister has read it, Miss Cookson, she will no doubt let you +see it. As it happens, the post-mistress made me promise to give it to +Mrs. Sarratt myself. She seemed interested--I don't know why.' + +Nelly took it. Farrell--who began to have some strange misgiving--stood +between her and Bridget. Bridget made no further movement. Her eyes were +fixed on Nelly. + +Nelly, bewildered by the little scene and by Bridget's extraordinary +behaviour, tore open the brown envelope, and read slowly--'Please come +at once. Have some news for you. Your sister will explain. Howson, Base +Headquarters, X------, France.' + +'Howson?' said Nelly. Then the colour began to ebb from her face. 'Dr. +Howson?' she repeated. 'What news? What does he mean? _Oh_!'--the cry +rang through the room--'_it's George_!--it's George! he's +found!--he's found!' + +She thrust the telegram piteously into Farrell's hands. He read it, and +turned to Bridget. + +'What does Dr. Howson mean, Miss Cookson, and why does he refer Mrs. +Sarratt to you?' + +For some seconds she could not make her pale lips reply. Finally, she +said--'That's entirely my own affair, Sir William. I shall tell my +sister, of course. But Nelly had better go at once, as Dr. Howson +advises. I'll go and see to things.' + +She turned slowly away. Nelly ran forward and caught her. + +'Oh, Bridget--don't go--you mustn't go! What news is it? Bridget, tell +me!--you couldn't--you _couldn't_ be so cruel--not to tell me--if you +knew anything about George!' + +Bridget stood silent. + +'Oh, what can I do--what can I do?' cried Nelly. + +Then her eyes fell on the letters still in her hand. She tore one +open--and read it--with mingled cries of anguish and joy. Farrell dared +not go near her. There seemed already a gulf between her and him. + +'It's from Miss Eustace'--she said, panting, as she looked up at last, +and handed the letter to him--it's George--he's alive--they've heard +from France--he asks for me--but--but--he's dying.' + +Her head dropped forward a little. She caught at the back of a chair, +nearly fainting. But when Farrell approached her, she put up a hand in +protest. + +'No, no,--I'm all right. But, Bridget, Miss Eustace says--you've +actually _seen_ him--you've been to France. When did you go?' + +'About three weeks ago,' said Bridget, after a moment's pause. 'Oh, of +course I know'--she threw back her head defiantly--'you'll all set on +me--you'll all blame me. But I suppose I may be mistaken like anybody +else--mayn't I? I didn't think the man I saw was George--I didn't! And +what was the good of disturbing your mind?' + +But as she told the lie, she told it so lamely and unconvincingly that +neither of the other two believed it for a moment. Nelly stood +up--tottering--but mistress of herself. She looked at Farrell. + +'Sir William--can you take me to Windermere, for the night-train? I know +when it goes--10.20. I'll be ready--by nine.' She glanced at the clock, +which was just nearing seven. + +'Of course,' said Farrell, taking up his hat. 'I'll go and see to the +motor. But'--he looked at her with entreaty--'you can't go this long +journey alone!' + +The words implied a bitter consciousness that his own escort was +impossible. Nelly did not notice it. She only said impatiently-- + +'But, of course, I must go alone.' + +She stood silent--mastering the agony within--forcing herself to think +and will. When the pause was over, she said quietly--'I will be quite +ready at nine.' And then mechanically--'It's very good of you.' + +He went away, passing Bridget, who stood with one foot on the fender, +staring down into the fire. + +When the outer door had closed upon him, Nelly looked at her sister. She +was trembling all over. + +'Bridget--_why_ did you do it?' The voice was low and full of horror. + +'What do you mean? I made a mistake--that's all!' + +'Bridget--you _knew_ it was George! You couldn't be mistaken. Miss +Eustace says--in the letter'--she pointed to it--'they asked you about +his hands. Do you remember how you used to mock at them?' + +'As if one could remember after a year and a half!' + +'No, you couldn't forget, Bridget--a thing like that--I know you +couldn't. And what made you do it! Did you think I had forgotten +George?' + +At that the tears streamed down her face, unheeded. She approached her +sister piteously. + +'Bridget, tell me what he looked like! Did you speak to him--did you see +his eyes open? Oh my poor George!--and I here--never thinking of +him'--she broke off incoherently, twisting her hands. 'Miss Eustace says +he was wounded in two places--severely--that she's afraid there's no +hope. Did they say that to you, Bridget--tell me!--for Heaven's sake +tell me!' + +'You'll make yourself ill,' said Bridget harshly. 'You'd better lie +down, and let me pack for you.' + +Nelly laughed out. + +'As if I'd ever let you do anything for me any more! No, that's done +with. You've been so accustomed to manage me all these years. You +thought you could manage me now--you thought you could let George +die--and I should never know--and you'd make me marry--William Farrell. +Bridget--_I hate you!'_ + +She broke off, shivering, but resumed almost at once--'I see it all--I +think I see it all. And now it's all done for between you and me. If +George dies, I shall never come back to live with you again. You'd +better make plans, Bridget. It's over for ever.' + +'You don't know what you're saying, now,' said Bridget, coldly. + +Nelly did not hear her, she was lost in a whirl of images and thoughts. +And governed by them she went up to Bridget again, thrusting her small +white face under her sister's eyes. + +'What sort of a room was he in, Bridget? Who was nursing him? Are you +sure he didn't know you? Did you call him by his name? Did you make him +understand?' + +'He knew nobody,' said Bridget, drawing back, against her will, before +the fire in Nelly's wild eyes. 'He was in a very good room. There was a +nurse sitting with him.' + +'Was he--was he very changed?' + +'Of course he was. If not, I should have known him.' + +Nelly half smiled. Bridget could never have thought that soft mouth +capable of so much scorn. But no words came. Then Nelly walked away to a +drawer where she kept her accounts, her cheque-book, and any loose money +she might be in possession of. She took out her cheque-book and some two +or three pounds that lay there. + +'If you want money, I can lend you some,' said Bridget, catching at the +old note of guardianship. + +'Thank you. But I shall not want it.' + +'Nelly, don't be a fool!' said Bridget, stung at last into speech. +'Suppose all you think is true--I don't admit it, mind--but suppose it's +true. How was I doing such a terrible wrong to you?--in the eyes, I +mean, of sensible people--in not disturbing your mind. Nobody +expected--that man I saw--to know anybody again--or to live more than a +few days. Even if I had been certain--and how could I be +certain?--wasn't it _reasonable_ to weigh one thing against another? You +know very well--it's childish to ignore it--what's been going on +here----' + +But she paused. Nelly, writing a letter, was not apparently concerned +with anything Bridget had been saying. It did not seem to have reached +her ears. A queer terror shot through Bridget. But she dismissed it. As +if Nelly could ever really get on without her. Little, feckless, +sentimental thing! + +Nelly finished her letter and put it up. + +'I have written to Sir William's agent, Bridget'--she said turning +towards her sister--'to say that I give up the farm. I shall pay the +servant. Hester will look after my things, and send them--when I want +them.' + +'Why Hester?' said Bridget, with something of a sneer. + +Nelly did not answer. She put up her letter, took the money and the +cheque-book and went out of the room. Bridget heard her call their one +servant, Mrs. Dowson, and presently steps ascended the stairs and +Nelly's door shut. The sound of the shutting door roused in her again +that avenging terror. Her first impulse was to go and force herself +into Nelly's room, so as to manage and pack for her as usual. But +something stopped her. She consoled herself by going down to the kitchen +to look after the supper. Nelly, of course, must have some food before +her night journey. + +Behind that shut door, Nelly was looking into the kind weather-beaten +face of Mrs. Dowson. + +'Mrs. Dowson, I'm going away to-night--and I'm not coming back. Sir +William knows.' + +Then she caught the woman's gnarled hands, and her own features began to +work. + +'Mrs. Dowson, they've found my husband! Did Sir William tell you? He's +not dead--he's alive--But he's very, very ill.' + +'Oh, you poor lamb!' cried Mrs. Dowson. 'No--Sir William tellt me nowt. +The Lord be gracious to you!' Bathed in sudden tears, she kissed one of +the hands that held hers, pouring out incoherent words of hope. But +Nelly did not cry, and presently she said firmly-- + +'Now, please, you must help me to pack. Sir William will be here at +nine.' + +Presently all was ready. Nelly had hunted out an old grey travelling +dress in which George had often seen her, and a grey hat with a veil. +She hastily put all her black clothes aside. + +'Miss Martin will send me anything I want. I have asked her to come and +fetch my things.' + +'But Miss Cookson will be seein' to that!' said Mrs. Dowson wondering. +Nelly made no reply. She locked her little box, and then stood upright, +looking round the small room. She seemed to be saying 'Good-bye' for +ever to the Nelly who had lived, and dreamed, and prayed there. She was +going to George--that was all she knew. + +Downstairs, Bridget was standing at the door of the little dining-room. +'I have put out some cold meat for you,' she said, stiffly. 'You won't +get anything for a long time.' + +Nelly acquiesced. She drank some tea, and ate as much as she could. +Neither she nor Bridget spoke, till Bridget, who was at the window +looking out into the snow, turned round to say--'Here's the motor.' + +Nelly rose, and tied her veil on closely. Mrs. Dowson brought her a +thick coat, which had been part of her trousseau, and wrapped her in it. + +'You had better take your grey shawl,' said Bridget. + +'I have it here, Miss,' said Mrs. Dowson, producing it. 'I'll put it +over her in the motor.' + +She disappeared to open the door to Sir William's knock. + +Nelly turned to her sister. + +'Good-bye, Bridget.' + +Bridget flamed out. + +'And you don't mean to write to me? You mean to carry out this absurd +plan of separation!' + +'I don't know what I shall do--till I have seen George,' said Nelly +steadily. 'He'll settle for me. Only you and I are not sisters any +more.' + +Bridget shrugged her shoulders, with some angry remark about 'theatrical +nonsense.' Nelly went out into the passage, threw her arms about Mrs. +Dowson's neck, for a moment, and then hurried out towards the car. It +stood there in the falling snow, its bright lights blazing on the bit of +Westmorland wall opposite, and the overhanging oaks, still heavy with +dead leaf. Farrell was standing at the door, holding a fur rug. He and +Mrs. Dowson tucked it in round Nelly's small cloaked figure. + +Then without a word, Farrell shut the door of the car, and took the seat +beside the driver. In another minute Bridget was watching the lights of +the lamps rushing along the sides of the lane, till at a sharp bend of +the road it disappeared. + +There was a break presently in the snow-fall, and as they reached the +shores of Windermere, Nelly was aware of struggling gleams of moonlight +on steely water. The anguish in her soul almost resented the break in +the darkness. She was going to George; but George was dying, and while +he had been lying there in his lonely suffering, she had been forgetting +him, and betraying him. The recollection of Farrell's embrace +overwhelmed her with a crushing sense of guilt. George indeed should +never know. But that made no difference to her own misery. + +The miles flew by. She began to think of her journey, to realise her +helplessness and inexperience in the practical things of life. She must +get her passport, and some money. Who would advise her, and tell her how +to get to France under war conditions? Would she be allowed to go by the +short sea passage? For that she knew a special permit was necessary. +Could she get it at once, or would she be kept waiting in town? The +notion of having to wait one unnecessary hour tortured her. Then her +thoughts fastened on Miss Eustace of the Enquiry Office, who had written +her the letter which had arrived simultaneously with Dr. Howson's +telegram. 'Let me know if I can be of any use to you, for your journey. +If there is anything you want to know that we can help you in, you had +better come straight to this office.' + +Yes, that she would do. But the train arrived in London at 7 A.M. And +she could not possibly see Miss Eustace before ten or eleven. She must +just sit in the waiting-room till it was time. And she must get some +money. She had her cheque-book and would ask Sir William to tell her how +to get a cheque cashed in London. She was ashamed of her own ignorance +in these small practical matters. + +The motor stopped. Sir William jumped down, but before he came to open +the door for her, she saw him turn round and wave his hand to two +persons standing outside the station. They hurried towards the motor, +and as Nelly stepped down from it, she felt herself grasped by eager +hands. + +'You poor darling! I thought we couldn't be in time. But we flew. Don't +trouble about anything. We've done it all.' + +Cicely!--and behind her Marsworth. + +Nelly drew back. + +'Dear Cicely!' she said faintly--'but I can manage--I can manage quite +well.' + +Resistance, however, was useless. Marsworth and Cicely, it seemed, were +going to London with her--Cicely probably to France; and Marsworth had +already telegraphed about her passport. She would have gladly gone by +herself, but she finally surrendered--for George's sake, that she might +get to him the quicker. + +Then everything was done for her. Amid the bustle of the departing +train, she was piteously aware of Farrell, and just before they started, +she leant out to give him her hand. + +'I will tell George all you have done for me,' she said, gulping down a +sob. + +He pressed her hand before releasing it, but said nothing. What was +there to say? Meanwhile, Cicely, to ease the situation, was chattering +hard, describing how Farrell had sent his chauffeur to Ambleside on a +motor bicycle, immediately after leaving Nelly, and so had got a +telephone message through to Cicely. + +'We had the small car out and ready in ten minutes, and, by good luck, +there was a motor-transport man on leave, who had come to see a brother +in the hospital. We laid hands on him, and he drove us here. But it's a +mercy we're not sitting on the Raise! You remember that heap of stones +on the top of the Raise, that thing they say is a barrow--the grave of +some old British party before the Flood?--well, the motor gave out +there! Herbert and the chauffeur sat under it in the snow and worked at +it. I thought the river was coming over the road, and that the wind +would blow us all away. But it'll be all right for your crossing +to-morrow--the storm will have quite gone down. Herbert thinks you'll +start about twelve o'clock,--and you'll be at the camp that same night. +Oh, isn't it wonderful!--isn't it _ripping_?' cried Cicely under her +breath, stooping down to kiss Nelly, while the two men talked at the +carriage window.--'You're going to get him home! We'll have the best men +in London to look after him. He'll pull through, you'll see--he'll pull +through!' + +Nelly sank into a seat and closed her eyes. Cicely's talk--why did she +call Marsworth 'Herbert'?--was almost unbearable to her. _She_ knew +through every vein that she was going across the Channel--to see George +die. If only she were in time!--if only she might hold him in her arms +once more! Would the train never go? + +Farrell, in spite of snow and storm, pushed his way back to Carton that +night. In that long motor drive a man took counsel with himself on whom +the war had laid a chastening and refining hand. The human personality +cannot spend itself on tasks of pity and service without taking the +colour of them, without rising insensibly to the height of them. They +may have been carelessly adopted, or imposed from without. But the mere +doing of them exalts. As the dyer's hand is 'subdued to what it works +in,' so the man that is always about some generous business for his +fellow-men suffers thereby, insensibly, a change, which is part of the +'heavenly alchemy' for ever alive in the world. It was so at any rate +with William Farrell. The two years of his hospital work--hard, honest +grappling with the problems of human pain and its relief--had made a far +nobler man of him. So now, in this solitary hour, he looked his +trouble--courageously, chivalrously--in the face. The crash of all his +immediate hopes was bitter indeed. What matter! Let him think only of +those two poor things about to meet in France. + +As to the future, he was well aware of the emotional depths in Nelly's +nature. George Sarratt's claim upon her life and memory would now be +doubly strong. For, with that long and intimate observation of the war +which his hospital experience had brought him, Farrell was keenly aware +of the merciful fact that the mere distance which, generally speaking, +the war imposes between the man dying on the battle-field and those who +love him at home, inevitably breaks the blow. The nerves of the woman +who loses her husband or her son are, at least, not tortured by the +actual sight of his wounds and death. The suffering is spiritual, and +the tender benumbing touch of religion or patriotism, or the remaining +affections of life, has less to fight with than when the physical senses +themselves are racked with acute memories of bodily wounds and bodily +death. It is not that sorrow is less deep, or memory less tenacious; but +both are less ruinous to the person sorrowing. So, at least, Farrell had +often seen it, among even the most loving and passionate of women. +Nelly's renascence in the quiet Westmorland life had been a fresh +instance of it; and he had good reason for thinking that, but for the +tragic reappearance of George Sarratt, it would not have taken very +long,--a few months more, perhaps--before she would have been persuaded +to let herself love, and be loved again. + +But now, every fibre in her delicate being--physical and +spiritual--would be racked by the sight of Sarratt's suffering and +death. And no doubt--pure, scrupulous little soul!--she would be +tormented by the thought of what had just passed between herself and +him, before the news from France arrived. He might as well look that in +the face. + +Well!--patience and time--there was nothing else to look to. He braced +himself to both, as he sped homeward through the high snowy roads, and +dropped through sleeping Keswick to Bassenthwaite and Carton. Then with +the sight of the hospital, the Red Cross flag drooping above its +doorway, as he drove up to it, the burden and interest of his great +responsibilities returned upon him. He jumped out to say a few cheery +words of thanks to his chauffeur, and went on with a rapid step to his +office on the ground floor, where he found important letters and +telegrams awaiting him. He dealt with them till far into the night. But +the thought of Nelly never really left him; nor that haunting physical +memory of her soft head upon his shoulder. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Of the weary hours which intervened between her meeting with Cicely and +Marsworth at Windermere station and her sight of Dr. Howson on the +rain-beaten quay at Bolougne, Nelly Sarratt could afterwards have given +no clear account. Of all the strings that were pulled, and the exalted +persons invoked, in order to place her as quickly as possible by the +side of her dying husband, she knew practically nothing. Cicely and +Marsworth, with Farrell to help them at the other end of a telegraph +wire, did everything. Passports and special permits were available in a +minimum of time. In the winter dawn at Euston Station, there was the +grey-headed Miss Eustace waiting; and two famous Army doctors journeyed +to Charing Cross a few hours later, on purpose to warn the wife of the +condition in which she was likely to find her husband, and to give her +kindly advice as to how she could help him most. The case had already +made a sensation at the Army Medical Headquarters; the reports on it +from France were being eagerly followed; and when the young wife +appeared from the north, her pathetic beauty quickened the general +sympathy. Nelly's path to France was smoothed in every possible way. No +Royalty could have been more anxiously thought for. + +But she herself realised scarcely anything about it. It was her nature +to be grateful, sweet, responsive; but her gratitude and her sweetness +during these hours were automatic, unconscious. She was the spectator, +so to speak, of a moving picture which carried her on with it, in which +she was merely passive. The crowded boat, the grey misty sea, the +destroyers to right and left, she was aware of them in one connection +only--as part of the process by which she and George were to meet again. + +But at last the boat was alongside the quays of the French port, and +through sheets of rain she saw the lights of a climbing town, and the +gleaming roadways of the docks. Crowds of men in khaki; a park of big +guns, their wet nozzles glittering under the electric lamps overhead; +hundreds of tethered horses; a long line of motor lorries;--the scene to +her was all a vague confusion, as Cicely, efficient and masterful as +usual, made a way for them both along the deck of the steamer through +close ranks of soldiers--a draft waiting their orders to disembark. Then +as they stepped on land, perception sharpened in a moment. A tall man in +khaki--whom she recognised as Dr. Howson--came eagerly forward. + +'Mrs. Sarratt!--I hope you're not too tired. Would you rather get some +food here, in the town, or push on at once?' + +'At once, please. How is he?' + +A pair of kind grey eyes looked down upon her sadly. + +'Very ill, _-very_ ill!--_but_ quite sensible. I know you will be +brave.' + +He carried her along the quay--while Cicely was taken possession of by a +nurse in uniform, who talked rapidly in an undertone. + +'I have two cars,' said Howson to Nelly--'You and I will go first. Our +head Sister, Miss Parrish, who has been in charge of the case for so +long, will bring Miss Farrell.' + +And as they reached the two waiting motors, Nelly found her hand grasped +by a comely elderly woman, in a uniform of grey and red. + +'He was quite comfortable when we left him, Mrs. Sarratt. There's a +wonderful difference, even since yesterday, in his _mind_. He's +beginning to remember everything. He knows you're coming. He said--"Give +her my dear love, and tell her I'm not going to have my supper till she +comes. She shall give it me." Think of that! It's like a miracle. Three +weeks ago, he never spoke, he knew nobody.' + +Nelly's white face trembled, but she said nothing. Howson put her into +the foremost car, and they were soon off, threading their way through +the busy streets of the base, while the Sister followed with Cicely. + +'Oh, it was _cruel_ not to let Mrs. Sarratt know earlier!' said the +Sister indignantly, in answer to a hurried question from Cicely as soon +as they were alone. 'She might have had three weeks with him, and now +there can only be a day or two. What was Miss Cookson about? Even if she +were just mistaken, she might at least have brought her sister over to +see for herself--instead of preventing it by every means in her power. A +most extraordinary woman!' + +Cicely felt her way in reply. She really knew nothing except what +Farrell had been able hurriedly to say to Marsworth at Windermere +station--which had been afterwards handed on to her. Farrell himself was +entirely mystified. 'The only motive I can suggest'--he had said to +Marsworth--'is that Miss Cookson had an insane dislike of her +brother-in-law. But, even so, why did she do it?' + +Why, indeed? Cicely now heard the whole story from her companion; and +her shrewd mind very soon began to guess at reasons. She had always +observed Bridget's complaisance towards her brother, and even towards +herself--a clumsy complaisance which had never appealed at all either to +her or him. And she had noticed many small traits and incidents that +seemed to shew that Bridget had resented her sister's marriage, and felt +bitterly that Nelly might have done far better for herself. Also that +there was a strong taste for personal luxury in Bridget, which seemed +entirely lacking in Nelly. + +'She wanted Willy's money!'--thought Cicely--'and couldn't get it for +herself. So when poor Sarratt disappeared, she saw a way of getting it +through Nelly. Not a bad idea!--if you are to have ideas of that kind. +But then, why behave like an idiot when Providence had done the thing +for you?' + +That was really the puzzle. George Sarratt was dying. Why not let poor +Nelly have her last weeks with him in peace, and then--in time--marry +her safely and lawfully to Willy? + +But Cicely had again some inkling of Bridget's probable reply. She had +not been intimate with Nelly for more than a year without realising that +she was one of those creatures--so rare in our modern world--who do in +truth live and die by their affections. The disappearance of her husband +had very nearly killed her. In the first winter after he was finally +reported as 'Missing--believed killed,' and when she had really +abandoned hope, the slightest accident--a bad chill--an attack of +childish illness--any further shock--might have slit the thin-spun life +in a few days or weeks. The Torquay doctor had told Hester that she was +on the brink of tuberculosis, and if she were exposed to infection would +certainly develop it. Since then she had gained greatly in vitality and +strength. If only Fate had left her alone! 'With happiness and Willy, +she'd have been all right!' thought Cicely, who was daily accustomed to +watch the effect of mind on body in her brother's hospital. But now, +with this fresh and deeper tragedy before her--tearing at the poor +little heart--crushing the life again out of the frail being--why, the +prospects of a happy ending were decidedly less. The odious Bridget +might after all have acted intelligibly, though abominably. + +As to the history of Sarratt's long disappearance, Cicely found that +very little was known. + +'We don't question him,' said the Sister. 'It only exhausts him; and it +wouldn't be any good. He may tell his wife something more, of his own +accord, but we doubt whether he knows much more than he told Dr. Howson. +He remembers being wounded at Loos--lying out undiscovered, he thinks +for two days--then a German hospital--and a long, long journey. And +that's practically all. But just lately--this week, actually!--Dr. +Howson has got some information, through a family of peasants living +near Cassel, behind the British lines. They have relations across the +Belgian border, and gradually they have discovered who the man was who +came over the frontier with Mr. Sarratt. He came from a farm, somewhere +between Brussels and Courtrai, and now they've managed to get a letter +through from his brother. You know the man himself was shot just as they +reached the British lines. But this letter really tells a good deal. The +brother says that they found Mr. Sarratt almost dead,--and, as they +thought, insane--in a wood near their house. He was then wearing the +uniform of a British officer. They guessed he was an escaped prisoner, +and they took him in and hid him. Then news filtered through to them of +two English officers who had made their escape from a hospital train +somewhere south-west of Brussels; one slightly wounded, and one +severely; the severely wounded man suffering also from shell-shock. And +the slightly wounded man was shot, while the other escaped. The train, +it was said, was lying in a siding at the time--at the further edge of +the forest bordering their farm. So, of course, they identified the man +discovered by them as the severely wounded officer. Mr. Sarratt must +have somehow just struggled through to their side of the forest, where +they found him. + +'What happened then, we can't exactly trace. He must have been there all +the winter. He was deaf and dumb, from nerve-shock, and could give no +account of himself at all. The men of the farm, two unmarried sons, were +good to him, but their old mother, whose family was German, always hated +his being there. She was in terror of the German military police who +used to ride over the farm, and one day, when her sons were away, she +took Mr. Sarratt's uniform, his identification disk, and all the +personal belongings she could find, and either burned or buried them. +The sons, who were patriotic Belgians, were however determined to +protect him, and no doubt there may have been some idea of a reward, if +they could find his friends. But they were afraid of their tyrannical +old mother, and of what she might do. So at last they made up their +minds to try somehow and get him over the French frontier, which was +not far off, and through the German lines. One of the brothers, whose +name was Benoit Desalles, to whom they say poor Mr. Sarratt was much +attached, went with him. They must have had an awful time, walking by +night, and hiding by day. Mr. Sarratt's wounds must have been in a bad +state, for they were only half healed when he escaped, and they had been +neglected all the winter. So how he dragged himself the distance he did, +the doctors can't imagine. And the peasants near the frontier from whom +we have got what information we have, have no knowledge at all of how he +and his Belgian guide finally got through the German lines. But when +they reached our lines, they were both, as Dr. Howson wrote to Miss +Cookson, in German uniforms. His people suppose that Benoit had stripped +some German dead, and that in the confusion caused in the German +line--at a point where it ran through a Belgian village--by a British +raid, at night, they got across the enemy trenches. And no doubt Benoit +had local knowledge which helped. + +'Then in the No Man's Land, between the lines, they were under both +shell and rifle-fire, till it was seen by our men that Benoit had his +hands up, and that the other was wounded. The poor Belgian was dragging +Mr. Sarratt who was unconscious, and at last--wasn't it ill-luck?--just +as our men were pulling them into the trench, Benoit was shot through +the head by a German sniper. That, at least, is how we now reconstruct +the story. As far as Mr. Sarratt is concerned, we let it alone. We have +no heart to worry him. Poor fellow--poor, gallant, patient fellow!' + +And the Sister's strong face softened, as Bridget had seen it soften at +Sarratt's bedside. + +'And there is really no hope for him?' asked Cicely after a time. The +Sister shook her head. + +'The wounds have never healed--and they drain his life away. The heart +can't last out much longer. But he's not in pain now--thank God! It's +just weakness. I assure you, everybody--almost--in this huge camp, asks +for him and many--pray for him.' The Sister's eyes filled with tears. +'And now that the poor wife's come in time, there'll be an excitement! I +heard two men in one of our wards discussing it this morning. "They do +say as Mrs. Sarratt will be here to-day," said one of them. "Well, +that's a bit of all right, ain't it?" said the other, and they both +smoked away, looking as pleased as Punch. You see Miss Cookson's +behaviour has made the whole thing so extraordinary.' + +Cicely agreed. + +'I suppose she thought it would be all over in a day or two,' she said, +half-absently. + +The Sister looked puzzled. + +'And that it would be better not to risk the effect on his wife? Of +course Mrs. Sarratt does look dreadfully delicate. So you _don't_ think +it was a mistake? It's very difficult to see how it could be! The hands +alone--one would think that anybody who really knew him must have +recognised them.' + +Cicely said no more. But she wondered how poor Nelly and her sister +would ever find it possible to meet again. + +Meanwhile, in the car ahead, Howson was gently and tenderly preparing +the mind of Nelly for her husband's state. He described to her also, the +first signs of Sarratt's returning consciousness--the excitement among +his doctors and nurses--the anxious waiting for the first words--the +first clear evidence of restored hearing. And then, at last, the dazed +question--'Where am I?'--and the perplexed effort to answer +Howson's--'Can you tell us your name and regiment?' + +Howson described the breathless waiting of himself and another doctor, +and then the slow coming of the words: 'My name is George Sarratt, +Lieutenant, 21st Lanchesters. But why----?' + +A look of bewilderment at nurses and doctors, and then again--sleep. + +'The next time he spoke, it was quite distinctly and of his own accord. +The nurse heard him saying softly--it was in the early morning--"I want +my wife--send for her." She told him you had been already sent for, and +he turned his head round at once and went to sleep.' + +Howson could hardly go on, so keenly did he realise the presence of the +woman beside him. The soft fluttering breath unmanned him. But by +degrees Nelly heard all there was to know; especially the details of +the rapid revival of hearing, speech, and memory, which had gone on +through the preceding three days. + +'And what is such a blessing,' said Howson, with the cheerfulness of the +good doctor--'is that he seems to be quite peaceful--quite at rest. He's +not unhappy. He's just waiting for you. They'll have given him an +injection of strychnine this evening to help him through.' + +'How long?' The words were just breathed into the darkness. + +'A day or two certainly--perhaps a week,' he said reluctantly. 'It's a +question of strength. Sometimes it lasts much longer than we expect.' + +He said nothing to her of her sister's visit. Instinctively he suspected +some ugly meaning in that story. And Nelly asked no questions. + +Suddenly, she was aware of lights in the darkness, and then of a great +camp marked out in a pattern of electric lamps, stretching up and away +over what seemed a wide and sloping hillside. Nelly put down the window +to see. + +'Is it here?' 'No. A little further on.' + +It seemed to her interminably further. The car rattled over the rough +pavement of a town, then through the darkness of woods--threading its +way through a confusion of pale roads--until, with a violent bump, it +came to a stop. + +In the blackness of the November night, the chauffeur, mistaking the +entrance to a house, had run up a back lane and into a sand-bank. + +'Do you hear the sea?' said Howson, as he helped Nelly to alight. +'There'll be wind to-night. But here we are.' + +She looked round her as they walked through a thin wood. To her right +beyond the bare trees was a great building with a glass front. She could +see lights within--the passing figures of nurses--rows of beds--and men +in bed jackets--high rooms frescoed in bright colours. + +'That used to be the Casino. Now it's a Red Cross Hospital. There are +always doctors there. So when we moved him away from the camp, we took +this little house close to the Hospital. The senior surgeon there can be +often in and out. He's looking after him splendidly.' + +A small room in a small house, built for summer lodgings by the sea; +bare wooden walls and floor; a stove; open windows through which came +the slow boom of waves breaking on a sandy shore; a bed, and in it an +emaciated figure, propped up. + +Nelly, as the door closed behind her, broke into a run like the soft +flight of a bird, and fell on her knees beside the bed. She had taken +off her hat and cloak. Excitement had kindled two spots of red in her +pale cheeks. The man in the bed turned his eyes towards her, and smiled. + +'Nelly!' + +Howson and the Sister went on tiptoe through a side door into another +room. + +'Kiss me, Nelly!' + +Nelly, trembling, put her soft lips to his. But as she did so, a chill +anguish struck her--the first bitterness of the naked truth. As yet she +had only seen it through a veil, darkly. Was this her George--this +ghost, grey-haired, worn out, on the brink of the unknown? The old +passionate pressure of the mouth gone--for ever! Her young husband--her +young lover--she saw him far back in the past, on Rydal lake, the +dripping oars in his hand. This was a spirit which touched her--a +spiritual love which shone upon her. And she had never yet known so +sharp an agony. + +So sharp it was that it dried all tears. She knelt there with his hands +in hers, kissing them, and gazing at him. + +'Nelly, it's hard luck! Darling, I'd better have been patient. In time, +perhaps, I should have come back to you. How I got away--who planned +it--I don't remember. I remember nothing--of all that time. But Howson +has heard something, through some people near Cassel--has he told you?' + +'Yes--but don't try to remember.' + +He smiled at her. How strange the old sweetness on these grey lips! + +'Have you missed me--dreadfully? Poor little Nelly! You're very pale--a +little shadow! Darling!--I _would_ like to live!' + +And at that--at last--the eyes of both, as they gazed at each other, +filled with tears. Tears for the eternal helplessness of man,--the +'tears of things.' + +But he roused himself, snatching still at a little love, a little +brightness--before the dark. The strychnine injected had given him +strength. + +'Give me that jelly--and the champagne. Feed me, Nelly! But have you had +any food?' + +The stress laid on the '_you_' the tone of his voice, were so like his +old self that Nelly caught her breath. A ray of mad hope stole in. She +began to feed him, and as she did so, the Sister, as though she had +heard Sarratt's question, came quietly in with a tray on which was some +food for Nelly, and put it down beside her. Then she disappeared again. + +With difficulty, Sarratt swallowed a few mouthfuls of jelly and +champagne. Then his left hand--the right was helpless--made a faint but +peremptory sign, and Nelly obediently took some food under his dimly +smiling eyes. + +'I have thought of this so often,' he murmured--I knew you'd come. It's +been like someone walking through a dark passage that was getting +lighter. Only once--I had a curious dream. I thought I saw Bridget' + +Nelly, trembling, took away his tray and her own, and then knelt down +again beside him. She kissed his forehead, and tried to divert his +thoughts by asking him if he was warm enough. His hands were very cold. +Should she make up the fire? + +'Oh, no,--it's all right. But wasn't it strange? Suddenly, I seemed to +be looking at her--quite close--and she at me. And I was worried because +I had seen her more distinctly than I could remember you. Come +nearer--put your dear head against me. Oh, if I could only hold you, as +I used to!' + +There was silence a little. But the wine had flushed him, and when the +bloodless lids lifted again, there was more life in the eyes. + +'Nelly, poor darling, have you been very lonely?--Were the Farrells kind +to you?' + +'Yes, George, very kind. They did everything--everything they could.' + +'Sir William promised me'--he said, gratefully. 'And where have you been +all the time? At Rydal?' + +'No. I was ill--after the news came----' + +'Poor Nelly!' + +'And Sir William lent us one of his farms--near his cottage--do you +remember?' + +'A little. That was kind of him--very kind. Nelly--I want to send him a +message----' + +'Yes.' + +'Give him my grateful thanks, darling,--and--and--my blessing.' + +Nelly hid her face against him, and he felt the convulsion of tearless +sobbing that passed through her. + +'Poor Nelly!'--he said again, touching her hand tenderly. Then after +another pause--'Sit there, darling, where I can see you--your dear head, +and your eyes, and your pretty neck. You must go to bed soon, you +know--but just a little while! Now tell me what you have been doing. +Talk to me. I won't talk. I'll rest--but I shall hear. That's so +wonderful--that I _can_ hear you. I've been living in such a queer +world--no tongue--no ears--no mind, hardly--only my eyes.' + +She obeyed him by a great effort. She talked to him--of what, she hardly +knew!--about her months in London and Torquay--: about her illness--the +farm--Hester Martin--and Cicely. + +When she came to speak of her friendship with Cicely, he smiled in +surprise, his eyes still shut. + +'That's jolly, dearest. You remember, I didn't like her. She wasn't at +all nice to you--once. But thank her for me--please.' + +'She's here now, George, she brought me here. She wouldn't let me come +alone.' + +'God bless her!' he said, under his breath. 'I'll see her--to-morrow. +Now go on talking. You won't mind if I go to sleep? They won't let you +stop here, dear. You'll be upstairs. But you'll come early--won't you?' + +They gave him morphia, and he went to sleep under her eyes. Then the +night nurse came in, and the surgeon from the hospital opposite, with +Howson. And Cicely took Nelly away. + +Cicely had made everything ready in the little bare room upstairs. But +when she had helped Nelly to undress, she did not linger. + +'Knock on the wall, if you want me. It is only wood, I shall hear +directly.' + +Nelly kissed her and she went. For nothing in her tender service that +day was Nelly more grateful to her. + +Then Nelly put out her light, and drawing up the blind, she sat for long +staring into the moonlight night. The rain had stopped, but the wind was +high over the sea, which lay before her a tumbled mass of waves, not a +hundred yards away. To her right was the Casino, a subdued light shining +through the blinds of its glass verandahs, behind which she sometimes +saw figures passing--nurses and doctors on their various errands. Were +there men dying there to-night--like her George? + +The anguish that held her, poor child, was no simple sorrow. Never--she +knew it doubly now--had she ceased to love her husband. She had told +Farrell the truth--'If George now were to come in at that door, there +would be no other man in the world for me!' And yet, while George was +dying, and at the very moment that he was asking for her, she had been +in Farrell's arms, and yielding to his kisses. George would never know; +but that only made her remorse the more torturing. She could never +confess to him--that indeed was her misery. He would die, and her +unfaith would stand between them for ever. + +A cleverer, a more experienced, a more practical woman, in such a case, +would have found a hundred excuses and justifications for herself that +never occurred to Nelly Sarratt, to this young immature creature, in +whom the passionate love of her marriage had roused feelings and +emotions, which, when the man on whom they were spent was taken from +her, were still the master-light of all her seeing--still so strong and +absorbing, that, in her widowed state, they were like blind forces +searching unconsciously for some new support, some new thing to love. +She had nearly died for love--and then when her young strength revived +it had become plain that she could only live for love. Her hands had met +the hands seeking hers, inevitably, instinctively. To refuse, to stand +aloof, to cause pain--that had been the torment, the impossibility, for +one who had learnt so well how to give and to make happy. There was in +it no sensual element--only Augustine's 'love of loving.' Yet her +stricken conscience told her that, in her moral indecision, if the +situation had lasted much longer, she had not been able to make up her +mind to marry Farrell quickly, she might easily have become his +mistress, through sheer weakness, sheer dread of his suffering, sheer +longing to be loved. + +Explanations and excuses, for any more seasoned student of human nature, +emerged on every hand. Nelly in her despair allowed herself none of +them. It merely seemed to her, in this night vigil, that she was +unworthy to touch her George, to nurse him, to uphold him; utterly +unworthy of all this reverent pity and affection that was being lavished +upon her for his sake. + +She sat up most of the night, wrapped in her fur cloak, alive to any +sound from the room below. And about four in the morning, she stole down +the stairs to listen at his door. There one of the nurses found her, and +moved with pity, brought her in. They settled her in an arm-chair near +him; and then with the tardy coming of the November day, she watched the +sad waking that was so many hours nearer death, at that moment when +man's life is at its wretchedest, and all the forces of the underworld +seem to be let loose upon it. + +And there, for five days and nights, with the briefest possible +intervals for food, and the sleep of exhaustion, she sat beside him. She +was dimly conscious of the people about her, of the boundless tenderness +and skill that was poured out upon the poor sufferer at her side; she +did everything for George that the nurses could shew her how to do--; it +was the one grain of personal desire left in her, and doctors and nurses +developed the most ingenious pity in devising things for her to do, and +in letting every remedy that soothed his pain, or cleared his mind, go, +as far as possible, through her hands. And there were moments when she +would walk blindly along the sea beach with Cicely, finding a stimulus +to endure in the sharpness of the winter wind, or looking in vague +wonder at the great distant camp, with its streets of hospitals, its +long lines of huts, its training-grounds, and the bodies of men at work +upon them. Here, the war came home to her, as a vast machine by which +George, like millions of others, had been caught and crushed. She +shuddered to think of it. + +At intervals Sarratt still spoke a good deal, though rarely after their +third day together. He asked her once--'Dear, did you ever send for my +letter?' She paused a moment to think. 'You mean the letter you left for +me--in case?' He made a sign of assent, and then smiled into the face +bending over him. 'Read it again, darling. I mean it all now, as I did +then.' She could only kiss him softly--without tears. After the first +day she never cried. + +On the last night of his life, when she thought that all speech was +over, and that she would never hear his voice, or see a conscious look, +again, he opened his eyes suddenly, and she heard--'I love you, +sweetheart! I love you, sweetheart!' twice over. That was the last +sound. Towards midnight he died. + +Next morning Cicely wrote to Farrell:-- + +'We are coming home to-morrow after they bury him in the cemetery here. +Please get Hester--_whatever she may be doing_--to throw it up, and come +and meet us. She is the only person who can help Nelly now for a bit +Nelly pines for Rydal--where they were together. She would go to +Hester's cottage. Tell Hester. + +'Why, old boy, do such things happen? That's what I keep asking--not +being a saint, like these dear nurses here, who really have been +angelic. I am the only one who rebels. George Sarratt was so patient--so +terribly patient! And Nelly is just crushed--for the moment, though I +sometimes expect to see a strange energy in her before long. But I keep +knocking my head all day, and part of the night--the very small part +that I'm not asleep--against the questions that everybody seems to have +asked since the world began--and I know that I am a fool, and go on +doing it. + +'George Sarratt, I think, was a simple Christian, and died like one. He +seemed to like the Chaplain, which was a comfort. How much any of that +means to Nelly I don't know.' + +She also wrote to Marsworth:-- + +'Meet us, please, at Charing Cross. I have no spirit to answer your last +letters as they deserve. But I give you notice that I don't thrive on +too sweet a diet--and praise is positively bad for me. It wrinkles me up +the wrong way. + +'What can be done about that incredible sister? She ought to know that +Nelly is determined not to see her. Just think!--they might have had +nearly a month together, and she cut it down to five days! + +('Dear Herbert, say anything you like, and the sweeter the better!) + +'Yours, + +'CICELY.' + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +'Well--what news?' said Farrell abruptly. For Cicely had come into his +library with a letter in her hand. The library was a fine +eighteenth-century room still preserved intact amid the general +appropriation of the big house by the hospital, and when he was not busy +in his office, it was his place of refuge. + +Cicely perched herself on the edge of his writing-table. + +'Hester has brought her to Rydal all right,' she said cheerfully. + +'How is she?' + +'As you might expect. But Hester says she talks of nothing but going to +work. She has absolutely set her heart upon it, and there is no moving +her.' + +'It is, of course, an absurdity,' said Farrell, frowning. + +'Absurdity or not, she means to do it, and Hester begs that nobody will +try to persuade her against it. She has promised Hester to stay with her +for three weeks, and then she has already made her arrangements.' + +'What is she going to do?' + +'She is going to a hospital near Manchester. They want a V.A.D. +housemaid.' + +Farrell rose impatiently, and stretching out his hand for his pipe, +began to pace the room, steeped evidently in disagreeable reflection. + +'You know as well as I do'--he said at last--that she hasn't the +physical strength for it.' + +'Well then she'll break down, and we can put her to bed. But try she +will, and I entirely approve of it,' said Cicely firmly. 'Hard physical +work--till you drop--till you're so tired, you must go to sleep--that's +the only thing when you're as miserable as poor Nelly. You know it is, +Will. Don't you remember that poor Mrs. Henessy whose son died here? Her +letters to me afterwards used to be all about scrubbing. If she could +scrub from morning till night, she could just get along. She scrubbed +herself sane again. The bigger the floor, the better she liked it. When +bedtime came, she just slept like a log. And at last she got all right. +But it was touch-and-go when she left here.' + +'She was a powerfully-built woman,' said Farrell gloomily. + +'Oh, well, it isn't always the strapping ones that come through. Anyway, +old boy, I'm afraid you can't do anything to alter it.' + +She looked at him a little askance. It was perfectly understood between +them that Cicely was more or less acquainted with her brother's plight, +and since her engagement to Marsworth had been announced it was +astonishing how much more ready Farrell had been to confide in her, and +she to be confided in. + +But for her few days in France, however, with Nelly Sarratt, Marsworth +might still have had some wrestles to go through with Cicely. At the +very moment when Farrell's telephone message arrived, imploring her to +take charge of Nelly on her journey, Cicely was engaged in fresh +quarrelling with her long-suffering lover. But the spectacle of +Sarratt's death, and Nelly's agony, together with her own quick +divination of Nelly's inner mind, had worked profoundly on Cicely, and +Marsworth had never shewn himself a better fellow than in his complete +sympathy with her, and his eager pity for the Sarratts. 'I haven't the +heart to tease him'--Cicely had said candidly after her return to +England. 'He's been so horribly nice to me!' And the Petruchio having +once got the upper hand, the Katherine was--like her prototype--almost +overdoing it. The corduroy trousers, Russian boots, the flame-coloured +jersey actually arrived. Cicely looked at them wistfully and locked them +up. As to the extravagances that still remained, in hats, or skirts, or +head-dressing, were they to be any further reduced, Marsworth would +probably himself implore her not to be too suddenly reasonable. For, +without them, Cicely would be only half Cicely. + +But his sister's engagement, perhaps, had only made Farrell feel more +sharply than ever the collapse of his own hopes. Three days after +Sarratt's death Nelly had written to him to give him George's dying +message, and to thank him on her own account for all that he had done +to help her journey. The letter was phrased as Nelly could not help +phrasing anything she wrote. Cicely, to whom Nelly dumbly shewed it, +thought it 'sweet.' But on Farrel's morbid state, it struck like ice, +and he had the greatest difficulty in writing a letter of sympathy, such +as any common friend must send her, in return. Every word seemed to him +either too strong or too weak. The poor Viking, indeed, had begun to +look almost middle-aged, and Cicely with a pang had discovered or +fancied some streaks of grey in the splendid red beard and curly hair. +At the same time her half-sarcastic sense perceived that he was far +better provided than Nelly, with the means of self-protection against +his trouble. 'Men always are,' thought Cicely--'they have so much more +interesting things to do.' And she compared the now famous hospital, +with its constant scientific developments, the ever-changing and +absorbing spectacle of the life within it, and Farrell's remarkable +position amid its strenuous world--with poor Nelly's 'housemaiding.' + +But Nelly was choosing the path that suited her own need, and in the +spiritual world, the humblest means may be the best. It was when she was +cooking for her nuns that some of St. Teresa's divinest ecstasies came +upon her! Not that there was any prospect of ecstasy for Nelly Sarratt. +She seemed to herself to be engaged in a kind of surgery--the cutting or +burning away of elements in herself that she had come to scorn. Hester, +who was something of a saint herself, came near to understanding her. +Cicely could only wonder. But Hester perceived, with awe, a _fierceness_ +in Nelly--a kind of cruelty--towards herself, with which she knew well, +from a long experience of human beings, that it was no use to argue. The +little, loving, easy-going thing had discovered in her own gentleness +and weakness, the source of something despicable--that is, of her own +failure to love George as steadfastly and truly as he had loved her. The +whole memory of her marriage was poisoned for her by this bitter sense +that in little more than a year after she had lost him, while he was +actually still alive, and when the law even, let alone the highest +standards of love, had not released her, she had begun to yield to the +wooing of another man. Perhaps only chance, under all the difficult +circumstances of her intimacy with Farrell, had saved her from a +shameful yielding--from dishonour, as well as a broken faith. + +'What had brought it about?'--she asked herself. And she asked it with a +desperate will, determined to probe her own sin to the utmost. 'Soft +living!'--was her own reply--moral and physical indolence. The pleasure +of being petted and spoiled, the readiness to let others work for her, +and think for her, what people called her 'sweetness!' She turned upon +it with a burning hatred and contempt. She would scourge it out of +herself. And then perhaps some day she would be able to think of +George's last faint words with something else than remorseful +anguish--_ love you, sweetheart!--I love you, sweetheart!'_ + +During the three weeks, however, that she was with Hester, she was very +silent. She clung to Hester without words, and with much less than her +usual caressingness. She found--it was evident--a certain comfort in +solitary walks, in the simple talk of Mrs. Tyson, and 'Father Time,' who +came to see her, and scolded her for her pale cheeks with a +disrespectful vigour which brought actually a smile to her eyes. Tommy +was brought over to see her; and she sat beside him, while he lay on the +floor drawing Hoons and Haggans, at a great rate, and brimful of fresh +adventures in 'Jupe.' But he was soon conscious that his old playfellow +was not the listener she had been; and he presently stole away with a +wistful look at her. + +One evening early in December, Hester coming in from marketing in +Ambleside, found Nelly, sitting by the fire, a book open on her knee, so +absorbed in thought that she had not heard her friend's entrance. Yet +her lips seemed to be moving. Hester came softly, and knelt down beside +her. + +'Darling, I have been such a long time away!' + +Nelly drew a deep breath. + +'Oh, no I--I--I've been thinking,' + +Hester looked at the open book, and saw that it was 'The Letters of St. +Ignatius'--a cheap copy, belonging to a popular theological 'Library,' +she herself had lately bought. + +'Did that interest you, Nelly?' she asked, wondering. + +'Some of it'--said Nelly, flushing a little. And after a moment's +hesitation, she pointed to a passage under her hand:--'For I fear your +love, lest it injure me, for it is easy to do what you will; but it is +difficult for me to attain unto God, if ye insist on sparing me.' + +And suddenly Hester remembered that before going out she had entreated +Nelly to give herself another fortnight's rest before going to +Manchester. It would then be only six weeks since her husband's death. +'And if you break down, dear,'--she had ventured--'it won't only be +trouble to you--but to them '--meaning the hospital authorities. +Whereupon for the first time since her return, Nelly's eyes had filled +with tears. But she made no reply, and Hester had gone away uneasy. + +'Why will you be so hard on yourself?' she murmured, taking the lovely +childish face in her two hands and kissing it. + +Nelly gently released herself, and pointed again, mutely, to a passage +further on--the famous passage in which the saint, already in the +ecstasy of martyrdom, appeals again to the Christian church in Rome, +whether he is bound, not to save him from the wild beasts of the arena. +'I entreat you, shew not unto me an unseasonable love! Suffer me to be +the food of wild beasts, through whom it is allowed me to attain unto +God. I am the corn of God; let me be ground by the teeth of the wild +beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of Christ.... Pardon me in +this. I know what is expedient for me. I am but now beginning to be a +disciple.' + +'Nelly dear--what do you mean?' + +A faint little smile crossed Nelly's face. + +'Oh, nothing--only;--' she sighed again--'It's so _splendid_! Such a +will!--such a faith! No one thinks like that now. No one is willing to +be "the corn of God."' + +'Oh, yes they are!' said Hester, passionately. 'There are thousands of +men--and women--in this war, who are willing to do everything--suffer +everything--for others--their country--their people at home.' + +'Well, then they're happy!--and why hold anyone back?' said Nelly, with +soft reproach. And letting her head drop on Hester's shoulder, she said, +slowly-- + +'Let me go, dear Hester--let me go! It's drudgery I want--_drudgery_' +she repeated with intensity. 'Something that I don't want to +do--something that's against the grain--all day long.' Then she laughed +and roused herself. 'Not much likeness between me and St. Ignatius, is +there?' + +Hester considered her gravely. + +'When people like you are wrestling all day and every day with something +too hard for them, their strength gives way. They think they can do it, +but they can't.' + +'My strength won't give way,' said Nelly, with quiet conviction. Then, +after pausing a moment, she said with a strange ardour--'I once heard a +story--a true story--of a man, who burnt his own hand off, because it +had struck his friend. He held it in a flame till there was only the +burnt stump, and after that he forgave himself and could bear to live +again.' + +'But whom have you struck, you poor child!' cried Hester. + +'_George_!' said Nelly, looking at her with bitterly shining eyes. + +Hester's arms enfolded her, and they talked far into the night. Before +they separated, Hester had agreed that the date of Nelly's departure +should be not postponed, but quickened. + +And during the few remaining days they were together, Hester could only +notice with growing amazement the change in all the small ways and +habits that had once characterised Nelly Sarratt--especially since her +Torquay illness; the small invalidisms and self-indulgences, the +dependence on a servant or on Bridget. Now the ascetic, penitential +passion had come upon her; as it comes in different forms, upon many a +man or woman in the _selva oscura_ of their life; and Hester knew that +there was no resisting it. + +Hester went back to her 'Welfare' work. Cicely travelled between Carton +and London, collecting her trousseau and declaring that she _would_ be +married in Lent, whatever people might say. Farrell was deeply engaged +in introducing a new antiseptic treatment of an extremely costly kind +throughout his hospital, in watching the results of it, and in giving +facilities for the study of it, to the authorities and officials of all +kinds who applied to him. A sorrowful man--but a very busy one. +Marsworth was making his mark in the Intelligence Department of the War +Office, and was being freely named as the head of an important Military +Mission to one of the Allied Headquarters. What would become of Cicely +and the wedding, if the post were given him, and--as was probable--at a +day's warning--was not quite clear. Cicely, however, took it calmly. +'They can't give us less than three hours' notice--and if it's after two +o'clock, we can always get married somehow by five. You scurry round, +pay fifty pounds, and somebody at Lambeth does it. Then--I should see +him safely off in the evening!' + +Meanwhile Bridget Cookson was living in her usual Bloomsbury +boarding-house, holding herself quite aloof from the idle ways of its +inmates, who, in the midst of the world-war, were still shopping as +usual in the mornings and spending the afternoons in tea and gossip. +Bridget, however, was scarcely employing her own time to any greater +profit for a burdened country. She was learning various languages, and +attending a number of miscellaneous lectures. Her time was fairly full, +and she lived in an illusion of multifarious knowledge which flattered +her vanity. She was certainly far cleverer; and better-educated than +the other women of her boarding-house; and she was one of those persons +who throughout life prefer to live with their inferiors. 'The only +remedy against a superiority,'--says some French writer--'is to love +it.' But Bridget was so made that she could not love it; she could only +pull it down and belittle it. + +But all the same, Bridget Cookson was no monster, though she was +probably without feelings and instincts that most people possess. She +missed Nelly a good deal, more than Nelly herself would have believed. +And she thought now, that she had behaved like a fool in not recognising +Sarratt at once, and so preserving her influence with her sister. +Morally, however, she saw no great harm in what she had done. It was +arguable, at any rate. Everything was arguable. As to the effect on +Nelly of the outward and visible facts of Sarratt's death, it seemed to +have been exactly what she, Bridget, had foreseen. Through some +Manchester acquaintance she succeeded in getting occasional news of +Nelly, who was, it appeared, killing herself with hard and disagreeable +work. She heard also from the woman left in charge of the Loughrigg farm +that all Mrs. Sarratt's personal possessions had been sent to the care +of Miss Martin, and that Sir William had shut up the cottage and never +came there. Sometimes Bridget would grimly contrast this state of things +with what might have happened, had her stroke succeeded, and had George +died unrecognised. In that event how many people would have been made +happy, who were now made miserable! + +The winter passed away, the long and bitter winter which seemed to +sharpen for English hearts and nerves all the suffering of the war. On +the Somme the Germans were secretly preparing the retreat which began +with the spring, while the British armies were growing to their full +stature, month by month, and England was becoming slowly accustomed to +the new and amazing consciousness of herself as a great military power. +And meanwhile death in the trenches still took its steady toll of our +best and dearest; and at sea, while British sea-power pressed home its +stifling grasp on the life of Germany, the submarine made England +anxious, but not afraid. + +March shewed some pale gleams of spring, but April was one of the +coldest and dreariest in the memory of living man. The old earth in +sympathy with the great struggle that was devastating and searing her, +seemed to be withholding leaf and flower, and forbidding the sun to woo +her. + +Till the very first days of May! Then, with a great return upon herself, +Nature flew to work. The trees rushed into leaf, and never had there +been such a glorious leafage. Everything was late, but everything was +perfection. And nowhere was the spring loveliness more lovely than in +Westmorland. The gentle valleys of the Lakes had been muffled in snow +and scourged with hail. The winter furies had made their lairs in the +higher fells, and rushed shrieking week after week through delicate and +quiet scenes not made for them. The six months from November to May had +been for the dale-dwellers one long endurance. But in one May week all +was forgotten, and atoned for. Beauty, 'an hourly presence,' reigned +without a rival. From the purple heights that stand about Langdale and +Derwentwater, to the little ferns and mountain plants that crept on +every wall, or dipped in every brook, the mountain land was all alive +and joyful. The streams alone made a chorus for the gods. + +Hester, who was now a woman of sixty, had reluctantly admitted, by the +middle of the month, that, after a long winter spent in a munition +factory and a Lancashire town, employed on the most strenuous work that +she, an honest worker all her life, had ever known, a fortnight's +holiday was reasonable. And she wrote to Nelly Sarratt, just as she was +departing northwards, to say--cunningly--that she was very tired and run +down, and would Nelly come and look after her for a little? It was the +first kindness she had ever asked of Nelly, to whom she had done so +many. Nelly telegraphed in reply that in two days she would be at Rydal. + +Hester spent the two days in an expectation half-eager, half-anxious. It +had been agreed between them that in their correspondence the subject of +Nelly's health was to be tabooed. In case of a serious breakdown, the +Commandant of Nelly's hospital would write. Otherwise there were to be +no enquiries and no sympathy. Cicely Marsworth before her marriage in +early March had seen Nelly twice and had reported--against the +grain--that although 'most unbecomingly thin,' the obstinate little +creature said she was well, and apparently was well. Everybody in the +hospital, said Cicely, was at Nelly's feet. 'It is of course nonsense +for her to lay down, that she won't be petted, Nature has settled that +for her. However, I am bound to say it is the one thing that makes her +angry, and the nurses are all amazed at what she has been able to stand. +There is a half-blind boy, suffering from "shock" in one of the wards, +to whom they say she has devoted herself for months. She has taught him +to speak again, and to walk, and the nerve-specialist who has been +looking after the poor fellow told her he would trust her with his worst +cases, if only she would come and nurse for him. That did seem to please +her. She flushed up a little when she told me. Otherwise she has become +_horribly impersonal_! Her wings are growing rapidly. But oh, Hester, I +did and do prefer the old Nelly to any angel I've ever known. If I +hadn't married Herbert, I should like to spend all my time in _tempting +her_--the poor darling!--as the devil--who was such a fool!--tempted St. +Anthony. I know plenty of saints; but I know only one little, soft +kissable Nelly. She shan't be taken from us!' + +_So horribly impersonal_! What did Cicely mean? + +Well, Cicely--with the object described in full view--would soon be +able to tell her. For the Marsworths were coming to Carton for a week, +before starting for Rome, and would certainly come over to her to say +good-bye. As to William--would it really be necessary to leave him +behind? Nelly must before long brace herself to see him again, as an +ordinary friend. He had meant no harm--and done no harm--poor William! +Hester was beginning secretly to be his warm partisan. + +Twenty-four hours later, Nelly arrived. As Hester received her from the +coach, and walked with her arm round the tiny waist to the cottage by +the bend of the river, where tea beside the sun-flecked stream was set +for the traveller, the older friend was at once startled and reassured. +Reassured--because, after these six months, Nelly could laugh once more, +and her step was once more firm and normal; and startled, by the new and +lonely independence she perceived in her frail visitor. Nelly was in +black again, with a small black hat from which her widow's veil fell +back over her shoulders. The veil, the lawn collar and cuffs, together +with her childish slightness, and the curls on her temples and brow that +she had tried in vain to straighten, made her look like a little girl +masquerading. And yet, in truth, what struck her hostess was the sad +maturity for which she seemed to have exchanged her old clinging ways. +She spoke, for the first time, as one who was mistress of her own life +and its issues; with a perfectly clear notion of what there was for her +to do. She had made up her mind, she told Hester, to take work offered +her in one of the new special hospitals for nervous cases which were the +product of the war. 'They think I have a turn for it, and they are going +to train me. Isn't it kind and dear of them?' + +'But I am told it is the most exhausting form of nursing there is,' said +Hester wondering. 'Are you quite sure you can stand it?' + +'Try me!' said Nelly, with a strange brightness of look. Then reaching +out a hand she slipped it contentedly into her friend's. 'Hester!--isn't +it strange what we imagine about ourselves--and what is really true? I +thought the first weeks that I was in hospital, I _must_ break down. I +never dreamt that anyone could feel so tired--so deadly ill--and yet go +on. And then one began, little by little, to get hardened,--of course +I'm only now beginning to feel that!--and it seems like being born +again, with a quite new body, that one can make--yes, _make_--do as one +likes. That's what the soldiers tell me--about _their_ training. And +they wonder at it, as I do.' + +'My dear, you're horribly thin,' interrupted Hester. + +'Oh, not too thin!' said Nelly, complacently. + +Then she lifted up her eyes suddenly, and saw the lake in a dazzle of +light, and Silver How, all purple, as of old; yet another family of wild +duck swimming where the river issued from the lake; and just beyond, the +white corner of the house where she and George had spent their few days +of bliss. Slowly, the eyes filled with brimming tears. She threw off +her hat and veil, and slipping to the grass, she laid her head against +her friend's knee, and there was a long silence. + +Hester broke it at last. + +'I want you to come a little way up the fell, and look at a daffodil +field. We'll leave a message, and Cicely can follow us there.' And then +she added, not without trepidation--'and I asked her to bring William, +if he had time.' + +Nelly was silent a moment, and then said quietly---'Thank you. I'm glad +you did.' + +They left the garden and wandered through some rocky fields on the side +of the fell, till they came to one where Linnaeus or any other pious +soul might well have gone upon his knees for joy. Some loving hand had +planted it with daffodils--the wild Lent lily of the district, though +not now very plentiful about the actual lakes. And the daffodils had +come back rejoicing to their kingdom, and made it their own again. They +ran in lines and floods, in troops and skirmishers, all through the +silky grass, and round the trunks of the old knotted oaks, that hung as +though by one foot from the emerging rocks and screes. Above, the bloom +of the wild cherries made a wavering screen of silver between the +daffodils and the May sky; amid the blossom the golden-green of the oaks +struck a strong riotous note; and far below, at their feet, the lake lay +blue, with all the sky within it, and the softness of the larch-woods on +its banks. + +Nelly dropped into the grass among the daffodils. One could not have +called her the spirit of the spring--the gleeful, earthly spring--as it +would have been natural to do, in her honeymoon days. And yet, as Hester +watched her, she seemed in her pale, changed beauty to be in some +strange harmony with that grave, renewing, fruitful heart of all things, +whereof the daffodils and the cherry-blossom were but symbols. + +Presently there were voices beneath them--climbing voices that came +nearer--of a man and a woman. Nelly's hand begun to pluck restlessly at +the grass beside her. + +Cicely emerged first, Cicely in white, very bridal, and very happy. Very +conscious too, though she did not betray it by a movement or a look, of +the significance of this first meeting, since Sarratt's death, between +her brother and Nelly. But they met very simply. Nelly went a little way +down the steep to meet them. She kissed Cicely, and gave Farrell her +hand. + +'It was very good of you to come.' + +But then it seemed to Hester, who could not help watching it, that +Nelly's face, as she stood there looking gravely at Farrell, shewed a +sudden trouble and agitation. It was gone very quickly, however, and she +and he walked on together along a green path skirting the fells, and +winding through the daffodils and the hawthorns. + +Cicely and Hester followed, soon perceiving that the two ahead had +slipped into animated conversation. + +'What can it be about?' said Cicely, in Hester's ear. + +'I heard the word "Charcot,"' said Hester. + +The bride listened deliberately. + +'And William's talking about an article in the _Lancet_ he's been boring +Herbert and me with, by that very specialist that Nelly's so keen +about,--the man that is going to have her trained to nurse his cases. +Something about the new treatment of "shock." I say, Hester, what an odd +sort of fresh beginning!' + +Cicely turned a look half grave, half laughing on her companion--adding +hastily-- + +'The specialist's married!' + +Hester frowned a little. + +'Beginning of what?' + +'Oh, I don't know,' said Cicely, with a shrug, 'But life is long, +Mademoiselle Hester, and now they've got a common interest--outside +themselves. They can talk about _things_--not feelings. Goodness!--did +you hear that? William is head over ears in his new antiseptic--and look +at Nelly--she's quite pink! That's what I meant by her being _horribly +impersonal_. She used the word "scientific" to me, three times, when I +went to see her--_Nelly_!' + +'If she's impersonal, I should doubt whether William is,' said Hester +drily. + +'Ah, no--poor Willy!' was Cicely's musing reply. 'It's a hard time for +him. I don't believe she's ever out of his mind. Or at least, she +wouldn't be, if it weren't for his work. That's the blessed part--for +both of them. And now you see--it gives them such a deal to talk +about'--her gesture indicated the couple in front. 'It's like two sore +surfaces, isn't it, that mustn't touch--you want something between.' + +'All the same, William mustn't set his heart--' + +'And Hester--dear old thing!--mustn't preach!' said Cicely laughing, and +pinching her cousin's arm. 'What's the good of saying that, about a man +like William, who knows what he wants? Of course he's set his heart, and +will go on setting it. But he'll _wait_--as long as she likes.' + +'It'll be a long time.' + +'All right! They're neither of them Methuselahs yet. Heavens!--What are +they at now? _Ambrine_!--_she's_ talking to _him_' + +But some deep mingled instinct, at once of sympathy with Nelly and pity +for Farrell, made Hester unwilling to discuss the subject any more. +George's death was too recent; peace and a happy future too remote. So +she turned on Cicely. + +'And please, what have you done with Herbert? I was promised a +bridegroom.' + +'Business!' said Cicely, sighing. 'We had hardly arrived for our week's +leave, when the wretched War Office wired him to come back. He went this +morning, and I wanted to go too, but--I'm not to racket just now.' + +Cicely blushed, and Hester, smiling, pressed her hand. + +'Then you're not going to Rome?' + +'Certainly I am! But one has to give occasional sops to the domestic +tyrant.' + +They sauntered back to tea in Hester's garden by the river, and there +the talk of her three guests was more equal and unfettered, more of a +real interchange, than Hester ever remembered it. Of old, Farrell had +been the guardian and teacher, indoctrinating Nelly with his own views +on art, reading to her from his favourite poets, or surrounding her in a +hundred small matters with a playful and devoted homage. But now in the +long wrestle with her grief and remorse, she had thought, as well as +felt. She was as humble and simple as ever, but her companions realised +that she was standing on her own feet. And this something new in +her--which was nothing but a strengthened play of intelligence and +will--had a curious effect on Farrell. It seemed to bring him out, also; +so that the nobler aspects of his life, and the nobler proportions of +his character shewed themselves, unconsciously. Hester, with anxious +joy, guessed at the beginnings of a new moral relation, a true +comradeship, between himself and Nelly, such as there had never yet +been--which might go far. It masked the depths in both of them; or +rather it was a first bridge thrown over the chasm between them. What +would come of it? + +Again she rebuked herself even for the question. But when the time for +departure came, and Nelly took Cicely into the house to fetch the wraps +which had been left there, Farrell drew his chair close to Hester's. She +read agitation in his look. + +'So she's actually going to take up this new nursing? She says she is to +have six months' training.' + +'Yes--don't grudge it her!' + +Farrell was silent a moment, then broke out--'Did you ever see anything +so small and transparent as her hands are? I was watching them as she +sat there.' + +'But they're capable!' laughed Hester. 'You should hear what her matron +says of her.' + +Farrell sighed. + +'How much weight has she lost?' + +'Not more--as yet--than she can stand. There's an intense life in her--a +spiritual life--that seems to keep her going.' + +'Hester--dear Hester--watch over her!' + +He put out a hand and grasped his cousin's. + +'Yes, you may trust me.' + +'Hester!--do you believe there'll ever be any hope for me?' + +'It's unkind even to think of it yet,' she said gravely. + +He drew himself up, recovering self-control. + +'I know--I know. I hope I'm not quite a fool! And indeed it's better +than I thought. She's not going to banish me altogether. When this new +hospital's open--in another month or so--and she's settled there--she +asks me to call upon her. She wants me to go into this man's treatment.' +There was a touch of comedy in the words; but the emotion in his face +was painful to see. + +'Good!' said Hester, smiling. + +When the guests were gone, Nelly came slowly back to Hester from the +garden gate. Her hands were loosely clasped before her, her eyes on the +ground. When she reached Hester she looked up and Hester saw that her +eyes were full of tears. + +'He'll miss her very much,' she said, sadly. + +'Cicely?' + +'Yes--she's been a great deal more to him lately than she used to be.' + +Nelly stood silently looking out over the lake for a while. In her mind +and Hester's there were thoughts which neither could express. Suddenly, +Nelly turned to Hester. Her voice sounded strained and quick. 'I never +told you--on my way here, I went to see Bridget.' + +Hester was taken by surprise. After a moment's silence she said-- + +'Has she ever repented--ever asked your forgiveness? + +Nelly shook her head. + +'But I think--she would be sorry--if she could. I shall go and see her +sometimes. But she doesn't want me. She seems quite busy--and +satisfied.' + +'Satisfied!' said Hester, indignantly. + +'I mean with what she is doing--with her way of living.' + +There was silence. But presently there was a stifled sob in the +darkness; and Hester knew that Nelly was thinking of those irrecoverable +weeks of which Bridget's cruelty had robbed her. + +Then presently bedtime came, and Hester saw her guest to her room. But a +little while after, as she was standing by her own window she heard the +garden door open and perceived a small figure slipping down over the +lawn--a shadow among shadows--towards the path along the lake. And she +guessed of course that Nelly had gone out to take a last look at the +scene of her lost happiness, before her departure on the morrow. + +Only twenty-two--with all her life before her--if she lived! + +Of course, the probability was that she would live--and gradually +forget--and in process of time marry William Farrell. But Hester could +not be at all sure that the story would so work out. Supposing that the +passion of philanthropy, or the passion of religion, fastened upon +her--on the girlish nature that had proved itself with time to be of so +much finer and rarer temper than those about her had ever suspected? +Both passions are absorbing; both tend to blunt in many women the +natural instinct of the woman towards the man. Nelly had been an +old-fashioned, simple girl, brought up in a backwater of life. Now she +was being drawn into that world of the new woman--where are women +policemen, and women chauffeurs, and militant suffragists, and women in +overalls and breeches, and many other strange types. The war has shown +us--suddenly and marvellously--the adaptability of women. Would little +Nelly, too, prove as plastic as the rest, and in the excitement of +meeting new demands, and reaching out to new powers, forget the old +needs and sweetnesses? + +It might be so; but in her heart of hearts, Hester did not believe it +would be so. + +Meanwhile Nelly was wandering through the May dusk along the lake. She +walked through flowers. The scents of a rich earth were in the air; +daylight lingered, but a full and golden moon hung over Loughrigg in the +west; and the tranced water of the lake was marvellously giving back the +beauty amid which it lay--form, and colour, and distance--and all the +magic of the hour between day and night. There was no boat, alack, to +take her to the island; but there it lay, dreaming on the silver water, +with a great hawthorn in full flower shewing white upon its rocky side. +She made her way to the point nearest to the island, and there sat down +on a stone at the water's edge. + +Opposite to her was the spot where she and George had drifted with the +water on their last night together. If she shut her eyes she could see +his sunburnt face, blanched by the moonlight, his strong shoulders, his +hands--which she had kissed--lying on the oars. And mingling with the +vision was that other--of a grey, dying face, a torn and broken body. + +Her heart was full of intensest love and yearning; but the love was no +longer a torment. She knew now that if she had been able to tell George +everything, he would never have condemned her; he would only have opened +his arms and comforted her. + +She was wrapped in a mystical sense of communion with him, as she sat +dreaming there. But in such a calm and exaltation of spirit, that there +was ample room besides in her mind for the thought of William +Farrell--her friend. Her most faithful and chivalrous friend! She +thought of Farrell's altered aspect, of the signs of a great task laid +upon him, straining even his broad back. And then, of his loneliness. +Cicely was gone--his 'little friend' was gone. + +What could she still do for him? It seemed to her that even while George +stood spiritually beside her, in this scene of their love, he was +bidding her think kindly and gratefully of the man whom he had blessed +in dying--the man who, in loving her, had meant him no harm. + +Her mind formed no precise image of the future. She was incapable, +indeed, as yet, of forming any that would have disturbed that intimate +life with George which was the present fruit in her of remorseful love +and pity. The spring shores of Rydal, the meadows steeping their +flowery grasses in the water, the new leaf, the up-curling fern, +breathed in her unconscious ear their message of re-birth. But she knew +only that she was uplifted, strengthened--to endure and serve. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISSING*** + + +******* This file should be named 12908.txt or 12908.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/9/0/12908 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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