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diff --git a/37181-h/37181-h.htm b/37181-h/37181-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..29ac6bb --- /dev/null +++ b/37181-h/37181-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10389 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The War-Workers, by E.M. Delafield. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + + + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37181 ***</div> + +<h1>THE WAR-WORKERS</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>E.M. DELAFIELD</h2> + +<h4>Author of "Zella Sees Herself"</h4> + +<h5>William Heinemann</h5> + +<h5>London</h5> + +<h5>1918</h5> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h5><a name="To" id="To"></a>To</h5> + +<h5>J. A. S.</h5> + +<h5>A very small token of innumerable bonds of union</h5> + + + + +<p class="caption"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</p> +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#Authors_Foreword"><b>Author's Foreword</b></a><br /> +<a href="#I"><b>I</b></a><br /> +<a href="#II"><b>II</b></a><br /> +<a href="#III"><b>III</b></a><br /> +<a href="#IV"><b>IV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#V"><b>V</b></a><br /> +<a href="#VI"><b>VI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#VII"><b>VII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#VIII"><b>VIII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#IX"><b>IX</b></a><br /> +<a href="#X"><b>X</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XI"><b>XI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XII"><b>XII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XIII"><b>XIII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XIV"><b>XIV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XV"><b>XV</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XVI"><b>XVI</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XVII"><b>XVII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XVIII"><b>XVIII</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XIX"><b>XIX</b></a><br /> +<a href="#XX"><b>XX</b></a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="Authors_Foreword" id="Authors_Foreword"></a>Author's Foreword</h3> + +<p>The "Midland Supply Depôt" of <i>The War-Workers</i> has no +counterpart in real life, and the scenes and characters +described are also purely imaginary.</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">E.M. Delafield</span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h3> + + +<p>At the Hostel for Voluntary Workers, in Questerham, Miss Vivian, +Director of the Midland Supply Depôt, was under discussion that evening.</p> + +<p>Half a dozen people, all of whom had been working for Miss Vivian ever +since ten o'clock that morning, as they had worked the day before and +would work again the next day, sat in the Hostel sitting-room and talked +about their work and about Miss Vivian.</p> + +<p>No one ever talked anything but "shop," either in the office or at the +Hostel.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you think Miss Vivian looked awfully tired today?"</p> + +<p>"No wonder, after Monday night. You know the train wasn't in till past +ten o'clock. I think those troop-trains tire her more than anything."</p> + +<p>"She doesn't have to cut cake and bread-and-butter and sandwiches for +two hours before the train gets in, though. I've got the usual blister +today," said an anaemic-looking girl of twenty, examining her +forefinger.</p> + +<p>There was a low scoffing laugh from her neighbour.</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian cutting bread-and-butter! She does quite enough without +that, Henderson. She had the D.G.V.O. in there yesterday afternoon for +ages. I thought he was <i>never</i> going. I stood outside her door for half +an hour, I should think, absolutely hung up over the whole of my work, +and I knew she was fearfully busy herself."</p> + +<p>"It's all very well for you, Miss Delmege—you're her secretary and work +in her room, but <i>we</i> can't get at her unless we're sent for. I simply +didn't know what to do about those surgical supplies for the Town +Hospital this morning, and Miss Vivian never sent for me till past +eleven o'clock. It simply wasted half my morning."</p> + +<p>"She didn't have a minute; the telephone was going the whole time," said +Miss Delmege quickly. "But yesterday, you know, when the D.G.V.O. +wouldn't go, I thought she was going to be late at the station for that +troop-train, and things were fairly desperate, so what d'you suppose I +did?"</p> + +<p>"Dashed into her room and got your head snapped off?" some one suggested +languidly. "I shall never forget one day last week when <i>I</i> didn't know +which way to <i>turn</i>, we were so busy, and I went in without being sent +for, and Miss Vivian—"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I remember," said Miss Delmege rapidly. She was a tall girl +with eyeglasses and a superior manner. She did not remember Miss Marsh's +irruption into her chief's sanctum with any particular clearness, but +she was anxious to finish her own anecdote. "But as <i>I</i> was telling +you," she hurried on, affecting to be unaware that Miss Marsh and her +neighbour were exchanging glances, "when I saw that it was getting later +every minute, and the D.G.V.O. seemed rooted to the spot, I simply went +straight downstairs and rang up Miss Vivian on the telephone. Miss Cox +was on telephone duty, and she was absolutely horrified. She said, 'You +<i>don't</i> mean to say you're going to ring up Miss Vivian,' she said; and +I said, 'Yes, I am. Yes, I am,' I said, and I did it. Miss Cox simply +couldn't get over it."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege paused to laugh in solitary enjoyment of her story.</p> + +<p>"'Who's there?' Miss Vivian said—you know what she's like when she's in +a hurry. 'It's Miss Delmege,' I said. 'I thought you might want to know +that the train will be in at eight o'clock, Miss Vivian, and it's +half-past seven now.' She just said 'Thank you,' and rang off; but she +must have told the D.G.V.O., because he came downstairs two minutes +later. And she simply flung on her hat and dashed down into the car and +to the station."</p> + +<p>"And, after all, the train wasn't in till past ten, so she might just as +well have stayed to put her hat on straight," said Miss Henderson +boldly. She had a reputation for being "downright" of which she was +aware, and which she strenuously sought to maintain by occasionally +making small oblique sallies at Miss Vivian's expense.</p> + +<p>"I must say it was most awfully crooked. I noticed it myself," said a +pretty little giggling girl whom the others always called Tony, because +her surname was Anthony. "How killing," I thought; "there's Miss Vivian +with her hat on quite crooked."</p> + +<p>"Yes, wasn't it killing?"</p> + +<p>"Simply killing. I thought the minute I saw her: How killing to see Miss +Vivian with her hat on like that!"</p> + +<p>"She looked perfectly killing hurrying down the platform," remarked Miss +Marsh, with an air of originality. "She was carrying cigarettes for the +men, and her hat got crookeder every minute. I was pining to tell her."</p> + +<p>"Go on, Marshy! She'd have had your head off. Fancy Marsh stopping Miss +Vivian in the middle of a troop-train to say her hat was on crooked!"</p> + +<p>Every one laughed.</p> + +<p>"I should think she'd be shot at dawn," suggested Tony. "That's the +official penalty for making personal remarks to your C.O., I believe."</p> + +<p>"You know," said Miss Delmege, in the tones whose refinement was always +calculated to show up the unmodulated accents of her neighbours, "one +day I absolutely did tell Miss Vivian when her hat was crooked. I said +right out: 'Do excuse me, Miss Vivian, but your hat isn't quite +straight.' She didn't mind a <i>bit</i>."</p> + +<p>"I suppose she knows she always looks nice anyway," said Tony easily.</p> + +<p>"I mean she didn't mind me telling her," explained Miss Delmege. "She's +most awfully human, you know, really. That's what I like about Miss +Vivian. She's so frightfully human."</p> + +<p>"Yes, she <i>is</i> human," Miss Marsh agreed. "Awfully human."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege raised her eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Of course," she said, with quiet emphasis, "working in her room, as I +do, I suppose I see quite another side of her—the <i>human</i> side, you +know."</p> + +<p>There was a silence. Nobody felt disposed to encourage Miss Vivian's +secretary in her all-too-frequent recapitulations of the privileges +which she enjoyed.</p> + +<p>Presently another worker came in, looking inky and harassed.</p> + +<p>"You're late tonight, Mrs. Potter, aren't you?" Tony asked her.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes. It's those awful Belgians, you know. Wherever I put them, +they're miserable, and write and ask to be taken away. There's a family +now that I settled simply beautifully at Little Quester village only a +month ago, and this afternoon the mother came in to say the air doesn't +suit them at all—she has a consumptive son or something—and could they +be moved to the seaside at once. So I told Miss Vivian, and she said I +was to get them moved directly. At once—today, you know. Of course, it +was perfectly absurd—they couldn't even get packed up—and I told her +so; but she said, 'Oh, settle it all by telephone'—you know her way. +'But, Miss Vivian,' I said, 'really I don't see how it can be managed. +I've got a most fearful amount of work,' I said. 'Well,' she said, 'if +you can't get through it, Mrs. Potter, I must simply put some one else +at the head of the department who <i>can</i>.' It's too bad, you know."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Potter sank into the only unoccupied wicker arm-chair in the room, +looking very much jaded indeed.</p> + +<p>Tony said sympathetically:</p> + +<p>"What a shame! Miss Vivian doesn't realize what an awful lot you do, I'm +perfectly certain."</p> + +<p>"Well, considering that every letter and every bit of work in the whole +office passes through Miss Vivian's hands, that's absurd," said Miss +Delmege sharply. "She knows exactly what each department has to do, but, +of course, she's such a quick worker herself that she can't understand +any one not being able to get through the same amount."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Potter looked far from enchanted with the proffered explanation.</p> + +<p>"It isn't that I can't get through the work," she said resentfully. "Of +course I can get through the regular work all right. But I must say, I +do think she's inconsiderate over these lightning touches of hers. What +on earth was the sense of making those people move tonight, I should +like to know?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian never will let the work get behindhand if she can help it," +exclaimed Miss Marsh; and Miss Henderson at the same instant said, +rather defiantly:</p> + +<p>"Well, of course, Miss Vivian always puts the work before everything. +She never spares herself, so I don't quite see why she should spare any +of us."</p> + +<p>"The fact is," said the small, cool voice of Miss Delmege, as usual +contriving to filter through every other less refined sound, "she is +extraordinarily tender-hearted. She can't bear to think any one is +suffering when she could possibly help them; she'll simply go miles out +of her way to do something for a wounded soldier or a Belgian refugee. I +see that in her correspondence so much. You know—the letters she writes +about quite little things, because some one or other wants her to. +She'll take <i>endless</i> trouble."</p> + +<p>"I know she's wonderful," said Mrs. Potter, looking remorseful.</p> + +<p>She was a middle-aged woman with light wispy hair, always untidy, and +wearing a permanent expression of fluster. She had only been at the +Hostel a few weeks. "Isn't it nearly supper-time?" yawned Tony. "I want +to go to bed."</p> + +<p>"Tired, Tony?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, awfully. I was on telephone duty last night, stamping the letters, +and I didn't get off till nearly eleven."</p> + +<p>"There must have been a lot of letters," said Miss Delmege, with the +hint of scepticism which she always managed to infuse into her tones +when speaking of other people's work.</p> + +<p>"About a hundred and thirty odd, but they didn't come down till very +late. Miss Vivian was still signing the last lot at ten o'clock."</p> + +<p>"She must have been very late getting out to Plessing. It's all very +well for us," remarked Miss Marsh instructively; "<i>we</i> finish work at +about six or seven o'clock, and then just come across the road, and here +we are. But poor Miss Vivian has about an hour's drive before she gets +home at all."</p> + +<p>"She's always at the office by ten every morning, too."</p> + +<p>"She ought to have some one to help her," sighed Miss Delmege. "Of +course, I'd do anything to take some of the work off her hands, and I +think she knows it. I think she knows I'd do simply anything for her; +but she really wants some one who could take her place when she has to +be away, and sign the letters for her, and see people. That's what she +really needs."</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness, there's the supper bell," said Tony.</p> + +<p>They trooped downstairs.</p> + +<p>The house was the ordinary high, narrow building of a provincial town, +and held an insufficiency of rooms for the number of people domiciled +there. The girls slept three or four in a room; the Superintendent had a +tiny bedroom, and a slightly larger sitting-room adjoining the large +room on the ground floor where they congregated in the evenings and on +Sundays, and the dining-room was in the basement.</p> + +<p>Gas flared on to the white shining American-cloth covering the long +table and on the wooden kitchen chairs. The windows were set high up in +the walls, and gave a view of area railings and, at certain angles, of a +piece of pavement.</p> + +<p>One or two coloured lithographs hung on the walls.</p> + +<p>There was a hideous sound of scraping as chairs were drawn back or +pulled forwards over the uncarpeted boards.</p> + +<p>"Sit next me, duck."</p> + +<p>"All right. Come on, Tony; get the other side of Sprouts."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege, aloof and superior, received no invitation to place +herself beside any one, and settled herself with genteel swishings of +her skirt at the foot of the table.</p> + +<p>The Superintendent sat at the head.</p> + +<p>She was a small, delicate-looking Irish woman with an enthusiastic +manner, who had married late in life, and been left a widow within two +years of her marriage. She worked very hard, and it was her constant +endeavour to maintain an atmosphere of perpetual brightness in the +Hostel.</p> + +<p>It was with this end in view that she invariably changed her blouse for +a slightly cleaner one at suppertime, although all the girls were in +uniform, and many of them still wearing a hat. But little Mrs. Bullivant +always appeared in a rather pallid example of the dyer or cleaner's art, +and said hopefully: "One of these days I must make a rule that all you +girls dress for dinner. We shall find ourselves growing dreadfully +uncivilized, I'm afraid, if we go on like this."</p> + +<p>The Hostel liked Mrs. Bullivant, although she was a bad manager and +could never keep a servant for long. She made no secret of the fact that +she could not afford to be a voluntary worker.</p> + +<p>Every Hostel in the district, and they were numerous owing to the +recently-opened Munitions Factory near Questerham, had rapidly become, +as it were, fish for Miss Vivian's net. Each and all were under her +control, and the rivalry between the Questerham Hostel "for Miss +Vivian's <i>own</i> workers" and those reserved for the munition-makers was +an embittered one.</p> + +<p>"What has every one been doing to-day?" Mrs. Bullivant asked cheerfully.</p> + +<p>The inquiry was readily responded to.</p> + +<p>The angle of Miss Vivian's hat, when she had gone down to meet the +troop-train, was again the subject of comment, and Miss Delmege was +again reminded of the story, which she told with quiet and undiminished +enjoyment, of her erstwhile daring in approaching Miss Vivian upon the +subject.</p> + +<p>"Did you really?" said Mrs. Bullivant admiringly. "Of course, it's +different for you, Miss Delmege, working in her room all day. You see so +much more of her than any one else does."</p> + +<p>Every one except the complacent Miss Delmege looked reproachfully at the +little Superintendent. She was incapable of snubbing any one, but the +Hostel thought her encouragement of Miss Delmege unnecessary in the +extreme.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bullivant changed the conversation rather hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"Who is on telephone duty tonight?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"I am, worse luck."</p> + +<p>"Miss Plumtree? And your head is bad again, isn't it, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Miss Plumtree wearily.</p> + +<p>She was a fair, round-faced girl of five or six and twenty who suffered +from frequent sick headaches. She worked for longer hours than any one +else, and had a reputation for "making muddles." It was popularly +supposed that Miss Vivian "had a down on her," but the Hostel liked Miss +Plumtree, and affectionately called her Greengage and Gooseberry-bush.</p> + +<p>"Greengage got another headache?" Miss Marsh asked concernedly. "I can +take your duty to-night, dear, quite well."</p> + +<p>"Thanks awfully, Marsh; it's sweet of you, but I haven't got leave to +change. You know last time, when Tony took duty for me, Miss Vivian +asked why I wasn't there."</p> + +<p>"I can say you're sick."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm sure she wouldn't like it," said Miss Plumtree, looking nervous +and undecided.</p> + +<p>"I think you ought to be in bed, I must say," said Mrs. Bullivant +uncertainly.</p> + +<p>"She certainly doesn't look fit to sit at that awful telephone for two +and a half hours; and there are heaps of letters to-night. I can answer +for the Hospital Department, anyway," sighed Miss Henderson. "Marshy, +you look pretty tired yourself. I can quite well take the telephone if +you like. I'm not doing anything."</p> + +<p>"I thought you were going to the cinema."</p> + +<p>"I don't care. I can do that another night. I'm not a bit keen on +pictures, really, and it's raining hard."</p> + +<p>"Thanks most awfully, both of you," repeated Miss Plumtree, "but I +really think I'd better go myself. You know what Miss Vivian is, if she +thinks one's shirking, and I'm not at all in her good books at the +moment, either. There was the most ghastly muddle about those returns +last month, and I sent in the averages as wrong as they could be."</p> + +<p>"That's nothing to do with your being unfit for telephone duty tonight," +said Miss Delmege, with acid sweetness. "I think I can answer for it +that Miss Vivian would be the first person to say you ought to let some +one else take duty for you. I'd do it myself, only I really must get +some letters written tonight. One never has a minute here. But I think I +can answer for Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>In spite of the number of times that Miss Delmege expressed herself as +ready to answer for Miss Vivian, no one had ever yet failed to be moved +to exasperation by her pretensions.</p> + +<p>"On the whole, Plumtree, you may be right not to risk it," said Miss +Henderson freezingly, as she rose from the table.</p> + +<p>"I'll manage all right," declared Miss Plumtree; but her round +apple-blossom face was drawn with pain, and she stumbled up the dark +stairs.</p> + +<p>In the hall there was a hurried consultation between Miss Marsh and Miss +Anthony.</p> + +<p>"I say, Tony, old Gooseberry-bush isn't fit to stir. She ought to be +tucked up in her bye-byes this minute. Shall I risk it, and go instead +of her, leave or no leave?"</p> + +<p>"I should think so, yes. What have things been like today?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, fairly serene. I didn't see Miss Vivian this morning, myself, but +nobody seems to have had their heads snapped off. There wasn't a fearful +lot of work for her, either, because Miss Delmege came in quite early."</p> + +<p>"Delmege makes me sick, the way she goes on! As though nobody else knew +anything about Miss Vivian, and she was a sort of connecting-link +between her and us. Didn't you hear her tonight? 'I think I can answer +for Miss Vivian,'" mimicked Tony in an exaggerated falsetto. "I should +jolly well like Miss Vivian to hear her one of these days. She'd +appreciate being answered for like that by her secretary—I don't +think!"</p> + +<p>"I say, Marshy, can you keep a secret?"</p> + +<p>"Rather!"</p> + +<p>"Well, swear not to tell, and, mind, I'm speaking absolutely +unofficially. I've no business to know it officially at all, because I +only saw it on a telegram I sent for the Billeting Department. Miss +Delmege is going to get her nose put out of joint with Miss V. Another +secretary is coming."</p> + +<p>"She's not! D'you mean Delmege has got the sack?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord, no! It's only somebody coming to help her, because there is +so much work for one secretary. She's coming from Wales, and her name is +Jones."</p> + +<p>"I seem to have heard that name before."</p> + +<p>They both giggled explosively; then made a simultaneous dash at the +hall-door as Miss Plumtree, in hat and coat, came slowly out of the +sitting-room.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't, Plumtree! You're going straight up to bed, and I'll tell +Miss Vivian you were ill. It'll be all right."</p> + +<p>"You are a brick, Marsh."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! You'll do as much for me some day. Goodnight, dear."</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh hurried out, and Miss Plumtree thankfully took the felt +uniform hat off her aching head.</p> + +<p>"Get into bed," directed Tony, "and take an aspirin."</p> + +<p>"Haven't got one left, worse luck."</p> + +<p>"I'll see if any one else has any. I believe Mrs. Potter has."</p> + +<p>Tony hurried into the sitting-room. Mrs. Potter had no aspirin, but she +hoisted herself out of her arm-chair and said she would go round to the +chemist and get some.</p> + +<p>She went out into the rain.</p> + +<p>Tony borrowed a rubber hot-water bottle from Miss Henderson, and a +kettle from somebody else, and went upstairs to boil some water, +forgetting that she was tired and had meant to go to bed after supper.</p> + +<p>Presently little Mrs. Bullivant came upstairs with a cup of tea and the +aspirin, both of which she administered to the patient.</p> + +<p>"You'll go to sleep after that, I expect," she said consolingly.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell the girls to get into bed quietly," Tony whispered.</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree shared a room with Miss Delmege and Miss Henderson.</p> + +<p>"I never do make any noise in the room that I am aware of," said Miss +Delmege coldly; but she and her room-mate both crept upstairs soon after +nine o'clock, lest their entrance later should awaken the sufferer, and +they undressed with the gas turned as low as it would go, and in +silence.</p> + +<p>Padding softly in dressing-slippers to the bathroom later on, for the +lukewarm water which was all that they could hope to get until the +solitary gas-ring should have served the turn of numerous waiting +kettles, they heard Miss Marsh returning from telephone duty, bolting +the hall-door, and putting up the chain.</p> + +<p>"You're back early," whispered Miss Henderson, coming halfway downstairs +in her pink flannelette dressing-gown, her scanty fair hair screwed back +into a tight plait.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't much doing. Miss Vivian got off at half-past nine. Jolly good +thing, too; she's been late every night this week."</p> + +<p>"Was it all right about your taking duty?"</p> + +<p>"Ab-solutely. Said she was glad Miss Plumtree had gone to bed, and asked +if she had anything to take for her head."</p> + +<p>"How awfully decent of her!"</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it? It'll buck old Greengage up, too. She always thinks Miss +Vivian has a down on her."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege leant over the banisters and said in a subdued but very +complacent undertone:</p> + +<p>"I thought Miss Vivian would be all right. I thought I could safely +answer for her."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h3> + + +<p>Plessing was also speaking of Miss Vivian that evening.</p> + +<p>"Where is this to end, Miss Bruce? I ask you, where is it to end?" +demanded Miss Vivian's mother.</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce knew quite well that Lady Vivian was not asking her at all, +in the sense of expecting to receive from her any suggestion of a term +to that which in fact appeared to be interminable, so she only made a +clicking sound of sympathy with her tongue and went on rapidly stamping +postcards.</p> + +<p>"I am not unpatriotic, though I do dislike Flag-days, and I was the first +person to say that Char must go and do work somewhere—nurse in a +hospital if she liked, or do censor's work at the War Office. Sir Piers +said 'No' at first—you know he's old-fashioned in many ways—and then +he said Char wasn't strong enough, and to a certain extent I agreed with +him. But I put aside all that and absolutely encouraged her, as you +know, to organize this Supply Depôt. But I must say, Miss Bruce, that I +never expected the thing to grow to these dimensions. Of course, it may +be a very splendid work—in fact, I'm sure it is, and every one says how +proud I must be of such a wonderful daughter—but <i>is</i> it all absolutely +necessary?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lady Vivian," said the secretary reproachfully. "Why, the very War +Office itself knows the value of dear Charmian's work. They are always +asking her to take on fresh branches."</p> + +<p>"That's just what I am complaining of. Why should the Midland Supply +Depôt do all these odd jobs? Hospital supplies are all very well, but +when it comes to meeting all the troop-trains and supplying all the +bandages, and being central Depôt for sphagnum moss, and all the rest of +it—all I can say is, that it's beyond a joke."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce took instant advantage of her employer's infelicitous final +<i>cliché</i> to remark austerely:</p> + +<p>"Certainly one would never dream of looking upon it as a <i>joke</i>, Lady +Vivian. I quite feel with you about the working so fearfully hard, and +keeping these strange, irregular hours, but I'm convinced that it's +perfectly unavoidable—perfectly unavoidable. Charmian owns herself that +no one can possibly take her place at the Depôt, even for a day."</p> + +<p>This striking testimony to the irreplacableness of her daughter appeared +to leave Lady Vivian cold.</p> + +<p>"I dare say," she said curtly. "Of course, she's got a gift for +organization, and all she's done is perfectly marvellous, but I must say +I wish she'd taken up nursing or something reasonable, like anybody +else, when she could have had proper holidays and kept regular hours."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce gave the secretarial equivalent for laughing the suggestion +to scorn.</p> + +<p>"As though nursing wasn't something that <i>anyone</i> could do! Why, any +ordinary girl can work in a hospital. But I should like to know what +other woman could do Charmian's work. Why, if she left, the whole +organization would break down in a week."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the goaded Lady Vivian, "the war wouldn't go on any the +longer if it did, I don't suppose—any more than it's going to end +twenty-four hours sooner because Char has dinner at eleven o'clock every +night and spends five pounds a day on postage stamps."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce looked hurt, as she went on applying halfpenny stamps to the +postcards that formed an increasing mountain on the writing-table in +front of her.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you're working for her now?"</p> + +<p>"I only wish I could do more," said the secretary fervently. "She gives +me these odd jobs because I'm always imploring her to let me do some of +the mechanical work that any one can manage, and spare her for other +things. But, of course, no one can really do anything much to help her."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry to hear it, since she has a staff of thirty or forty people +there. Pray, are they all being paid out of Red Cross funds for doing +nothing at all?" inquired Lady Vivian satirically.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course they all do their bit. Routine work, as Charmian calls +it. But she has to superintend everything—hold the whole thing +together. She looks through every letter that leaves that office, and +knows the workings of every single department, and they come and ask her +about every little thing."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they do. She enjoys that."</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian's tone held nothing more than reflectiveness, but the little +secretary reddened unbecomingly, and said in a strongly protesting +voice:</p> + +<p>"Of course, it's a very big responsibility, and she knows that it all +rests on her."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said Lady Vivian soothingly. "No one is ever a prophet in +his own country, and I suppose Char is no exception. Anyhow, she has a +most devoted champion in you, Miss Bruce."</p> + +<p>"It has nothing to do with any—any personal liking, Lady Vivian, I +assure you," said the secretary, her voice trembling and her colour +rising yet more. "I don't say it because it's her, but quite +dispassionately. I hope that even if I knew nothing of Charmian's own +personal attractiveness and—and kindness, I should still be able to see +how wonderful her devotion and self-sacrifice are, and admire her +extraordinary capacity for work. Speaking quite impersonally, you know."</p> + +<p>Anything less impersonal than her secretary's impassioned utterances, it +seemed to Lady Vivian, would have been hard to find, and she shrugged +her shoulders very slightly.</p> + +<p>"Well, Char certainly needs a champion, for she's making herself very +unpopular in the county. All these people who ran their small +organizations and war charities quite comfortably for the first six or +eight months of the war naturally don't like the way everything has been +snatched away and affiliated to this Central Depôt—"</p> + +<p>"Official co-ordination is absolutely—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know; that's Char's <i>cri de bataille</i>. But there are ways +and ways of doing things, and I must say that some of the things she's +said and written, to perfectly well-meaning people who've been doing +their best and giving endless time and trouble to the work, seem to me +tactless to a degree."</p> + +<p>"She says herself that anyone in her position is bound to give offence +sometimes."</p> + +<p>"Position fiddlesticks!" said Miss Vivian's parent briskly. "Why can't +she behave like anybody else? She might be the War Office and the +Admiralty rolled into one, to hear her talk sometimes. Of course, people +who've known her ever since she was a little scrap in short petticoats +aren't going to stand it. Why, she won't even be thirty till next +month!—though, I must say, she might be sixty from the way she talks. +But then she always was like that, from the time she was five years old. +It worried poor Sir Piers dreadfully when he wanted to show her how to +manage her hoop, and she insisted on arguing with him about the law of +gravitation instead. I suppose I ought to have smacked her then."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce choked, but any protest at the thought of the obviously +regretted opportunity lost by Lady Vivian for the perpetration of the +suggested outrage remained unuttered.</p> + +<p>The sharp sound of the telephone-bell cut across the air.</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce attempted to rise, but was hampered by the paraphernalia of +her clerical work, and Lady Vivian said:</p> + +<p>"Sir Piers will answer it. He is in the hall, and you know he likes +telephoning, because then he can think he isn't really getting as deaf +as he sometimes thinks he is."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce, respecting this rather complicated reason, sat down again, +and Lady Vivian remarked dispassionately:</p> + +<p>"Of course it's Char, probably to say she can't come back to dinner. You +know, I specially asked her to get back early tonight because John +Trevellyan is dining with us. There! what did I tell you?"</p> + +<p>They listened to the one-sided conversation.</p> + +<p>"Sir Piers Vivian speaking. What's that? Oh, you'll put me through to +Miss Vivian. Very well; I'll hold on. That you, my dear? Your mother and +I are most anxious you should be back for dinner—Trevellyan is +coming.... We'll put off dinner for half an hour if that would help +you.... But, my dear, he'll be very much disappointed not to see you, +and it really seems a pity, when the poor chap is just back ... he'll be +so disappointed.... Yes, yes, I see. I'm sure it's very good of you, but +couldn't they manage without you just for once?... Very well, my dear, +I'll tell him.... It's really very good of you, my poor dear child...."</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian stamped her foot noiselessly as her husband's voice reached +her; but when Sir Piers had put back the receiver and come slowly into +the room, she greeted him with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Was that Char? To say she couldn't be back in time for dinner tonight, +I suppose?"</p> + +<p>Quick-tempered, sharp-tongued woman as she was, Joanna Vivian's voice +was always gentle in speaking to her white-haired husband, twenty years +her senior.</p> + +<p>"The poor child seems to think she can't be spared. Very good of her, +but isn't she overdoing it just a little—eh, Joanna? Aren't they +working her rather too hard?"</p> + +<p>"It's mostly her own doing, Piers. She's head of this show, you know. I +suppose that's why she thinks she can't leave it."</p> + +<p>"The whole thing would go to pieces without her," thrust in the +secretary, in the sudden falsetto with which she always impressed upon +Sir Piers her recollection of his increasing deafness. "She supervises +the whole organization, and if she's away there isn't any one to take +her place."</p> + +<p>"But they don't want to work after six o'clock," said the old man, +looking puzzled. "Ten to six—that's office hours. She oughtn't to want +to be there after the place is shut up."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's no 'close time' for the Midland Supply Depôt," said Miss +Bruce, looking superior. "They may have orders to meet a train at any +hour of the day or night, and the telephone often goes on ringing till +eleven or twelve o'clock, I believe. And Charmian <i>never</i> leaves till +everyone else has finished work."</p> + +<p>Sir Piers looked bewildered, and his wife said quietly:</p> + +<p>"I'm thinking of suggesting to Char that she should sleep at the Hostel +they opened last year, instead of coming back here at impossible hours +every night. It really is very hard on the servants, and, besides, I +don't think we shall have enough petrol this winter for it to be +possible. She could always come home for week-ends, and on the whole it +would be less tiring for her to be altogether in Questerham during the +week."</p> + +<p>"But is it necessary?" inquired Sir Piers piteously.</p> + +<p>His wife shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"If she'd been a boy she would be in the trenches now. I suppose we must +let her do what she can, even though she's a girl. Other parents have to +make greater sacrifices than ours, Piers."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, to be sure," he assented. "And it's very good of the dear +child to give up all her time as she does. But I'm sorry she can't be +back for dinner tonight, Joanna—very sorry. Poor Trevellyan will be +disappointed."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lady Vivian, and refrained from adding, "I hope he will be."</p> + +<p>She had once hoped that Char and John Trevellyan might marry; but Char's +easy contempt for her cousin's Philistinism was only equalled by his +unconcealed regret that so much prettiness should be allied to such +alarming quick-wittedness.</p> + +<p>"Miss Bruce," she said, turning to her secretary, "I hope you will dine +with us tonight. Captain Trevellyan is bringing over a brother-officer +and his wife, and we shall be an odd number, since there is no hope of +Char."</p> + +<p>"What's that, my dear?" said Sir Piers. "I hadn't heard that. Who is +Trevellyan bringing with him?"</p> + +<p>"Major Willoughby and his wife. She used to be Lesbia Carroll, and I +knew her years ago—before she married. I shall be rather curious to see +her again."</p> + +<p>"Are they motoring?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, in Johnnie's new car."</p> + +<p>The dressing-gong reverberated through the hall.</p> + +<p>"They will very likely be late," remarked Lady Vivian, "but I must go +and dress at once."</p> + +<p>She went across the long room, a tall, upright woman with a beautiful +figure, obviously better-looking at fifty-two than she could ever have +been as a girl. Her hair was thick and dark, with more than a sprinkling +of white, and two deep vertical lines ran from the corners of her +nostrils to her rather square chin. But her blue eyes were brilliant, +and deeply set under a forehead that was singularly unlined.</p> + +<p>As Joanna Trevellyan, ungainly and devoid of beauty, she had been far +too outspoken to conceal her native cleverness, and had never known +popularity. As the wife of Sir Piers Vivian, the only man who had ever +wished to marry her, and mistress of Plessing, her wit and shrewdness +became her, and as the years went on she was even accounted +good-looking.</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce, returning to her postcards after a hurried toilet, thought +that Lady Vivian looked very handsome as she came down in her black-lace +evening-dress with a high amethyst comb in her hair.</p> + +<p>"Have the evening papers come?" was her first inquiry.</p> + +<p>"I think Sir Piers had them taken upstairs."</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian frowned quickly.</p> + +<p>"How I wish he wouldn't do that! The casualty lists depress him so +dreadfully. We must try and keep off the subject of the war at dinner, +Miss Bruce, or he won't sleep all night."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce said nothing, but she pursed up her lips in a manner which +meant that a possibly wakeful night for Sir Piers Vivian ought not to be +weighed in the balance against the universal tendency to discuss the +war. That the subject was never willingly embarked upon at Plessing, +except by Char Vivian, seemed to her a confession of weakness.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian was perfectly aware of her secretary's point of view, and +profoundly indifferent to it. She even took a rather malicious pleasure +in saying lightly and yet very decidedly:</p> + +<p>"John is safe enough, but I don't know what Lesbia Willoughby may choose +to talk about. As a girl she had the voice of a pea-hen, and never +stopped chattering. So, if you can, please head her off war-talk at +dinner."</p> + +<p>Her employer's trenchant simile as to Mrs. Willoughby's vocal powers +could not but recur to Miss Bruce with a sense of its extreme +appositeness when the guests entered.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby billowed into the room. There was really no other word +to describe that rapid, undulating, and yet buoyant advance. Tall as +Lady Vivian was, and by no means slightly built, she seemed to Miss +Bruce to be at once physically overpowered and almost eclipsed in the +strident and voluminous greeting of her old acquaintance.</p> + +<p>"My <i>dear</i> Joanna! After <i>all</i> these years ... how too, too delightful +to see you so absolutely and utterly unchanged! <i>Dear</i> old days! And now +we meet in the midst of all these horrors!"</p> + +<p>The exaggeration of the look she cast round her seemed to include the +drawing-room and its occupants alike in the pleasing category.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry you don't like my Louis XV.," said Lady Vivian flippantly, +and turned to greet the rest of the party.</p> + +<p>Her cousin John, who looked, even in khaki, a great deal less than his +thirty years, smiled at her with steady blue eyes that bore a great +resemblance to her own, and wrung her hand, saying, "This is very jolly, +Cousin Joanna," in a pleasant, rather serious voice.</p> + +<p>"And here," said Lesbia Willoughby piercingly—"here is my Lewis."</p> + +<p>Her Lewis advanced, looking not unnaturally sheepish, and Trevellyan +said conscientiously:</p> + +<p>"May I introduce Major Willoughby to you? My cousin, Lady Vivian."</p> + +<p>"You <i>never</i> told me, Joanna, that this dear thing was a cousin of +yours," shrieked Lesbia reproachfully. "I think it quite disgustingly +mean of you, considering that we were girls together."</p> + +<p>"In the days when we were girls together," said Lady Vivian ruthlessly, +"he wasn't born or thought of. Have they announced dinner, Miss Bruce?"</p> + +<p>"This moment."</p> + +<p>"Then, do let's go in at once. You must all be very hungry after such a +drive."</p> + +<p>"I <i>never</i> eat nowadays—simply never," proclaimed Mrs. Willoughby as +she crossed the hall on Sir Piers's arm. "I think it most unpatriotic. +We're all going to be starving quite soon, and the poor are living on +simply nothing a day as it is. And one can't <i>bear</i> to touch food while +our poor dear boys in the trenches and in Germany are literally +starving."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby's voice was of a very piercing quality, and she +emphasized her words by rolling round a pair of enormous and +over-prominent light grey eyes as she spoke. Seated at the dinner-table, +she contrived to present an appearance that almost amounted to +impropriety, by merely putting a large bare elbow on the table and +flinging back an elaborately dressed head set on a short neck and +opulent shoulders, thickly dredged with heavily scented powder. Miss +Bruce, on the opposite side of the table, eyed her with distrustful +disapproval. It did not appear to her likely that she would be able to +carry out Lady Vivian's injunction that war-talk was to be avoided.</p> + +<p>"Isn't Char at home?" Trevellyan inquired of his hostess.</p> + +<p>"She's at Questerham, and the car has gone in for her, but she +telephoned to say that she couldn't get back till late. It's this Supply +Depôt of hers; she's giving every minute of the day and night to it," +said Lady Vivian, characteristically allowing no tinge of disapproval or +disappointment to colour her voice.</p> + +<p>"Is that your delightful girl?" inquired Lesbia across the table, and +pronouncing the word as though it rhymed with "curl." "Isn't it too +wonderful to see all these young things devoting themselves? As for me, +I'm literally run off my feet in town. I'm having a holiday here—just +to see something of Lewis, who's stationed in these parts indefinitely, +poor dear lamb—because my doctor said I was <i>killing</i> myself—literally +killing myself."</p> + +<p>"Really?" said Lady Vivian placidly. "I hope you're going to be here for +some time. Are you staying—"</p> + +<p>"Only till I'm fit to move. That <i>moment</i>," said Lesbia impressively, +"that very moment, I must simply dash back to London. My dear, I can't +tell you what it's like. I never have an instant to call my own—have I, +Lewis?"</p> + +<p>"Rather not," said Lewis hastily.</p> + +<p>He was a small, brown-faced man, who had won his D.S.O. in South Africa, +and whom no doctor could now be induced to pass for service abroad.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps some charitable organization takes up your time," suggested Sir +Piers to Mrs. Willoughby. His deafness seldom permitted him to follow +more than the drift of general conversation. "Now, Charmian, our +daughter, has taken up a most creditable piece of work—most +creditable—although, perhaps, she is a little inclined to overdo things +just at present."</p> + +<p>"No one can <i>possibly</i> overdo war-work," Mrs. Willoughby told him +trenchantly. "Nothing that we women of England can do could ever be +enough for the brave fathers, and husbands, and brothers, and +sweethearts, who are risking their lives for us out there. Think of what +the trenches are—just <i>hell</i>, as a boy said to me the other day—hell +let loose!"</p> + +<p>Sir Piers looked very much distressed, and his white head began to +shake. He had only heard part of Lesbia's discourse. Trevellyan's +boyishly fair face flushed scarlet. He had fought in Belgium, and in +Flanders, until a bullet lodged in his knee, and now his next Medical +Board might send him to France to rejoin his regiment. But it would have +occurred to no one to suppose that the poignant description quoted by +Mrs. Willoughby had ever emanated from Trevellyan.</p> + +<p>From the head of the table Joanna Vivian said smoothly:</p> + +<p>"You've made us all very curious as to your work, Lesbia. Do tell us +what you do."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby gave her high, strident laugh.</p> + +<p>"Everything," was her modest claim. "Absolutely everything, my dear. +Packing for prisoners three mornings a week, canteen work twice, and +every Flag-day going. I can't tell you the <i>hours</i> I've stood outside +Claridge's carrying a tray and seeing insolent wretches walk past me +without buying. I've been <i>so</i> exhausted by the end of the day I've had +to have an hour's massage before I could <i>drag</i> myself out to patronize +some Red Cross entertainment. But, of course, my real work is the +Colonial officers. Dear, sweet things! I take them <i>all</i> over London!"</p> + +<p>"By Jove, though, do you really!" said Trevellyan admiringly.</p> + +<p>Only a certain naïve quality of sincerity in his simplicities, Joanna +reflected, saved Johnnie from appearing absolutely stupid. But, her +husband excepted, she was secretly fonder and more proud of Johnnie than +of any one in the world, and she did not make the mistake of supposing +that his easy chivalry denoted any admiration for the screeching +monologue of which Lesbia was delivering herself.</p> + +<p>"I make a specialty of South Africans," she proclaimed to the table. +"They're so delightfully rural—even more so than the dear Australians, +though I have a passion for Anzacs. But I take <i>some</i> of them +<i>some</i>where every day—just show them London, you know. Not one of them +knows a soul in England, and of course London is a perfect marvel to +them. I simply live in taxis, rushing the dear things round."</p> + +<p>"Ah, we had a couple of Canadians here last week—very fine fellows," +said Sir Piers. "Been in hospital in Questerham, both of them, and Char +thought they'd enjoy a day out in the country. She manages everything, +you know—even the hospitals. The doctors all come to her for +everything, I believe. She tells me that all the hospitals round about +are affiliated to her office."</p> + +<p>"Ranks as a sort of Universal Provider—what?" said Trevellyan.</p> + +<p>"Yes; isn't it wonderful?" said Miss Bruce eagerly; and availed herself +to the full of the double opportunity for obeying, even at the eleventh +hour, Lady Vivian's injunctions as to the trend of the conversation, and +at the same time making the utmost of her favourite topic, Char Vivian's +work at the Midland Supply Depôt.</p> + +<p>For the rest of dinner, in spite of several strenuous efforts from +Lesbia Willoughby, nothing else was discussed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h3> + + +<p>Ten o'clock in the morning, and little Miss Anthony flew up Questerham +High Street on her bicycle, conscious that her hurried choice of a +winter hat had not only been highly unsatisfactory, owing to the extreme +haste with which she had conducted it, but was also about to make her +late in arriving at the office. She threw an anxious glance at the +Post-Office clock, and redoubled her speed at the sight of it, though no +amount of haste would get her to the Midland Supply Depôt Headquarters +under another seven minutes.</p> + +<p>But she sped gallantly across the tram-lines and in and out of the +slow-moving stream of market-carts, and arrived breathless at the +offices in Pollard Street just as Miss Vivian's small open car drew up +at the door.</p> + +<p>"Damn!" automatically muttered Tony under her breath, and seeing nothing +for it but to put her bicycle into a corner and efface herself +respectfully to let Miss Vivian pass.</p> + +<p>But Miss Vivian, generally so unaware of any member of her staff as not +even to exchange a "Good-morning," elected suddenly to reverse this +policy.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning," she said graciously. "We're both late today, I'm +afraid."</p> + +<p>The clerk in the hall, who drew an ominous line in her book under the +last signature as the clock struck ten, laughed in a rather awestruck +way and said, "Oh, Miss Vivian!"</p> + +<p>"I think you must let Miss Anthony off today," said Char Vivian, +smiling. "As I am late myself, you know."</p> + +<p>She went slowly upstairs, just hearing an ecstatic gasp from the two +girls in the hall.</p> + +<p>She was vaguely aware that those few gracious words and tone of easy +kindness had secured for her little Miss Anthony's unswerving loyalty +and admiration.</p> + +<p>Girls of that age and class <i>were</i> like that, she told herself with a +slight smile.</p> + +<p>The smile died away into an expression of weary concentration as she +entered her private office.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Miss Delmege. Is there much in today?"</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Miss Vivian," said Miss Delmege, elegantly rising from +her knees, in which lowly position she had been trying to coax the +small, indifferent fire to burn. "I am afraid there are a lot of +letters."</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian sighed and moved to the looking-glass to take off her hat. +She also was in uniform, and wore several curly stripes of gold braid on +her coat collar and cuffs to denote her exalted position.</p> + +<p>Even when she had taken off her ugly and unbecoming felt hat and run her +fingers through the thick, straight masses of reddish hair that hung +over her forehead, Char Vivian contrived to look at least ten years +older than her actual twenty-nine years.</p> + +<p>She was very good-looking, with delicate aquiline features, a pale, fair +skin powdered all over with tiny freckles, and beautiful deep-set brown +eyes surrounded by unexpectedly dark lashes.</p> + +<p>It was something quite indefinable in the lines round her pretty, +decided mouth, and under her eyes that gave the odd impression of +maturity. Her manner had always, from the age of five, been one of +extreme self-security.</p> + +<p>"Now, then, for the letters," she said, as she sat down before the great +roll-top desk. Char Vivian's voice was deep and rather drawling in +character, and she used it with great effect.</p> + +<p>"Miss Delmege, did you put these heavenly lilies-of-the-valley here? You +really mustn't—but they're too lovely. Thank you so much. They <i>do</i> +make such a difference!"</p> + +<p>She sniffed delicately, and Miss Delmege smiled with gratification. The +lilies-of-the-valley had really cost more than she could afford, but +those few words of appreciation sent her to her small table in the +corner with a sense of great satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Char tore open one envelope after another with murmured comments. She +frequently affected an absence of mind denoted by fragmentary monologue.</p> + +<p>"Transport wanted for fifty men going from the King Street Hospital +today—and they want more sphagnum moss. There ought to be five hundred +bags ready to go out this morning.... I wonder if they've seen to it. +Inquiries—inquiries—inquiries! When are people ever going to stop +asking me questions? Hospital accounts—that can go to the Finance +Department.... The Stores bill—to the Commissariat. What's all +this—transport for that man in Hospital? I shall have to see to that +myself. Look me up the War Office letters as to Petrol regulations, Miss +Delmege, will you? Belgians again; they're very difficult to satisfy, +poor people. Madame Van Damm—I don't remember them—I must send for the +files. Here are some more of those tiresome muddles of Mrs. Potter's. I +told her all about those people on Monday. Why on earth hasn't it been +arranged? Nothing is <i>ever</i> done unless one sees to it oneself. The +Medical Officer of Health wants to see me. What are my appointments for +today, Miss Delmege?"</p> + +<p>"The man from the building contractors is coming at twelve, and the +Matron from the Overseas Hospital at three, and then there's that Miss +Jones who's coming to work here. And it's the day you generally go to +the Convalescent Homes."</p> + +<p>"I see. Ring up the Medical Officer and say I can give him a quarter of +an hour at two o'clock. I can't really spare that," sighed Miss Vivian, +"but I suppose I shall have to see him."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege knew that, whatever else her chief might depute to her, she +never relinquished to any one a business interview, so she merely looked +concerned and said: "I'm afraid it will be a great rush for you."</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian gave her subtle, infrequent smile, and began the customary +series of morning interviews which were supposed to settle the +perplexities of each department for the day. That this supposition was +not invariably correct was made manifest on this occasion by the +demeanour of the unhappy Miss Plumtree, when her chief had made short +work of a series of difficulties haltingly and stammeringly put before +her in sentences made involved and awkward through sheer nervousness.</p> + +<p>"Let me have those Requisition Averages by twelve o'clock, please—and I +think that completes you, Miss Plumtree?" concluded Miss Vivian rapidly.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Miss Vivian. Is—are—do these averages include the first +day of the month as well as the last?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course. And remember to give the gross weight of the supplies +as well as the net weight."</p> + +<p>"And I—I divide by the number of days in each month. Yes, I see," +faltered Miss Plumtree, seeing nothing at all except the brisk tapping +of Miss Vivian's long, slight fingers on the blotting-paper in front of +her, denoting with sufficient clearness that in her opinion the +interview had reached its conclusion some moments since.</p> + +<p>"It's for August, September, and October, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian's tone implied that the question was unnecessary in the +extreme, as indeed it was, since Miss Plumtree had been engaged in +conducting the quarterly Requisition Averages to an unsuccessful issue +for the past eighteen months.</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree faltered from the room, with the consciousness of past +failures heavy upon her.</p> + +<p>Char did not like an attitude of sycophantic dejection, and Miss +Plumtree may therefore have been responsible for the very modified +enthusiasm with which the next applicant's request for an afternoon off +duty was received.</p> + +<p>"It rather depends, Miss Cox," said Char, her drawl slightly emphasized. +"I thought the work in that department was behindhand?"</p> + +<p>"Not now, Miss Vivian," said the grey-haired spinster anxiously. "Mrs. +Tweedale and I cleared it all up last night; I'm quite up to date."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm afraid there's a good deal for you here," said Char rather +cruelly, handing her a bundle of papers. "However, please take your +afternoon off if you want to, and if you feel that the work can be +left."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>Miss Cox, who was meek and deferential, left the room, the pleasurable +anticipation of a holiday quite gone from her tired face.</p> + +<p>Char looked at the neatly coiled twist of Miss Delmege's sand-coloured +hair.</p> + +<p>"Was I a wet-blanket?" she inquired whimsically. "Really, the way these +people are always asking for leave! I wonder what would happen if <i>I</i> +took an afternoon off. How long is it since I had a holiday, Miss +Delmege?"</p> + +<p>"You've not had one since I've been here," declared her secretary, "and +that's nearly a year."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. But then I can't understand putting anything before the work, +personally."</p> + +<p>Char returned to her pile of letters and Miss Delmege went on with her +writing in a glow of admiration, and resolved that, after all, she would +come and work on Sunday morning, although nominally no one came to the +office on Sundays except the clerks who took turns for telephone duty, +and Miss Vivian herself in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>The morning was a busy one. Telephone calls seemed incessant, and the +operator downstairs was unintelligent and twice cut Miss Vivian off in +the midst of an important trunk call.</p> + +<p>"Hallo! hallo! are you there? Miss Henderson, what the <i>dickens</i> are you +doing? You've cut me off again."</p> + +<p>Char banged the receiver down impatiently with one hand, while the other +continued to make rapid calculations on a large sheet of foolscap. She +possessed and exercised to the full the faculty of following two or more +trains of thought at the same moment.</p> + +<p>Presently she rang her bell sharply, the customary signal that she was +ready to dictate her letters.</p> + +<p>Each department was supposed to possess its own typewriter and to make +use of it, and the services of the shorthand-typist, who was amongst the +few paid workers in the office, were exclusively reserved for Miss +Vivian.</p> + +<p>The work entailed was no sinecure, the more especially since Miss +Collins was obdurate as to her time-limit of ten to five-thirty. But it +was never difficult for Miss Vivian to commandeer volunteer typists from +the departments when her enormous correspondence appeared to her to +require it.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"Good-morning," said Char curtly, unsmiling. Miss Collins always gave +her a sense of irritation. She was so jauntily competent, so consciously +independent of the office.</p> + +<p>Shorthand-typists could always find work in the big Questerham +manufacturing works, and Miss Collins had only been secured for the +Supply Depôt with difficulty. She received two pounds ten shillings a +week, never worked overtime, and had every Saturday afternoon off. Miss +Vivian had once, in the early days of Miss Collins, suggested that she +might like to wear uniform, and had received a smiling and unqualified +negative, coupled with a candid statement of Miss Collins's views as to +the undesirability of combining clerical work with the exhausting +activities required in meeting and feeding the troop-trains.</p> + +<p>"I should be sorry to think that any of <i>my</i> staff would shirk the +little additional work which brings them into contact with the men who +have risked their lives for England," had been the freezing <i>finale</i> +with which the dialogue had been brought to a close by the disgusted +Miss Vivian.</p> + +<p>Since then her stenographer had continued to frequent her presence in +transparent and <i>décolletées</i> blouses, with short skirts swinging above +silk-stockinged ankles and suede shoes. Even her red, fluffy curls were +unnecessarily decked with half a dozen sparkling prongs. But she was +very quick and intelligent, and Miss Vivian had perforce to accept her +impudent prettiness and complete independence.</p> + +<p>Char never, after the first week, made the mistake of supposing that +Miss Collins would ever fall under that spell of personal magnetism to +which the rest of the office was in more or less complete subjection, +and she consequently wasted no smile upon her morning greeting.</p> + +<p>"This is to the Director-General of Voluntary Organizations, and please +do not use abbreviations. Kindly head the letter in full."</p> + +<p>Miss Collins's small manicured hand ran easily over her notebook, +leaving a trail of cabalistic signs behind it.</p> + +<p>Char leant back, half-closing her eyes in a way which served to +emphasize the tired shadows beneath them, and proceeded with her fluent, +unhampered dictation.</p> + +<p>She was seldom at a loss for a word, and had a positive gift for the +production of rhetorical periods which never failed to impress Miss +Delmege, still writing at her corner table. In spite of frequent +interruptions, Char proceeded unconcernedly enough, until at the +eleventh entry of a messenger she broke into an impatient exclamation:</p> + +<p>"Miss Delmege, please deal for me!"</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege swept forward, annihilating the unhappy bearer of the card +with a look of deep reproach, as she took it from her.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's some one to see you," she faltered deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>Char frowned and took the card impatiently, and Miss Delmege stood by +looking nervous, as she invariably did when her chief appeared annoyed. +Char Vivian, however, although frequently impatient, was not a +passionate woman, and however much she might give rein to her tongue, +seldom lost control of her temper, for the simple reason that she never +lost sight of herself or of her own effect upon her surroundings.</p> + +<p>Her face cleared as she read the card.</p> + +<p>"Please ask Captain Trevellyan to come up here."</p> + +<p>The messenger disappeared thankfully and Miss Delmege retreated +relievedly to her corner.</p> + +<p>Char leant back again in her capacious chair, a sheaf of papers, at +which she only cast an occasional glance, before her.</p> + +<p>She was not at all averse to being found in this attitude, which she +judged to be most typical of herself and her work, and for an instant +after Captain Trevellyan's booted tread had paused upon the threshold +she affected unawareness of his presence and did not raise her eyes.</p> + +<p>"... I am in receipt of your letter of even date, and would inform you +in reply...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, John! So you've come for an official inspection?"</p> + +<p>"Since you're never to be seen any other way," he returned, laughing, +and grasping her hand.</p> + +<p>"I ought to send you away; we're in the midst of a heavy day's work."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think you might call a—a sort of truce of God, for the +moment, and tell me something about this office of yours? I'm much +impressed by all I hear."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege, judging from her chief's smile that this suggestion was +approved of, brought forward a chair, and acknowledged Captain +Trevellyan's protesting thanks with a genteel bend at the waist and a +small, tight smile.</p> + +<p>The amenities of social intercourse were always strictly held in check +by the limits of officialdom by Miss Vivian's staff, with the exception +of the unregenerate Miss Collins, who tucked her pencil into her belt, +uncrossed her knees, and rose from her chair.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I'm interrupting you," said Trevellyan politely, addressing +his remark to Char, but casting a quite unnecessary look at the now +smiling Miss Collins.</p> + +<p>"I've nearly finished," said Char.</p> + +<p>"Shall I come back later?" suggested Miss Collins gaily, swinging a +turquoise heart from the end of an outrageously long gold chain.</p> + +<p>"I will ring if I want you," said Miss Vivian in tones eminently +calculated to allay any assumption of indispensability on the part of +her employée.</p> + +<p>With a freezing eye she watched Miss Collins swing jauntily from the +room, her red head cocked at an angle that enabled her to throw a +farewell dimple in the direction of Captain Trevellyan.</p> + +<p>"Is that one of your helpers?" was the rather infelicitously worded +inquiry which John was inspired to put as Miss Collins disappeared.</p> + +<p>"The office stenographer," said Char curtly.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you have poor old Miss Bruce up here? She's longing to help +you—couldn't talk about anything but this place last night."</p> + +<p>"Dear old Brucey!" said Char, with more languor than enthusiasm in her +voice. "But there are one or two reasons why it wouldn't quite do to +have her in the office; we have to be desperately official here, you +know. Besides, it's such a comfort to get back in the evenings to some +one who doesn't look upon me as the Director of the Midland Supply +Depôt! I sometimes feel I'm turning into an organization instead of a +human being."</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian, needless to say, had never felt anything of the sort, but +there was something rather gallantly pathetic in the half-laughing turn +of the phrase, and it sufficed for a weighty addition to Miss Delmege's +treasured collections of "Glimpses into Miss Vivian's Real Self."</p> + +<p>She received yet another such a few minutes later, when Captain +Trevellyan began to urge Miss Vivian to come out with him in the new car +waiting at the office door.</p> + +<p>"Do! I'll take you anywhere you want to go, and I really do want you to +see how beautifully she runs. Come and lunch somewhere?"</p> + +<p>"I'd love it," declared Char wistfully, "but I really mustn't, Johnnie. +There's so much to do."</p> + +<p>Either the cousinly diminutive, or something unusually unofficial in +Miss Vivian's regretful voice, caused the discreet Miss Delmege to rise +and glide quietly from the room.</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian really is most awfully human," she declared to a +fellow-worker whom she met upon the stairs. "What do you think I've left +her doing?"</p> + +<p>The fellow-worker leant comfortably against the wall, balancing a wire +basket full of official-looking documents on her hip, and said +interestedly:</p> + +<p>"Do tell me."</p> + +<p>"Refusing to go for a motor ride with a cousin of hers, an officer, who +wants her to see his new car. And she awfully wants to go—I could see +that—it's only the work that's keeping her."</p> + +<p>"I must say she <i>is</i> splendid!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>"I think I saw the cousin, waiting downstairs about a quarter of an hour +ago. Is he a Staff Officer, very tall and large, and awfully fair?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Rather nice-looking, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Quite, and I do like them to be tall. He's got a nice voice, too. You +know—I mean his voice is nice."</p> + +<p>"Yes; he has got a nice voice, hasn't he? I noticed it myself. Of +course, that awful Miss Collins made eyes at him like anything. She was +taking letters when he came in."</p> + +<p>"Rotten little minx! I wonder if he's engaged to Miss Vivian?"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't say," primly returned Miss Delmege, with a sudden access of +discretion, implying a reticence which in point of fact she was not in a +position to exercise.</p> + +<p>She did not go upstairs again until Captain Trevellyan and his motor-car +had safely negotiated the corner of Pollard Street, unaccompanied by +Miss Vivian.</p> + +<p>This Miss Delmege ascertained from a ground-floor window, and then +returned to her corner table, wearing an expression of compassionate +admiration that Char was perfectly able to interpret.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid that was an interruption to our morning's work," she said +kindly. "What time is it?"</p> + +<p>"Nearly one o'clock, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good heavens! Just bring me the Belgian files, will you? and then +you'd better go to lunch."</p> + +<p>"I can quite well go later," said Miss Delmege eagerly. "I—I thought +perhaps you'd be lunching out today."</p> + +<p>"No," drawled Char decisively; "in spite of the inducement of the new +car, I shan't leave the office till I have to go to the Convalescent +Homes. I'll send for some lunch when I want it."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege went to her own lunch with a vexed soul.</p> + +<p>"I do wish one could get Miss Vivian to eat something," she murmured +distractedly to her neighbour. "I know exactly what it'll be, you know. +She'll sit there writing, writing, writing, and forget all about food, +and then it'll be two o'clock, and she has to see the M.O. of Health and +somebody else coming at three—and she'll have had no lunch at all."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't she ever go out to lunch?"</p> + +<p>"Only on slack days, and you know how often we get <i>them</i>, especially +now that the work is simply increasing by leaps and bounds every day."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you take her some sandwiches?" asked Mrs. Bullivant from the +head of the table. "I could cut some in a minute."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, thank you. She wouldn't like it. She hates a fuss," Miss +Delmege declared decidedly.</p> + +<p>The refusal, with its attendant tag of explanatory ingratitude, was +received in matter-of-fact silence by every one.</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian's hatred of a fuss, as interpreted by her secretary, merely +redounded to her credit in the eyes of the Hostel.</p> + +<p>They ate indifferent pressed beef and tepid milk-pudding, and those who +could afford it—for the most part accompanied by those who could not +afford it—supplemented the meal with coffee and cakes devoured in haste +at the High Street confectioner's, and then hurried back to the office.</p> + +<p>It was nearly three o'clock before Miss Delmege ventured to address her +chief.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you haven't had lunch. Do let me send for something."</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian looked up, flushed and tired.</p> + +<p>"Dear me, yes. It's much later than I thought. Send out one of the +Scouts for a couple of buns and a piece of chocolate."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" protested Miss Delmege, as she invariably did on receipt of this +menu.</p> + +<p>Char Vivian did not raise her eyes from the letter she was rapidly +inditing, and her secretary retreated to give the order.</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree, counting on her fingers and looking acutely distressed, +sat at a small table in the hall from whence the Scout was dispatched.</p> + +<p>"Is that <i>all</i> she's having for lunch?" she paused in her pursuit of +ever-elusive averages to inquire in awestruck tones.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and she's been simply worked to death this morning. And it's +nearly three now, and she won't get back to dinner till long after ten +o'clock, probably; but she never will have more for lunch, when she's +very busy, than just buns and a penny piece of chocolate. That," said +Miss Delmege, with a sort of desperate admiration—"that is just Miss +Vivian all over!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h3> + + +<p>Char looked wearily at the clock.</p> + +<p>The buns and chocolate hastily disposed of in the intervals of work +during the afternoon had only served to spoil the successive cups of +strong tea, which formed her only indulgence, brought to her at five +o'clock. They were guiltless of sustaining qualities. It was not yet +seven, and she never ordered the car until nine o'clock or later.</p> + +<p>Her eyes dropped to the diminished, but still formidable, pile of papers +on the table. She was excessively tired, and she knew that the papers +before her could be dealt with in the morning.</p> + +<p>But it was characteristic of Char Vivian that she did not make up her +mind then and there to order the car round and arrive at Plessing in +time for eight o'clock dinner and early bed, much as she needed both. To +do so would have jarred with her own and her staff's conception of her +self-sacrificing, untiring energy, her devotion to an immense and +indispensable task, just as surely as would a trivial, easy interruption +to the day's work in the shape of John Trevellyan and his new car, or an +hour consecrated to fresh air and luncheon. Necessity compelled Char to +work twelve hours a day some two evenings a week, in order that the +amount undertaken by the Midland Supply Depôt might be duly +accomplished; but on the remaining days, when work was comparatively +light and over early in the evening, she did not choose to spoil the +picture which she carried always in her mind's eye of the indefatigable +and overtaxed Director of the Midland Supply Depôt.</p> + +<p>So Miss Vivian applied herself wearily, once again, to her inspection of +those Army Forms which were to be sent up to the London office on the +morrow.</p> + +<p>Presently the door opened and Miss Delmege came in with her hat and coat +on, prepared to go.</p> + +<p>"I thought I'd just tell you," she said hesitatingly, "that Miss Jones +has come—the new clerk. Shall I take her over to the Hostel?"</p> + +<p>Char sighed wearily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose I'd better see her. If it isn't tonight, it will have to +be tomorrow. I'd rather get it over. Send her up."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Vivian!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind. I shan't be long."</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian smiled resignedly.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, she was rather relieved at the prospect of an +interview to break the monotony of the evening. The Army Forms in +question had failed to repay inspection, in the sense of presenting any +glaring errors for which the Medical Officer in charge of the Hospital +could have been brought sharply to book.</p> + +<p>She unconsciously strewed the papers on the desk into a rather more +elaborate confusion in front of her, and began to open the inkpot, +although she had no further writing to do. The pen was poised between +her fingers when Miss Delmege noiselessly opened the door, and shut it +again on the entry of Miss Jones.</p> + +<p>Char put down her pen, raised her heavy-lidded eyes, and said in her +deep, effective voice:</p> + +<p>"Good-evening, Miss—er—Jones."</p> + +<p>She almost always hesitated and drawled for an instant before +pronouncing the name of any member of her staff. The trick was purely +instinctive, and indicated both her own overcharged memory and the +insignificance of the unit, among many, whom she was addressing.</p> + +<p>"How do you do?" said Miss Jones.</p> + +<p>Her voice possessed the indefinable and quite unmistakable intonation of +good-breeding, and Char instantly observed that she did not wind up her +brief greeting with Miss Vivian's name.</p> + +<p>She looked at her with an instant's surprise. Miss Jones was short and +squarely built, looked about twenty-seven, and was not pretty. But she +had a fine pair of grey eyes in her little colourless face, and her +slim, ungloved hands, which Char immediately noticed, were unusually +beautiful.</p> + +<p>"You are from Wales, I believe?" said Char, unexpectedly even to +herself. She made a point of avoiding personalities with the staff. But +there appeared to be something which required explanation in Miss Jones.</p> + +<p>"Yes. My father is the Dean of Penally. I have had some secretarial +experience with him during the last five years."</p> + +<p>Evidently Miss Jones wished to keep to the matter in hand. Char was +rather amused, reflecting on the fluttered gratification which Miss +Delmege or Miss Henderson would have displayed at any directing of the +conversation into more personal channels.</p> + +<p>"I see," she said, smiling a little. "Now, I wonder what you call +secretarial experience?"</p> + +<p>"My father naturally has a great deal of correspondence," returned Miss +Jones, without any answering smile on her small, serious face. "I have +been his only secretary for four years. Since the war he has employed +some one else for most of his letters, so as to set me free for other +work."</p> + +<p>"Yes; I understood from your letter that you had been working in a +hospital."</p> + +<p>"As clerk."</p> + +<p>"Excellent. That will be most useful experience here. You know this +office controls the hospitals in Questerham and round about. I want you +to work in this room with my secretary, and learn her work, so that she +can use you as her second."</p> + +<p>"I will do my best."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure of that," said Miss Vivian, redoubling her charm of manner, +and eyeing the impassive Miss Jones narrowly. "I hope you'll be happy +here and like the work. You must always let me know if there's anything +you don't like. I think you're billeted just across the road, at our +Questerham Hostel?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I'll send some one to show you the way."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; I know where it is. I left my luggage there before coming +here."</p> + +<p>"The new workers generally come to report to me before doing anything +else," said Char, indefinably vexed at having failed to obtain the +expected smile of gratitude.</p> + +<p>"However, if you know the way I must let you go now, so as to be in time +for supper. Good-night, Miss Jones."</p> + +<p>"Good-night," responded Miss Jones placidly, and closed the door +noiselessly behind her. Her movements were very quiet in spite of her +solid build, and she moved lightly enough, but the Hostel perceived a +certain irony, nevertheless, in the fact that Miss Jones's parents had +bestowed upon her the baptismal name of Grace.</p> + +<p>The appeal thus made to a rather elementary sense of humour resulted in +Miss Jones holding the solitary privilege of being the only person in +the Hostel who was almost invariably called by her Christian name. She +enjoyed from the first a strange sort of popularity, nominally due to +the fact that "you never knew what she was going to say next"; in +reality owing to a curious quality of absolute sincerity which was best +translated by her surroundings as "originality." Another manifestation +of it, less easily defined, was the complete good faith which she placed +in all those with whom she came into contact. Only a decided tincture of +Welsh shrewdness preserved her from the absolute credulity of the +simpleton.</p> + +<p>Almost the first question put to Miss Jones was that favourite test one +of the enthusiastic Tony, "And what do you think of Miss Vivian?"</p> + +<p>"I think," said Miss Jones thoughtfully, "that she is a reincarnation of +Queen Elizabeth."</p> + +<p>There was a rather stunned silence in the Hostel sitting-room.</p> + +<p>Reincarnation was not a word which had ever sounded there before, and it +carried with it a subtle suggestion of impropriety to several listeners. +Nor was any one at the moment sufficiently <i>au courant</i> with the Virgin +Queen's leading characteristics to feel certain whether the comparison +instituted was meant to be complimentary or insulting in the extreme.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege for once voiced the popular feeling by ejaculating coldly:</p> + +<p>"That's rather a strange thing to say, surely!"</p> + +<p>"Why? Hasn't it ever struck anybody before? I should have thought it so +obvious. Why, even to look at, you know—that sandy colouring, and the +way she holds her head: just as though there ought to be a ruff behind +it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you mean to look at," said Miss Marsh, the general tension +considerably relaxed as the trend of the conversation shifted from that +dreaded line of abstract discussion whither the indiscreet Miss Jones +had appeared, for one horrid moment, to conduct it.</p> + +<p>"Had Queen Elizabeth got freckles? I really don't know much about her, +except that they found a thousand dresses in her wardrobe when she +died," said Tony, voicing, as it happened, the solitary fact concerning +the Sovereign under discussion which any one present was able to +remember, as outcome of each one's varying form of a solid English +education.</p> + +<p>"Her power of administration and personal magnetism, you know," +explained Miss Jones.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course she's perfectly wonderful," Miss Delmege exclaimed, sure +of her ground. "You'll see that more and more, working in her room."</p> + +<p>Whether such increased perception was indeed the result of Miss Jones's +activities in the room of the Director might remain open to question.</p> + +<p>Char found her very quick, exceedingly accurate, and more conscientious +than the quick-witted can generally boast of being. She remained +entirely self-possessed under praise, blame, or indifference, and Miss +Vivian was half-unconsciously irritated at this tacit assumption of an +independence more significant and no less secure than that of Miss +Collins the typist.</p> + +<p>"Gracie, I wish you'd tell me what you <i>really</i> think of Miss Vivian," +her room-mate demanded one night as they were undressing together.</p> + +<p>Screens were chastely placed round each bed, and it was a matter of some +surprise to Miss Marsh that her companion so frequently neglected these +modest adjuncts to privacy, and often took off her stockings, or folded +up even more intimate garments, under the full light, such as it was, of +the gas-jet in the middle of the room.</p> + +<p>Miss Jones was extremely orderly, and always folded her clothes with +scrupulous tidiness. She rolled up a pair of black stockings with +exactitude before answering.</p> + +<p>"I think she's rather interesting."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, Gracie! if Delmege could only hear you! <i>Rather +interesting!</i> The Director of the Sacred Supply Depôt! You really are +the limit, the things you say, you know."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's all I <i>do</i> think. She is very capable, and a fairly good +organizer, but I don't think her as marvellous as you or Miss Delmege or +Tony do. In fact, I think you're all rather <i>détraquées</i> about Miss +Vivian."</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh was as well aware as anybody in the Hostel that the insertion +of a foreign word into a British discourse is the height of affectation +and of bad form; and although she could not believe Grace to be at all +an affected person, she felt it due to her own nationality to assume a +very disapproving expression and to allow an interval of at least three +seconds to elapse before she continued the conversation.</p> + +<p>"Don't you <i>like</i> her?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you don't know her well enough to say yet?" Miss Marsh +suggested.</p> + +<p>"Do you think that has anything to do with it? I often like people +without knowing them a bit," said Grace cordially; "and certainly I +quite often dislike them thoroughly, even if I've only heard them speak +once, or perhaps not at all."</p> + +<p>"Then you judge by appearances, which is a great mistake."</p> + +<p>Miss Jones said in a thoughtful manner that she didn't think it was +<i>that</i> exactly, and supposed regretfully that Miss Marsh would think she +was "swanking" if she explained that she considered herself a sound and +rapid judge of character.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a sweet camisole, dear!"</p> + +<p>"My petticoat-bodice," said Grace matter-of-factly. "I'm glad you like +it. The ribbon always takes a long time to put in, but it does look +rather nice. I like mauve better than pink or blue."</p> + +<p>There came a knock at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in!" called Miss Jones, bare-armed and bare-legged in the middle +of the room.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute!" exclaimed the scandalized Miss Marsh, in the midst of a +shuffling process by which her clothes were removed under the nightgown +which hung round her with empty flapping sleeves.</p> + +<p>"It's only me," said Miss Plumtree in melancholy tones, walking in. "I'm +just waiting for my kettle to boil."</p> + +<p>The gas-ring was on the landing just outside the bedroom door.</p> + +<p>Grace looked up.</p> + +<p>"How pretty you look with your hair down!" she said admiringly.</p> + +<p>"Me? Rubbish!" exclaimed Miss Plumtree, colouring with astonishment and +embarrassment, but with a much livelier note in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Your hair is so nice," explained Grace, gazing at the soft brown mop of +curls.</p> + +<p>"Oh, lovely, of course."</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree wriggled with confusion, and had no mind to betray how +much the unaffected little bit of praise had restored her spirits. But +she sat down on Grace's bed in her pink cotton kimono in a distinctly +more cheerful frame of mind than that in which she had entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Are you in the blues, Gooseberry-bush?" was the sympathetic inquiry of +Miss Marsh.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am, rather. It's Miss Vivian, you know. She can be awfully down +on one when she likes."</p> + +<p>"I know; you always do seem to get on the wrong side of her. Grace will +sympathize; she's just been abusing her like a pickpocket," said Miss +Marsh, apparently believing herself to be speaking the truth.</p> + +<p>Miss Jones raised her eyebrows rather protestingly, but said nothing. +She supposed that in an atmosphere of adulation such as that which +appeared to her to surround Miss Vivian, even such negative criticism as +was implied in an absence of comment might be regarded seriously enough.</p> + +<p>"But even if one doesn't like her <i>awfully</i> much, she has a sort of +fascination, don't you think?" said Miss Plumtree eagerly. "I always +feel like a—a sort of bird with a sort of snake, you know."</p> + +<p>The modification which she wished to put into this trenchant comparison +was successfully conveyed by the qualifying "sort of," an adverb +distinctly in favour at the Hostel.</p> + +<p>"I know what you mean exactly, dear," Miss Marsh assured her. "And of +course she does work one fearfully hard. I sometimes think I shall have +to leave."</p> + +<p>"She works every bit as hard as we do—harder. I suppose you'll admit +that, Gracie?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes."</p> + +<p>"Don't go on like that," protested Miss Marsh, presumably with reference +to some indefinable quality detected by her in these two simple +monosyllables.</p> + +<p>"I only meant," said Grace Jones diffidently, "that it might really be +better if she didn't do quite so much. If she could have her luncheon +regularly, for instance."</p> + +<p>"My dear, she simply hasn't the time."</p> + +<p>"She could make it."</p> + +<p>"The work comes before everything with Miss Vivian. I mean, really it +does," said Miss Plumtree solemnly.</p> + +<p>Miss Jones finished off the end of a thick plait of dark hair with a +neat blue bow, and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I suppose even you'll admit that, Gracie?"</p> + +<p>Grace gave a sudden little laugh, and said in the midst of it:</p> + +<p>"Really, I'm not sure."</p> + +<p>"My dear girl, what on earth do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I think I mean that I don't feel certain Miss Vivian would work quite +so hard or keep such very strenuous hours if she lived on a desert +island, for instance."</p> + +<p>The other two exchanged glances.</p> + +<p>"Dotty, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Mad as a hatter, I should imagine."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you'll explain what sort of war-work people <i>do</i> on desert +islands?"</p> + +<p>"That isn't what I mean, quite," Gracie explained. "My idea is that +perhaps Miss Vivian does <i>partly</i> work so very hard because there are so +many people looking on. If she was on a desert isle she might—find time +for luncheon."</p> + +<p>"My dear girl, you're ab-solutely raving, in my opinion," said Miss +Plumtree with simple directness. "There! That's my kettle."</p> + +<p>She dashed out of the room, as a hissing sound betrayed that her kettle +had overboiled on to the gas-ring, as it invariably did.</p> + +<p>After the rescue had been effected she looked in again and said:</p> + +<p>"I suppose you wouldn't let me come in for some of your tea tomorrow +morning, would you, dear? Ours is absolutely finished, and that ass +Henderson forgot to get any more."</p> + +<p>"Rather," said Miss Marsh cordially. "This extraordinary girl doesn't +take any, so you can have the second cup."</p> + +<p>"Thanks most awfully. I can do without most things, but I can't do +without my tea. Good-night, girls."</p> + +<p>It was an accepted fact all through the Hostel that, although one could +do without most things, one could not do without one's tea.</p> + +<p>This requirement was of an elastic nature, and might extend from early +morning to a late return from meeting a troop-train at night. Grace +every morning refused the urgent offer of her room-mate to "make her a +cup of nice hot tea," and watched, with a sort of interested surprise, +while Miss Marsh got out of bed a quarter of an hour earlier than was +necessary in order to fill and boil a small kettle and make herself +three and sometimes four successive cups of very strong tea. She was +always willing to share this refreshment with any one, but every room in +the Hostel had its own appliances for tea-making, and made daily and +ample use of them.</p> + +<p>Although Miss Jones did not drink tea, she often washed up the cup and +saucer and the little teapot. Miss Marsh suffered from a chronic +inability to arrive at the office punctually, although breakfast was at +nine o'clock, and she had only to walk across the road. But she +frequently said, in a very agitated way, as she rose from the +breakfast-table:</p> + +<p>"Excuse me. I simply must go and do my washing. It's Monday, and I've +left it to the last moment."</p> + +<p>This meant that the counting and dispatching of Miss Marsh's weekly +bundle for the laundry would occupy all her energies until the desperate +moment when she would look at her wrist-watch, exclaim in a mechanical +sort of way, "Oh, damn! I shall never do it!" and dash out of the house +and across Pollard Street as the clock struck ten.</p> + +<p>"I'll wash the tea-things for you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, dear! Why <i>should</i> you? I can quite well do them to-night."</p> + +<p>But Grace knew that when her room-mate came in tired at seven o'clock +that evening she might very likely want "a good hot cup of tea" then and +there, and she accordingly took the little heap of crockery into the +bathroom. Standing over the tiny basin jutting out of the wall, Miss +Jones, with her sleeves carefully rolled up over a very solid pair of +forearms, washed and dried each piece with orderly deliberation, and +replaced them in the corner of Miss Marsh's cupboard.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you'll be late. Can't I help you?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, dear, but I dare say I can just scramble through. What about +<i>your</i> washing?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I did all that on Saturday night," said Grace, indicating a +respectable brown-paper parcel tied up with string and with an orderly +list pinned on to the outside.</p> + +<p>"You're a marvel!" sighed Miss Marsh. "Don't wait, Gracie."</p> + +<p>Miss Jones went downstairs and out into Pollard Street. She moved rather +well, and had never been known to swing her arms as she walked. Her face +was very serious. She often thought how kind it was of the others not to +call her a prig, since her methodical habits and innate neatness +appeared to be in such startling contrast to the standards prevailing at +the Hostel. She had never been sent to school, or seen much of other +girls, and the universal liking shown to her by her fellow-workers gave +her almost daily a fresh sense of pleased surprise.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the office, she signed her name at the door, and proceeded +upstairs to Miss Vivian's room.</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian came in, chilled from her motor drive and with that rather +pinky tinge on her aquiline nose which generally forecasted a troubled +morning. The observant Miss Jones regarded this law very +matter-of-factly as an example of cause and effect. She felt sure that +Miss Vivian only felt at her best when conscious of looking her best, +and hoped very much that the winter would not be a very cold one. It was +obvious that Miss Vivian suffered from defective circulation, which her +sedentary existence had not improved.</p> + +<p>But it was Miss Delmege who solicitously suggested fetching a +foot-warmer from the Supplies Department, and who placed it tenderly at +the disposal of Miss Vivian.</p> + +<p>After that the atmosphere lightened, and it was with comparative +equanimity that Miss Vivian received the announcement that a lady had +called and desired to see her.</p> + +<p>"Please send up her name and her business on a slip of paper, and you +can tell the clerk in the outer hall that I won't have those slipshod +messages sent up," was the reception of the emissary.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege gathered up a sheaf of papers from her table and glided +from the room. Grace, whose powers of mental detachment permitted her to +concentrate on whatever she was doing without regard to her +surroundings, went on with her work.</p> + +<p>The interviews conducted by Miss Vivian seldom interested her in the +least.</p> + +<p>That this one was, however, destined to become an exception, struck her +forcibly when the sudden sound of a piercing feminine voice on the +stairs came rapidly nearer.</p> + +<p>"... as for my name on a slip of paper, I never heard such nonsensical +red-tape in my life. Why, Char's mother and I were girls together!"</p> + +<p>Although every one in the office was aware that Miss Vivian's baptismal +name was Charmian, and that this was invariably shortened by her +acquaintances to Char, it came as a shock even to the imperturbable Miss +Jones to hear this more or less sacred monosyllable ringing up the +stairs to Miss Vivian's very table.</p> + +<p>"Who on earth—" began Char indignantly, when the door flew open before +her caller, who exclaimed shrilly and affectionately on the threshold:</p> + +<p>"My dear child, you can't possibly know who I am, but my name is +Willoughby, and when I was Lesbia Carroll your mother and I were girls +together. I had to come in and take a peep at you!"</p> + +<p>There was a sort of rustling pounce, and Grace became aware that the +outraged Miss Vivian had been audibly and overpoweringly kissed in the +presence of a giggling Scout and of her own junior secretary.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h3> + + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby, in Miss Vivian's private office, reversed all rules of +official precedent.</p> + +<p>"Sit down again, my dear child—sit down!" she cried cordially, at the +same time establishing herself close to the table. "I hear you're doing +wonderful work for all these dear people—Belgians and the dear Tommies +and every one—and I felt I simply <i>had</i> to come in and hear all about +it. Also, I want to propound a tiny little scheme of my own which I +think will appeal to you. Or have you heard about it already from that +precious boy John, with whom, I may tell you, I'm simply <i>madly</i> in +love? I'm always threatening to elope with him!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid," said Char, disregarding her visitor's pleasantry, "that I +can really hardly undertake anything more. We are very much understaffed +as it is, and the War Office is always—"</p> + +<p>"I can turn the <i>whole</i> War Office round my little finger, my dear," +declared Mrs. Willoughby. "There's the dearest lad there, a sort of +under-secretary, who's absolutely devoted to me, and tells me all sorts +of official tit-bits before any one else hears a word about them. I can +get anything I want through him, so you needn't worry about the War +Office. In fact, to tell you rather a shocking little secret, I can get +what I want out of most of these big official places—just a little tiny +manipulation of the wires, you know. [<i>Cherchez la femme</i>—though I +oughtn't to say such things to a girl like you, ought I?"]</p> + +<p>Char looked at Mrs. Willoughby's large, heavily powdered face, at her +enormous top-heavy hat and over-ample figure, and said nothing.</p> + +<p>But no silence, however subtly charged with uncomplimentary meanings, +could stem Mrs. Willoughby's piercing eloquence.</p> + +<p>"This is what I want to do, and I'm told at the camp here that it would +be simply invaluable. I want to get up a Canteen for the troops here, +and for all those dear things on leave."</p> + +<p>"There are several Y.M.C.A. Huts already."</p> + +<p>"My dear! I know it. But I want to do this all on my little own, and +have quite different rules and regulations. My Lewis, who's been in the +Army for over fifteen years, poor angel, tells me that they all—from +the Colonel downwards—think it would be the greatest boon on earth, to +have a <i>lady</i> at the head of things, you know."</p> + +<p>"My time is too much taken up; it would be quite out of the question," +said Char simply.</p> + +<p>"Darling child! <i>Do</i> you suppose I meant you—a ridiculously young thing +like you? Of course, it would have to be a married woman, with a certain +regimental position, so to speak. And my Lewis is second in command, as +you know, so that naturally his wife.... You see, the Colonel's wife is +an absolute dear, but an invalid—more or less, and no more <i>savoir +faire</i> than a kitten. A perfect little provincial, between ourselves. +Whereas, of course, I know this sort of job inside out and upside +down—literally, my dear. The <i>hours</i> I've toiled in town!"</p> + +<p>"But I'm afraid in that case you oughtn't to leave—"</p> + +<p>"I must! I'm compelled to! It's <i>too</i> cruel, but the doctor simply won't +answer for the consequences if I go back to London in my present state. +But work I <i>must</i>. One would go quite, quite mad if one wasn't +working—thinking about it all, you know."</p> + +<p>"Major Willoughby is—er—in England, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Thank God, yes!" exclaimed Lesbia, with a fervour that would have +startled her husband considerably. "My heart bleeds for these poor wives +and mothers. I simply thank God upon my knees that I have no son! When +one thinks of it all—England's life-blood—"</p> + +<p>Char did not share her mother's objection to eloquence expended upon the +subject of the war, but she cut crisply enough into this <i>exaltée</i> +outpouring.</p> + +<p>"One is extremely thankful to do what little one can," she said, +half-unconsciously throwing an appraising glance at the files and papers +that were littered in profusion all over the table.</p> + +<p>"Indeed one is!" cried Lesbia, just as fervently as before. "Work is the +only thing. My dear, this war is killing me—simply killing me!"</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian was not apparently prompted to any expression of regret at +the announcement.</p> + +<p>"As I said to Lewis the other day, I must work or go quite mad. And now +this Canteen scheme seems to be calling out to me, and go I must. We've +got a building—that big hall just at the bottom of the street here—and +I'm insisting upon having a regular opening day—so much better to start +these things with a flourish, you know—and the regimental band, and +hoisting the Union Jack, and everything. And what I want you to do is +this."</p> + +<p>Lesbia paused at last to take breath, and Char immediately said:</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I'm so fearfully busy today that I haven't one moment, but +if you'd like my secretary to—"</p> + +<p>"Not your secretary, but your <i>entire</i> staff, and your attractive self. +I want you <i>all</i> down there to help!"</p> + +<p>"Quite impossible," said Char. "I wonder, Mrs. Willoughby, if you have +any idea of the scale on which this Depôt is run?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Every</i> idea," declared Lesbia recklessly. "I'm told everywhere that +all the girls in Questerham are helping you, and that's exactly why I've +come. I want girls to make my Canteen attractive—all the prettiest ones +you have."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid my staff was not selected with a view to—er—personal +attractions," said Miss Vivian, in a voice which would have created +havoc amongst her staff in its ironical chilliness.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, my dear Char! I met the sweetest thing on the stairs—a +perfect gem of a creature with Titian-coloured hair. Not in that hideous +uniform, either."</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian could not but recognize the description of her typist.</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand," she said. "Do you want helpers on your +opening day, or regularly?"</p> + +<p>"Quite regularly—from five to eleven or thereabouts every evening. I +shall be there myself, of course, to supervise the whole thing, and I've +got half a dozen dear things to help me: but what I want is <i>girls</i>, +who'll run about and play barmaid and wash up, you know."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't my mother spare Miss Bruce sometimes?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Is</i> Miss Bruce a young and lively girl?" inquired Mrs. Willoughby, not +without reason. "Besides, I need dozens of them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see," said Char languidly. She was tired of Mrs. Willoughby, and +it was with positive relief that she heard her telephone-bell ring +sharply.</p> + +<p>There was a certain satisfaction in leaning back in her chair and +calling, "Miss—er—Jones!"</p> + +<p>Miss Jones moved quietly to answer the insistent bell.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid this rather breaks into our consultation," said Char, deftly +making her opportunity, "but may I write to you and let you know what I +can manage?"</p> + +<p>"I shall pop in again and commandeer all these delightful young +creatures of yours. I'm marvellous at recruiting, my dear; every man I +met out of khaki I always attacked in the early days. White feathers, +you know, and everything of that sort. I had no mercy on them. One lad I +absolutely dragged by main force to the recruiting office, though he +said he couldn't leave his wife and babies. But, as I told him, I'd had +to let my Lewis go—he was on the East Coast then—and was <i>proud</i> to do +my bit for England. I dare say the wretch got out of it afterwards, +because they wouldn't let me come in with him while he was actually +being sworn, or whatever it is. Such red-tape!"</p> + +<p>Char paid small attention to these reminiscences of Lesbia's past +activities.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Miss Jones?"</p> + +<p>"The D.G.V.O. is here."</p> + +<p>"The Director-General of Voluntary Organizations," said Miss Vivian, +carelessly tossing off the imposing syllables, with the corner of her +eye, as it were, fixed upon Mrs. Willoughby. "In that case, I'm afraid I +must ask you to forgive me."</p> + +<p>"I must fly," said Lesbia in a sudden shriek, ignoring her dismissal +with great skill. "Some of those boys from the camp are lunching with +me, and they'll never forgive me if I'm late."</p> + +<p>"Ask the Director-General of Voluntary Organizations to come up, Miss +Jones," drawled Char. "And show Mrs. Willoughby the way downstairs."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, you sweet thing!" cried Lesbia gaily, agitating a tightly +gloved white-kid hand. "I shall pop in again in a day or two, and you +must let me help you. I adore Belgians—positively adore them, and can +do anything I like with them."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby's enthusiasm was still audible during her rustling +progress down the stairs.</p> + +<p>Char paid full attention to her interview with the opportunely arrived +Director-General of Voluntary Organizations, because she wished him to +think her a most official and business-like woman, entirely capable of +accomplishing all that she had undertaken; but when the dignitary had +departed she gave serious consideration to the scheme so lightly +propounded by Mrs. Willoughby.</p> + +<p>The visit of this enthusiast had ruffled her more than she would have +owned to herself, and it was almost instinctively that she strove to +readjust the disturbed balance of her own sense of competence and +self-devotion by waving aside all Miss Delmege's proposals of lunch.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I haven't got time for anything of that sort today. I've had +a most interrupted morning. No, Miss Delmege, thank you, not even a bun. +You'd better go to your own lunch now."</p> + +<p>"I'm not in any hurry, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"It's one o'clock," Miss Vivian pointed out, quite aware that her +secretary would now seek her cold mutton and milk-pudding with an +absolute sense of guilt, as of one indulging in a Sybaritic orgy while +her chief held aloof in austere abstention.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege, in fact, looked very unhappy, and said in low tones to her +colleague at the other end of the room: "Miss Jones, if you care to go +to lunch first, I'll take my time off between two and half-past instead, +at the second table."</p> + +<p>The second table for lunch was never a popular institution, the mutton +and the milk-pudding having lost what charms they ever possessed, and, +moreover, the time allowed being abridged by almost half an hour. Miss +Delmege, in virtue of her seniority and of her own excessive sense of +superiority, always arranged that Grace should take the second +luncheon-hour, and Miss Jones looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"Do you mind, because really I don't care when I go?"</p> + +<p>"I'd <i>rather</i> you went first," repeated Miss Delmege unhappily.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much. I'm very hungry, and if you really don't mind, I +shall be delighted to go now," said Grace cheerfully, in an undertone +that nevertheless penetrated to Miss Vivian's annoyed perceptions.</p> + +<p>It was evident that Miss Jones had no qualms as to enjoying a +substantial lunch, however long her overworked employer might elect to +fast, and the conviction was perhaps responsible for the sharpness with +which Char exclaimed: "For Heaven's sake don't chatter in the corner +like that! You're driving me perfectly mad—a day when one simply +doesn't know which way to <i>turn</i>."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege sank into her chair, looking more overwhelmed than ever, +and Grace said gently, "I'm sorry, Miss Vivian," disregarding or not +understanding Miss Delmege's signal that apologies were out of place in +Miss Vivian's office.</p> + +<p>Char drew pen and ink towards her, purely <i>pour la forme</i>, and began to +make mechanical designs on the blotting-paper, while her mind turned +over and over the question of Mrs. Willoughby's proposed canteen.</p> + +<p>Char thought that her staff's time was fully employed already, as indeed +it was, and had no wish to arouse any possible accusation of +overworking. At the same time, she had hitherto succeeded in taking over +the management of almost every war organization in Questerham and the +district, and was by no means minded to allow a new Canteen, on a large +scale, to spring into life under no better auspices than those of Mrs. +Willoughby.</p> + +<p>If she allowed her staff to go down to the Canteen in instalments, Char +decided it would have to be definitely understood that the organization +of the Canteen was entirely in the hands of the Midland Supply Depôt. +She surmised shrewdly that such details of practical requirements as a +boiler, tea-urns, kitchen utensils, and the like, had not yet crossed +the sanguine line of vision of Mrs. Willoughby. It would be easy enough +for Char to assume command when she alone could supply all such needs at +a minimum of expenditure and trouble. The staff, she decided, should be +sent down in shifts of five or six at a time, five nights a week.</p> + +<p>Then, Char reflected considerately, no one could have more than one +night in the week, whereas she herself would always put in an +appearance, even if only for a few minutes. It would encourage her +staff, and would also show Mrs. Willoughby quite plainly the sort of +position held by the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt.</p> + +<p>That afternoon she sent for Miss Collins and dictated a short letter to +Mrs. Willoughby, in which she declared, in the third person singular, +that the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt had considered the +proposed scheme for the opening of a Canteen in Pollard Street, and was +prepared to help with the practical management of it. She would also +supply six voluntary workers between the hours of 7 and 11 P.M. for +every night in the week, Saturday excepted. As she took down these +official statements, Miss Collins's light eyebrows mounted almost into +the roots of her red hair with surprise and disapproval.</p> + +<p>Char, being observant, saw these symptoms of astonishment, as she was +meant to do, but few thoughts were further from her mind than that of +consulting the views of her stenographer on any subject. She even took a +certain amount of satisfaction in dictating a rather imperiously worded +document, which informed each department in the office that those +workers who lived in Questerham would be required to report for duty one +night a week for emergency work (7 to 11 P.M.) at the new Canteen which +would shortly be opened in Pollard Street under the direction of Miss +Vivian and Mrs. Willoughby. Followed a list of names, with a +corresponding day of the week attached to each group of six.</p> + +<p>"Cut a stencil and roll off six copies for each department and two or +three extra ones for filing," commanded Miss Vivian. "You can add at the +end: '(Signed) Director of the Midland Supply Depôt.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>Miss Collins went away with her eyebrows still erect.</p> + +<p>The new field of enterprise was loudly discussed by the staff, as they +took the usual half-hour's break in the afternoon at tea-time.</p> + +<p>"Isn't Miss Vivian wonderful?" said Tony excitedly. "She'd take on +<i>anything</i>, I do believe."</p> + +<p>"And make a success of it, too!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, rather."</p> + +<p>Hardly any one grumbled at the extra four hours of hard work coming at +the end of the day, and there was a general feeling of disapproval when +Mrs. Bullivant at the Hostel said timidly: "If you're to be down there +at seven, it'll be rather difficult to arrange about supper. Cook won't +like having to get a meal ready for half-past six, and, besides, you'll +be so hungry by eleven o'clock."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we can't think of that, Mrs. Bullivant," observed Miss +Delmege severely. "Not when we remember that Miss Vivian practically +<i>never</i> gets her supper till long after ten every night, and she doesn't +get much lunch, either. In fact, sometimes she simply won't touch +anything at all in the middle of the day."</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Bullivant looked very much rebuked, and said that she must see +what she could do. "Anyhow, it won't be just yet awhile," she exclaimed +with Irish optimism.</p> + +<p>"Things move very quickly with Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"I think they mean the Canteen to open some time in December," said +Grace. "That's not so very far off."</p> + +<p>"Time does fly," sighed Miss Plumtree, wishing that the Monthly Averages +were divided from one another by a longer space of time.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Sunday is all the nearer."</p> + +<p>Sunday was the day most looked forward to by the whole Hostel, although +an element of uncertainty was added to the enjoyment of it by the +knowledge that the arrival of a troop-train might bring orders to any or +every member of the staff to report for duty at the station at half an +hour's notice.</p> + +<p>One or two of the girls were able to go out of Questerham home, or to +their friends, for the week-end, but the majority remained in the +Hostel. Mrs. Bullivant tried to make the day "bright and homey" at the +cost of pathetic exertions to herself, for Sunday was her hardest day of +work.</p> + +<p>A certain <i>laissez-aller</i> marked the day from its earliest beginnings.</p> + +<p>Almost every one came down to breakfast in bedroom slippers, even though +fully dressed.</p> + +<p>"A girl here—before you came, Gracie," Miss Marsh told her room-mate, +"used to come down in a kimono and sort of boudoir-cap arrangement. But +I must say nobody liked it—just like a greasy foreigner, she was. All +the sleeves loose, you know, so that you could see right up her arms. +Myself, I don't call that awfully nice—not at the breakfast-table."</p> + +<p>"It would be very cold to do that now," said Grace, shivering. She +disliked the cold very much, and the Hostel was not warmed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, wouldn't it? It's a comfort to get into one's own clothes again +and out of uniform, isn't it, dear? That's what I like about +Sundays—dainty clothes again," said Miss Marsh, fiercely pulling a comb +backwards through her hair so as to make it look fluffy.</p> + +<p>"I like you in uniform, though," said Miss Jones, who had received +several shocks on first beholding the Sunday garbs known to the Hostel +as "plain clothes."</p> + +<p>"Very sweet of you to say that, dear. You always look nice yourself, +only your plain clothes are too like your uniform—just a white blouse +and dark skirt you wear, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's all I've got," said Grace apologetically; and Miss +Marsh at once thought that perhaps poor little Gracie couldn't afford +many things, and said warmly:</p> + +<p>"But white blouses are awfully nice, dear, and <i>crêpe de Chine</i> always +looks so <i>good</i>."</p> + +<p>Then she thrust her stockinged feet into her red slippers and shuffled +across the room. "How lucky you are! You never have to back-comb your +hair, do you?"</p> + +<p>"I never do back-comb it, because it's so bad for it," said Grace +seriously. She had a book open on the dressing-table in front of her, +but was characteristically quite as much interested in Miss Marsh's +conversation as in her own reading.</p> + +<p>"'Daniel Deronda'?" said Miss Marsh, looking over her. "Never heard of +him. How fond you are of reading, Gracie! I love it myself, but I don't +ever have time for it here."</p> + +<p>The plea being one which never fails to rouse the scorn of every +book-lover, Grace remained silent. Her solitary extravagance was the +maximum subscription to the Questerham library.</p> + +<p>"There's the bell," said Miss Marsh; "I must come up and make my bed +afterwards. Thank goodness, there's no hurry today."</p> + +<p>They went down together, Miss Marsh's heelless slippers clapping behind +her on every step.</p> + +<p>In the sitting-room after breakfast the girls clustered round the tiny +smoking fire.</p> + +<p>"It's going to rain all day. How beastly!" said Tony. "Who's going to +church?"</p> + +<p>"I shall probably go to evensong," remarked Miss Delmege, upon which +several people at once decided that they would risk the weather and go +to the eleven o'clock service.</p> + +<p>There was only one church in Questerham which the Hostel thought it +fashionable to attend.</p> + +<p>The day was spent in more or less desultory lounging over the fire. Miss +Delmege wrote a number of letters and Tony darned stockings. Grace Jones +read "Daniel Deronda" to herself.</p> + +<p>Lunch was protracted, and Mrs. Bullivant, to mark the day, exerted +herself and made some rather smoked coffee, which she brought to the +sitting-room triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"Isn't there going to be any music this afternoon?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>Every one declared that music was the very thing for such an afternoon, +but no one appeared very willing to provide it.</p> + +<p>"Do sing, somebody," implored Miss Henderson. "Plumtree?"</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree had a beautiful deep voice, utterly untrained and +consequently unspoilt. She stood up willingly enough and sang all the +songs that she was asked for. The taste of the Hostel was definite in +songs. "A Perfect Day" and "The Rosary" were listened to in the absolute +silence of appreciation, and then some one asked for a selection from +the latest musical comedy.</p> + +<p>Grace played Miss Plumtree's accompaniments, and loved listening to her +soft, deep tones. She tried to make her sing "Three Fishers," but Miss +Plumtree said no: it was too sad for a Sunday afternoon, and it was some +one else's turn.</p> + +<p>Musical talent in the Hostel was limited, and the only other owner of a +voice was Miss Delmege, the possessor of a high, thin soprano, which, +she often explained, had been the subject of much attention on the part +of "a really first-rate man in Clifton."</p> + +<p>It might remain open to question whether the energies of the really +first-rate man could not have been turned into channels more +advantageous than that of developing Miss Delmege's attenuated thread of +voice. Whatever the original organ might have been, it was now educated +into a refined squeak, overweighted with affectations which to Miss +Delmege represented the art of production. She sang various improvident +love-songs in which Love—high F, attained to by a species of upwards +slide on E and E sharp—was all, When eventide should fall—slight +tremolo and a giving out of breath rather before the accompanist had +struck the final chord.</p> + +<p>"You should take the <i>finale</i> rather more <i>à tempo</i>, dear," said the +singer, in a professional way which finally vindicated the +first-rateness of the man at Clifton.</p> + +<p>Every one thanked Miss Delmege very much, and said that was a sweetly +pretty song; and then Grace Jones played the piano while Tony and Miss +Henderson made toast for tea and put the largest and least burnt pieces +aside for her. Tea, with the aid of conversation and the making of +innumerable pieces of toast over the least smoky parts of the fire, +could almost be prolonged till supper-time.</p> + +<p>"I must say, I do enjoy doing nothing," said Miss Henderson, voicing the +general sentiment at the end of the day of rest.</p> + +<p>"Poor Mrs. Potter is on the telephone. How cold she'll be, sitting there +all the evening!"</p> + +<p>"I hope she saw to Miss Vivian's fire," said Miss Delmege solicitously. +"I particularly reminded her to build up a good fire in Miss Vivian's +room. She does feel the cold so."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she didn't come this afternoon," said Grace. "There was nothing +left over in her basket last night."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she always comes," Miss Delmege said quickly and rather +resentfully. "I've never known her miss a Sunday yet. Besides, I know +she was there today. I saw the light in her window as I came back from +church."</p> + +<p>"I do believe," said Tony in a stage whisper, "that Delmege goes to +evening church on purpose to look up at the light in Miss Vivian's +window as she comes back."</p> + +<p>But the joke was received silently, as being in but indifferent taste, +and verging on irreverence almost equally as regarded church and the +Director of the Midland Supply Depôt.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h3> + + +<p>The new Canteen in Pollard Street was opened before Christmas.</p> + +<p>Lesbia Willoughby, in an immense overall of light blue-and-white check, +stood behind a long buffet and demanded stridently whether she wasn't +too exactly like a barmaid for words, and Char's consignment of helpers +worked for the most part briskly and efficiently, only the unfortunate +Miss Plumtree upsetting a mug of scalding tea over herself at the +precise moment when Miss Vivian, trim and workmanlike in her dark +uniform, entered the big hall and stood watching the scene with her +arrogant, observant gaze. She did not ask Miss Plumtree whether her hand +was scalded, but neither did she rebuke her very evident clumsiness. She +moved slowly and imperially through the thick tobacco-laden atmosphere, +speaking to several of the men, and silently observing the demeanour of +her staff.</p> + +<p>The following week she issued an office circular in which the precise +direction which the activity of each worker was to take was inexorably +laid down.</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree was banished <i>à perpetuité</i> to the pantry, to wash up at +full speed over a sink. She worked at the Canteen on Mondays, always the +busiest evening. In the same shift were Mrs. Potter and Miss Henderson, +to each of whom was appointed the care of an urn, Grace Jones, Miss +Delmege, and Miss Marsh. Miss Delmege stood behind the buffet, which +position, she said, seemed very strange to her from being so like a +counter in a shop, and the other two took orders at the various small +tables in the hall, and hurried to and fro with laden trays.</p> + +<p>No one would have dreamed of disputing this arbitrary disposal of +energies, but it struck Grace as extremely unfortunate that Miss Marsh +and Miss Delmege should select their first Monday together at the +Canteen for the form of unpleasantness known as "words." Miss Jones +became the medium by which alone either would address the other.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, dear, but Delmege has really got on my nerves lately, and +you can tell her I said so if you like. When it comes to suggesting that +I don't do sufficient work, there's simply nothing more to be said. You +heard her the other night saying some people were so lucky they could +always get off early when they liked. Just because I'd cleared up by six +o'clock, for once in a way!"</p> + +<p>"But she didn't say she meant you," urged Miss Jones, who was far too +sympathetic not to take any grievance confided to her at the teller's +own valuation, and foresaw besides an extremely awkward evening at the +Canteen.</p> + +<p>"Some people aren't straightforward enough to say what they mean right +out, but that doesn't prevent others from seeing the point of the sort +of remarks they pass," declared Miss Marsh cryptically.</p> + +<p>"If she told you she really hadn't meant anything personal, wouldn't it +be all right?"</p> + +<p>But Grace did not make the suggestion very hopefully, and her room-mate +merely repeated gloomily that Delmege had really got on her nerves +lately, and though she did not think herself one to bear malice, yet +there were limits to all things.</p> + +<p>Grace's success with Miss Delmege on their way down the street at seven +o'clock that evening, was even less apparent.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well, dear, but I've always been <i>most</i> sensitive. I +can't help it. I know it's very silly, but there it is. As a tiny tot, +mother always used to say of me, 'That child Vera is so sensitive, she +can't bear a sharp word.' I know it's very silly to be thin-skinned, and +causes one a great deal of suffering as one goes through life, but it's +the way I'm made. I always was so."</p> + +<p>This complacent monologue lasted almost to the bottom of Pollard Street, +when Grace interrupted desperately: "Do make it up with her before we +start this job. It's so much nicer to be all cheerful together when +we've got a hard evening in front of us."</p> + +<p>"I'm quite willing to be friendly, when Miss Marsh speaks to me first. +At the present moment, dear, as you know, she's behaving very strangely +indeed, and doesn't speak to me at all. Of course, I don't mind either +way—in fact, it only amuses me—but I don't mind telling you, Gracie, +that I think her whole way of carrying on is most strange altogether."</p> + +<p>Grace felt a desperate certainty that affairs were indeed past remedy +when Miss Delmege had to resort so freely to her favourite adjective +"strange" to describe the manners and conduct of Miss Marsh.</p> + +<p>She entered the hall rather dejectedly. It was very tiring to hurry +about with heavy trays at the end of a long day's work, and the +atmosphere seemed thicker than ever tonight and the noise greater. Grace +hung up her coat and hat, and hastily made room on the already +overcrowded peg for Miss Marsh's belongings, as she heard Miss Delmege +say gently "<i>Excuse</i> me," and deliberately appropriate to her own use +the peg selected by her neighbour.</p> + +<p>"Did you see that?" demanded Miss Marsh excitedly. "Isn't that Delmege +all over? After this, Gracie, I shall simply not speak to her till she +apologizes. Simply ignore her. Believe me, dear, it's the only way. I +shall behave as though Delmege didn't exist."</p> + +<p>This threat was hardly carried out to the letter. No one could have +failed to see a poignant consciousness of Miss Delmege's existence in +the elaborate blindness and deafness which assailed Miss Marsh when +within her neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege adopted a still more trying policy, and addressed acid +remarks in a small, penetrating voice to her surroundings.</p> + +<p>"I must say the state of <i>some</i> trays is like nothing on earth!" she +said to Grace, when Miss Marsh had spilt a cup of cocoa over her +tray-cloth and brought it back to the counter for a fresh supply. "How +the poor men stand it! I must say I do like things to be <i>dainty</i> +myself. Give me a meal daintily served and I don't care what it is! All +depends what one's been used to, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"I should be awfully obliged, Gracie, if you could get hold of a clean +tray-cloth for me," said Miss Marsh furiously. "There doesn't seem to be +anybody not-what-I-call-<i>capable</i> here."</p> + +<p>Grace looked appealingly at Miss Delmege, but the pince-nez were +directed towards the roof, and Miss Delmege's elegantly curved fingers +were engaged in swiftly unloading a tray of clean plates.</p> + +<p>"A clean cloth for this tray, please," said Gracie rapidly. "There's +been a spill."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege, appearing quite capable of seeing through the back of her +head, still kept her back turned to the infuriated Miss Marsh, and said +coldly: "How very messy, dear! But I'm sure you're not responsible for +that. Some people are so strange; their fingers seem to be all thumbs."</p> + +<p>"I can't stand here all night, Gracie!" exclaimed Miss Marsh, recklessly +tipping all the dirty crockery from the tray on to the counter. "You +wouldn't let me have your cloth, I suppose, would you, dear?" At the +same time she skilfully disproved her own supposition by rapidly +possessing herself of Grace's clean tray-cloth.</p> + +<p>"Of all the coolness! Here, dear; I'll give you another one. What's your +order?"</p> + +<p>"Cup of tea, sausage and mashed, roll of bread."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege gave the short mirthless snigger with which she always +acclaimed such orders, so as to make it clear that she did not take +anything so vulgar as a sausage and mashed potatoes seriously, and +further exclaimed, "They are quaint, aren't they?" as she telephoned +through to the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Miss Jones," said Char's cool voice behind her, "I've been watching you +for the last five minutes. Kindly ask for what you want a little more +quickly. You seem to forget that the man is waiting for his supper."</p> + +<p>She waited while the order was being rapidly executed from the kitchen, +watching the two girls. Miss Delmege coloured faintly, and moved about +restlessly under the scrutiny of which she was obviously conscious, but +Grace's small, pale face had not altered, and she stood by the counter +waiting for her tray, gazing quite interestedly at a small group of new +arrivals.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby stood at the door, eagerly ushering in visitors whom she +had obviously invited to survey the scene of her activities.</p> + +<p>"This is my little job—plenty of the dear fellows here tonight, you +see. Aren't they dears, and don't they look too delightfully at home for +words? I must fly back to my barmaid's job now; you'll see me behind the +counter in another minute, Joanna. I find I have the most wonderful +talent for <i>chaff</i>—the men love it so, you know. Do come in, +John—you're my chief asset here tonight; the men will simply love your +Military Cross. I want you to come round and tell one or two of my +special pets exactly how you won it."</p> + +<p>Only the secret pressure of his Cousin Joanna's hand on his arm and the +mirthful gleam in her blue eyes prevented Captain Trevellyan, with his +Military Cross, from taking an instant departure.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian raised her <i>lorgnette</i>. "Where's Char?"</p> + +<p>"Much too busy on her high official horse even to see me," cried Lesbia +with a sort of jovial spite. "Now, Joanna, I insist upon your getting +into an overall at once, and helping me. I'll commandeer one."</p> + +<p>Grace Jones went past them with her laden tray, and Mrs. Willoughby +grasped her arm.</p> + +<p>"I want you to find me an overall for this lady before you stir another +<i>step</i>," she shrieked emphatically.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Lesbia!" interposed Lady Vivian brusquely. "I don't suppose +there is such a thing to spare, and, besides, I don't want one."</p> + +<p>She wore the plainest of dark coats and skirts and a soft silk shirt. +Grace looked at her with composed admiration and a sense of gratitude. +She did not wish to be further delayed with the heavy tray on her hands.</p> + +<p>"There's my dear Lance-Corporal!" exclaimed Lesbia, and hurled herself +in the direction of a burly form which appeared strongly impelled to +seek cover behind the piano as she advanced.</p> + +<p>Captain Trevellyan gently took the tray from Miss Jones.</p> + +<p>"Where shall I take it?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said Grace thankfully, dropping her aching arms. +"That table over there, right at the end, if you will. It's very kind of +you."</p> + +<p>She turned to Lady Vivian rather apologetically. "I'm afraid I ought not +to have let him do that, but we're rather behindhand tonight. Are you +come to help?"</p> + +<p>She supposed that this tall, curiously attractive new-comer was the wife +of one of the officers from the camp.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you'll tell me what to do."</p> + +<p>"If you'd carry trays? One of our workers is—is <i>impeded</i> tonight," +said Grace, conscientiously selecting a euphemism for the peculiar +handicap under which Miss Marsh was labouring.</p> + +<p>For the next two hours Lady Vivian worked vigorously, in spite of a +protest from John, who took the view of feminine weakness peculiar to +unusually strong men.</p> + +<p>"These trays are too heavy for any woman to carry! It's monstrous! I +shall tell Char so."</p> + +<p>"By all means tell her. I certainly think it's very bad for these girls, +and at the end of a long day's work, too. But as for me, you know I'm as +strong as a horse, Johnnie, and I enjoy the exercise. It warms me!"</p> + +<p>Her face was glowing and her step elastic. John realized, not for the +first time, that Sir Piers's slow, rambling walks round the grounds and +still slower evening games of billiards formed the major part of his +Cousin Joanna's physical activities. He stood watching her thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>Char stopped in his immediate vicinity, and gave a couple of orders in +her slow, despotic drawl. She rather wanted Johnnie to see how promptly +and unquestioningly they were received.</p> + +<p>Johnnie, however, appeared to have his thoughts elsewhere, and Char +rather vexedly followed his gaze.</p> + +<p>"How I wish my mother wouldn't do this sort of thing!" she said under +her breath. "It's most tiring for her, and besides—"</p> + +<p>"Besides?" inquired Trevellyan, always courteous, but never of the +quickest at catching an inflection.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I think it <i>infra dig</i>. Darting about with all these girls, +when she's capable of such very different sort of work—if only she'd do +it!"</p> + +<p>"My dear Char, what on earth do you want her to do?" demanded +Trevellyan, to whom it came as a shock that any one who was privileged +to live near Joanna should think her anything but perfect.</p> + +<p>"She is an extremely capable woman of business; why shouldn't she take +up some big work for the Government? They are crying out for educated +women."</p> + +<p>"She couldn't possibly leave your father alone at Plessing."</p> + +<p>"She could do a certain amount of work at home even without that. The +truth is, Johnnie, that neither she nor my father have <i>realized</i> +there's a war on at all. They've no sons out there in the trenches, and +it hasn't hit them materially; they've not felt it in any single, +smallest way. I shouldn't say it to any one but you, but there are times +at Plessing when I could go <i>mad</i>. To hear my father talk on and on +about whether some tree on the estate needs cutting or not, just as +though on the other side of a little strip of sea—"</p> + +<p>She broke off with a shudder that was not altogether histrionic.</p> + +<p>"And mother—she wouldn't even knit socks, because it interfered with +his billiards in the evenings! I don't understand her, Johnnie. She must +<i>know</i> what it all means, yet it's all shoved away in the background. +Brucey tells me that she's under standing orders not to discuss the news +in the papers at breakfast, and mother won't have a single war-book in +the house—not even a war-novel, if she can help it. It's as though they +were deliberately trying to blind themselves. I <i>can't</i> understand it."</p> + +<p>Trevellyan did not feel sure that he understood it, either, but, unlike +Char, there was in his mind no shadow of criticism for that which he did +not understand. The limitation, Trevellyan always felt, was entirely +his.</p> + +<p>But he was able to look sympathetically also at Char's vexed +bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"You're not at Plessing very much, nowadays, yourself."</p> + +<p>"No. I don't think I could bear it, Johnnie. Of course they say I'm +doing too much, but, after all, I'm of an age to decide that for myself, +and to my mind there's simply no choice in the matter. Thank Heaven one +<i>can</i> work!"</p> + +<p>"Your undertaking is a colossal thing, in its way. It's wonderful of +you, Char!"</p> + +<p>She looked pleased.</p> + +<p>"It's running well at present. Of course, I know what a tiny part of the +whole it is really, but—" She broke off quickly as Lady Vivian joined +them.</p> + +<p>"Who is the little dark-haired girl I've been working with, Char? The +one at that table...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, a Miss—er—Jones," said Char languidly.</p> + +<p>"You never told me you had any one of her sort here. I want to ask her +out to Plessing. Couldn't we take her back in the car tonight?"</p> + +<p>"My dear mother!" Char opened her eyes in an expression of exaggerated +horror. "One of my staff?"</p> + +<p>"Well?" queried Lady Vivian coolly, stripping off her borrowed overall.</p> + +<p>"Quite out of the question. You don't in the least realize the official +footing on which I have to keep those women."</p> + +<p>"I should have thought you needn't be any the less official for showing +some friendliness to a girl who's come all the way from Wales to help +you."</p> + +<p>"She's my under-secretary, mother."</p> + +<p>"What! sub-scrub to the genteel Miss Delmege? She's got ten times her +brains, and is a lady into the bargain."</p> + +<p>It infuriated Char that her mother's cool, tacit refusal to acknowledge +the infallibility of the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt could +always make her feel like a little girl again.</p> + +<p>She rallied all her most official mannerisms together.</p> + +<p>"It's quite impossible for me to differentiate between the various +members of the staff, or to make any unofficial advances to any of +them."</p> + +<p>"Very well, my dear. As, thank Heaven, I'm not a member of your staff, I +can remain as unofficial as I please, and have nice little Miss Jones +out to see me."</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Char in an agony, "it's simply <i>impossible</i>. The girl +would never know her place in the office again; and think of all the +cackling there'd be at the Questerham Hostel about my asking any one out +to Plessing. Johnnie, do tell her it's out of the question."</p> + +<p>Trevellyan looked at Joanna with a laugh in his blue eyes. He realized, +as Char would never realize, that her assumption of officialdom always +provoked her mother to the utterance of ironical threats which she had +never the slightest intention of fulfilling.</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders slightly at her daughter's vehemence, and +crossed over to where Grace Jones was putting on her coat and hat again.</p> + +<p>"Good-night. I hope you're not as tired as you look," she said with a +sort of abrupt graciousness.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, thank you. It's been an extra busy night. It was so kind of you +to help."</p> + +<p>"I wish I could come again," said Lady Vivian rather wistfully, "but I +don't know that I shall be able to."</p> + +<p>Lesbia Willoughby, dashing past them at full speed, found time to fling +a piercing rebuke over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"There's <i>always</i> a will where there's a way, Joanna. Look at me!"</p> + +<p>Neither of them took advantage of the invitation, and Joanna said +irrelevantly: "I should like you to come and see me, if you will, but I +know you're at work all day. I must try and find you next time I come +into Questerham."</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said Grace in a pleased voice. "I should like +that very much indeed. Good-night."</p> + +<p>"Good-night," repeated Joanna, and went back to where her daughter, with +a rather indignant demeanour, was waiting for her.</p> + +<p>"Well?" asked Char, rather sullenly.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian, who almost invariably became flippant when her daughter was +most in earnest, said provokingly: "Well, my dear, I've made +arrangements for all sorts of unofficial rendezvous. You may see Miss +Delmege at Plessing yet."</p> + +<p>"Miss Delmege is a very good worker," said Char icily. "She's very much +in earnest, always ready to stay overtime and finish up anything +important."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure Miss Jones is good at her job, too," said Trevellyan, +supposing himself to be tactful.</p> + +<p>"Fairly good. Not extraordinarily quick-witted, though, and much too +sure of herself. I can't help thinking it's rather a pity to distinguish +her from the others, mother; she's probably only too ready to take airs +as it is, if she's of rather a different class."</p> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks!" declared Lady Vivian briskly. "Put on your coat, Char, +and come along. I can't keep the car waiting any longer. Rather a +different class indeed! What has that to do with it? The girl's most +attractive—an original type, too."</p> + +<p>"Of course, if mother has taken one of her sudden violent fancies to +this Jones child, I may as well make up my mind to hear nothing else, +morning, noon, or night," Char muttered to John Trevellyan, who replied +with matter-of-fact common sense that Char wasn't at Plessing for more +than an hour or two on any single day, let alone morning, noon, and +night.</p> + +<p>"Char," said Lady Vivian from the car, "if you don't come now I shall +leave you to spend the night at the Questerham Hostel, where you'll lose +all your prestige with the staff, and have to eat and sleep just like an +ordinary human being."</p> + +<p>The Director of the Midland Supply Depôt got into her parent's motor in +silence, and with a movement that might have been fairly described as a +flounce.</p> + +<p>The members of the staff walked up the street towards the Hostel.</p> + +<p>"Who was the lady in black who helped with the trays?" asked Grace. "She +was so nice."</p> + +<p>"My dear, didn't you know? That was Miss Vivian's <i>mother</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, was it?" said Grace placidly. "I didn't know that. Miss Vivian +isn't very like her, is she?"</p> + +<p>"No. Of course, Miss Vivian's far better looking. I'm not saying it +because it's her," added Miss Delmege with great distinctness, for the +benefit of Miss Marsh and Mrs. Potter, walking behind, from one of whom +a sound of contemptuous mirth had proceeded faintly. "It's simply a +fact. Miss Vivian is far better looking than Lady Vivian ever was. Takes +after her father—Sir Piers Vivian he is, you know."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege had only once been afforded a view of the back of Sir Piers +Vivian's white head in church, but she made the assertion with her usual +air of genteel omniscience.</p> + +<p>At the Hostel Mrs. Bullivant was waiting for them. It was past eleven +o'clock, and the fire had gone out soon after eight; but in spite of +cold and weariness, Mrs. Bullivant was unconquerably bright.</p> + +<p>"Come along; I'll have some nice hot tea for you in a moment. The kettle +is on the gas-ring. I <i>am</i> sorry the fire's out, but it smoked so badly +all the evening I thought I'd better leave it alone. Sit down; I'm sure +you're all tired."</p> + +<p>"Simply dead," exclaimed Miss Marsh. "So are you, aren't you, Plumtree, +after all those awful plates and dishes—I must say your washing-up job +is the worst of the lot."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to bed. I can't keep on my feet another minute, tea or no +tea. If I don't drag myself upstairs now I never shall. It's fatal to +sit down; one can't get up again."</p> + +<p>"That's right," assented Miss Marsh. "I'll bring up your tea when I +come, dear."</p> + +<p>"Angel, thanks awfully. Good-night, ladies and gentlemen."</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree left the sitting-room with this languidly facetious +valediction.</p> + +<p>"That girl <i>does</i> look tired. I hope she gets into bed quickly," +observed Mrs. Potter, pulling off her hat and exposing a rakishly +<i>décoiffé</i> tangle of wispy hair.</p> + +<p>"Not she—she'll dawdle for ages," prophesied Miss Marsh. "Still, it's +something if she gets into her dressing-gown and bedroom slippers, out +of her corsets, you know."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege put down her cup of tea.</p> + +<p>"Rather a strange subject we seem to be on for meal-time, don't we?" she +remarked detachedly to Grace.</p> + +<p>"Meal-time?" exclaimed Miss Henderson derisively.</p> + +<p>"That's what I said, dear, and I'm in the habit of meaning what I say, +as far as I know."</p> + +<p>"I really don't know how you can call it meal-time when we're not even +at table. Besides, if we were, there's nothing <i>in</i> what Marsh +said—absolutely nothing at all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course, some people see harm in anything," burst out Miss Marsh, +very red. "The harm is in their own minds, is what I say, otherwise they +wouldn't see any."</p> + +<p>"That's right," agreed Miss Henderson, but below her breath.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege turned with dignity to her other neighbour.</p> + +<p>"I may be peculiar, but that's how I feel about it. I imagine that you, +as a married woman, will agree with me, Mrs. Potter?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Potter did not agree with her at all, but something in the appeal, +some subtle hint of the dignity of Mrs. Potter's position amongst so +many virgins, caused her to temporize feebly.</p> + +<p>"Really, Miss Delmege, you mustn't ask me. I—I quite see with you—but +at the same time—there wasn't anything in what Miss Marsh said, now, +was there? I mean, really. Simply corsets, you know."</p> + +<p>Nearly every one had by this time forgotten exactly what Miss Marsh +<i>had</i> said, and only retained a general impression of licentiousness in +conversation.</p> + +<p>"We're all girls together," exclaimed Miss Marsh furiously.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen in the room would be a very different thing," Miss Henderson +supported her.</p> + +<p>"I'll take a second cup, Mrs. Bullivant, if you please," said Miss +Delmege with dignity.</p> + +<p>"There!" exclaimed Miss Henderson.</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh had suddenly begun to cry.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bullivant hastily poured out more tea, and said uncertainly: "Come, +come!"</p> + +<p>"There's no call for any one to cry, that I can see," observed Miss +Delmege, still detached, but in a tone of uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"The fact is, I'm not myself today," sobbed Miss Marsh.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" said Gracie sympathetically. She slipped a friendly hand +into her room-mate's.</p> + +<p>"I had a letter which upset me this morning. A great friend of mine, +who's been wounded—a boy I know most awfully well."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me, dear?" asked Miss Henderson. "I didn't even +know you had a boy out there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not a <i>feawncy</i>—only a chum," said Miss Marsh, still sniffing.</p> + +<p>"Is he bad, dear?"</p> + +<p>"A flesh-wound in the arm, and something about trench feet."</p> + +<p>"That's a nice slow thing, and they'll send him to England to get well," +prophesied Grace.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege rose from her seat.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry you've been feeling upset," she said to Miss Marsh. "It seems +rather strange you didn't say anything sooner, but I'm sorry about it."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," Miss Marsh replied with a gulp. "If I've been rather sharp +in my manner today, I hope you won't think I meant anything. This has +rather upset me."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege bowed slightly, and Grace, fearing an anticlimax, begged +Miss Marsh to come up to bed.</p> + +<p>The final amende was made next morning, when Miss Delmege, in a +buff-coloured drapery known as "my fawn <i>peignwaw</i>," came to the door +and asked for admittance.</p> + +<p>Grace opened the door, and Miss Delmege said, in a voice even more +distinct than usual: "I know Miss Marsh was tired last night, dear, so +I've brought her a cup of our early tea."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h3> + + +<p>"Mother, are you coming to the Canteen again tomorrow? You remember what +a rush it was last Monday, and it'll be just as bad again."</p> + +<p>"No, Char, I am <i>not</i>," was the unvarnished reply of Lady Vivian.</p> + +<p>Char compressed her lips and sighed. She would have been almost as much +disappointed as surprised if her mother had suddenly expressed an +intention of appearing regularly at the Canteen, but she knew that Miss +Bruce was looking at her with an admiring and compassionate gaze.</p> + +<p>Sir Piers, who substituted chess for billiards on Sunday evenings +because he thought it due to the servants to show that the Lord's Day +was respected at Plessing, looked up uneasily.</p> + +<p>"You're not going out again tomorrow, eh, my dear? I missed our game +sadly the other night."</p> + +<p>"No, it's all right; I'm not going again."</p> + +<p>Joanna never raised her voice very much, but Sir Piers always heard what +she said. It made Char wonder sometimes, half irritably and half +ashamedly, whether he could not have heard other people, had he wanted +to. The overstrain from which she herself was quite unconsciously +suffering made her nervously impatient of the old man's increasing +slowness of perception.</p> + +<p>"And where has Char been all this afternoon? I never see you about the +house now," Sir Piers said, half maunderingly, half with a sort of +bewilderment that was daily increasing in his view of small outward +events.</p> + +<p>"I've been at my work," said Char, raising her voice, partly as a vent +to her own feelings. "I go into the office on Sunday afternoons always, +and a very good thing I do, too. They were making a fearful muddle of +some telegrams yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Telegrams? You can't send telegrams on a Sunday, child; they aren't +delivered. I don't like you to go to this place on Sundays, either. +Joanna, my dear, we mustn't allow her to do that."</p> + +<p>Char cast up her eyes in a sort of desperation, and went into the +further half of the drawing-room, where Miss Bruce sat, just hearing her +mother say gently: "Look, Piers, I shall take your castle."</p> + +<p>"Brucey," said Char, "I think they'll drive me mad. I know my work is +nothing, really—such a tiny, infinitesimal part of a great whole—but +if I could only get a <i>little</i> sympathy. It does seem so extraordinary, +when one has been working all day, giving one's whole self to it all, +and then to come back to this sort of atmosphere!"</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce was perhaps the only person with whom Char was absolutely +unreserved. In younger days Miss Bruce had been her adoring governess, +and the old relations still existed between them. Char knew that Miss +Bruce had always thought Lady Vivian's management of her only child +terribly injudicious, and that in the prolonged antagonism between +herself and her mother Miss Bruce's silent loyalty had always ranged +itself on Char's side.</p> + +<p>"It's very hard on you, my dear," she sighed. "But I have been afraid +lately—have you noticed, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Piers seems to me to be failing; he is so much deafer, so much more +dependent on Lady Vivian."</p> + +<p>"He's always <i>that</i>," said Char. "I think it's only the beginning of the +winter, Brucey. He always feels the cold weather."</p> + +<p>But a very little while later Miss Bruce's view received unexpected +corroboration.</p> + +<p>Three Sundays later, when the weather had grown colder than ever, and +Char was, as usual, spending the afternoon and evening at the Depôt, +Mrs. Willoughby paid a call at Plessing.</p> + +<p>She was followed into the room, with almost equal unwillingness, by her +husband and a small, immensely stout Pekinese dog, with bulging eyes and +a quick, incessant bark that only Mrs. Willoughby's voice could +dominate.</p> + +<p>"Darling Joanna!" she shrieked. "Puffles, wicked, wicked boy, be quiet! +Isn't this an invasion? But my Lewis did so want—I shall smack 'oo if +'oo isn't quiet directly. <i>Do</i> you mind this little brown boy, who goes +<i>everywhere</i> with his mammy? I knew you'd love him if you saw him—but +<i>such</i> a noise! Lewis, tell this naughty Puff his mother can't hear +herself speak."</p> + +<p>"Down, sir!" said Lewis, in tones which might have quelled a mastiff +with hydrophobia.</p> + +<p>Puff waddled for refuge to his mistress, who immediately gathered him on +to her lap as she sank on to the sofa.</p> + +<p>"Did 'oo daddy speak in a big rough voice, and frighten the poor little +manikin?" she inquired solicitously. "Isn't he <i>rather</i> twee, Joanna?"</p> + +<p>"I've not seen it before," said Joanna, in tones more civil than +enthusiastic.</p> + +<p>"It!" screamed Lesbia. "She calls 'oo <i>it</i>, my Puffles! as though he +wasn't the sweetest little brown boy in the whole world. It! You've hurt +his little feelings too dreadfully, my dear—look at him sulking!"</p> + +<p>Puff had composed himself into a sort of dribbling torpor.</p> + +<p>"That dog doesn't get enough exercise," said Major Willoughby suddenly, +fixing his eyes upon his hostess.</p> + +<p>"Surely it—he—is too small to require a great deal," said Lady Vivian +languidly. Lap-dogs bored her very much indeed, and she turned away her +eyes after taking one rather disgusted look at the recumbent Puff +through her eyeglasses.</p> + +<p>"Train up a dog in the way it should go. Now, this little fellah—you'd +hardly believe it, Lady Vivian, if I were to tell you the difference in +him after he's had a good run over the Common."</p> + +<p>"Lewis!" cried Lesbia, opening her eyes to an incredible extent, as was +her wont whenever she wished to emphasize her words. "I <i>can't</i> have you +boring people about Puff. Lewis is a perfect slave to Puffles, and tries +to hide it by calling him 'the dog' and talking about his training."</p> + +<p>Lewis looked self-conscious, and immediately said: "Not at all; not at +all. But the dog is an intelligent little brute. Now, I'll tell you what +happened the other day."</p> + +<p>Major Willoughby gave various instances of Puff's discrimination, and +Lesbia kissed the top of Puff's somnolent head and exclaimed shrilly at +intervals that "it was too, too bad to pay the little treasure so many +compliments; it would turn his little fluffy head, it would."</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian reflected that she might certainly absolve herself from the +charge of contributing to this catastrophe. The language of compliment +had seldom been further from her lips; but in any case her visitors left +her little of the trouble of sustaining conversation.</p> + +<p>It was evident that Puff was a recent acquisition in the Willoughby +<i>ménage</i>.</p> + +<p>"Where's your dear girl?" Lesbia presently inquired fondly of her +hostess.</p> + +<p>"In Questerham, at the Depôt."</p> + +<p>"Now, Joanna, I'm going to be perfectly candid. You won't mind, I +know—after all, you and I were girls together. What Char needs, my +dear, is <i>flogging</i>."</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian was conscious of distinct relief at the thought that her +secretary did not happen to be within earshot of this startling +expression of opinion.</p> + +<p>"You are certainly being perfectly candid, Lesbia," she said dryly. +"What has poor Char been doing to require flogging, may I ask?"</p> + +<p>"You ask me that, Joanna! Lewis, hark at her!"</p> + +<p>Lewis, thus appealed to, looked very uncomfortable, and said in a +non-committal manner: "H'm, yes, yes. Hi! Puff!—good dog, sir!" thus +rousing the Pekinese to a fresh outburst of ear-piercing barks.</p> + +<p>When this had at length been quelled by the blandishments of Lesbia and +the words of command repeatedly given in a martial tone by her husband, +Lady Vivian repeated her inquiry, and Mrs. Willoughby replied forcibly: +"My dear, nothing but flogging would ever bring her to her senses. The +way she's treating you and poor dear Sir Piers! He's looking iller and +older every day, and tells me himself that he never sees her now; it's +too piteous to hear him, dear old thing. It would wring tears from a +stone—wouldn't it, Lewis?"</p> + +<p>"Down, sir, down, I say!" was the reply of Major Willoughby, addressed +to the investigating Puff.</p> + +<p>"Oh, naughty boy, leave the screen alone. Now, come here to mother, +then. What was I telling you, Joanna? Oh, about that girl of yours. +War-work is all very well, my dear, but to <i>my</i> mind home-ties are +absolutely sacred, and more than ever before in such a time as this, +when we may all be swept away by some ghastly air-raid in a night. It's +simply a time when homes should <i>cling</i> together. I always tell my Lewis +it's a time when we should <i>cling</i> more than ever before—don't I, +Lewis?"</p> + +<p>Lewis looked at Puff with a compelling eye, but Puff was again +quiescent, and gave him no opening.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian said, very briskly indeed: "Char is not at all a clinging +person, Lesbia, and neither am I. We can each stand very comfortably on +our own feet, and I'm proud of the work she's doing in Questerham. Now, +do let me give you some tea."</p> + +<p>"Joanna, I know perfectly well you're snubbing me and telling me to mind +my own business, but Lewis can tell you that I'm perfectly impervious. I +<i>always</i> say exactly what I want to say, and if you won't listen to me, +I shall talk to your good man. I can hear him coming."</p> + +<p>The entrance of Sir Piers Vivian was the signal for a frantic uproar +from Puff, who hurled a shrill defiance at him from the hearth-rug, +which he so exactly matched in colour as to be indistinguishable from +it.</p> + +<p>"Bless me, Joanna, what's all this?" inquired the astonished Sir Piers, +looking all round him in search of the monster from which so much noise +could proceed.</p> + +<p>He failed to perceive it, and stumbled heavily over the hearth-rug.</p> + +<p>There was a howl from Puff; Lesbia cried, "Oh, my little manikin, is 'oo +deaded?" Major Willoughby exclaimed in agonized tones to his host, "By +Jove! the dog got in your way, sir, I'm afraid;" and to Puff, "Get out +of the light, sir; what are you doing there?" and Lady Vivian gave a +sudden irrepressible peal of laughter.</p> + +<p>So that Lesbia, taking her departure half an hour later, remarked +conclusively to her Lewis that the strain of this dreadful war was +making poor dear Joanna Vivian positively hysterical.</p> + +<p>She repeated the same alarming statement for Char's benefit next time +she saw her at the Canteen. "I shouldn't say it, my dear child, but that +your darling mother and I were girls together, and it's simply breaking +my heart to see how broken up your father is, and no one to take any of +the strain of it off <i>her</i>."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby spoke in her usual penetrating accents, and without any +regard for the fact that at least three members of Miss Vivian's staff +were well within earshot.</p> + +<p>"No one can be keener than I am about doing one's bit for this ghastly +war, but I do think, dear, that your place just now is at home—at least +part of each day. You won't mind an old friend's speaking quite, quite +plainly, I know."</p> + +<p>Char minded so much that she was white with annoyance.</p> + +<p>"I can't discuss it here," she said, in a voice even lower than usual, +in rebukeful contrast to Lesbia's screeching tones. "I should be only +too thankful if I could get my place satisfactorily filled here, but at +present it's perfectly impossible for me to leave even for an hour or +two. I very often don't get time even for lunch nowadays."</p> + +<p>"Simply because you enjoy making a martyr of yourself!" said Mrs. +Willoughby spitefully.</p> + +<p>Char, dropping her eyelids in a manner that gave her a look of +incredible insolence, moved away without replying.</p> + +<p>For the next week she worked harder than ever, multiplying letters and +incessant interviews, and depriving herself daily of an extra hour's +sleep in the morning by starting for the Depôt earlier than usual, so as +to cope with the press of business. It was her justification to herself +for Mrs. Willoughby's crude accusations and the unspoken reproach in Sir +Piers's feeble bewilderment at her activities.</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree fell ill with influenza, and Char took over her work, and +arranged with infinite trouble to herself that Miss Plumtree should go +to a small convalescent home in the country, because the doctor said she +needed change of air. She was to incur no expense, Char told her, very +kindly, and even remembered to order a cab for her at the country +station. Miss Plumtree, owning that she could never have afforded a +journey to her home in Devonshire, cried tears of mingled weakness and +gratitude, and told the Hostel all that Miss Vivian had done.</p> + +<p>Everybody said it was exactly like Miss Vivian, and that she really was +too wonderful.</p> + +<p>Then the demon of influenza began its yearly depredations. One member of +the staff after another went down with it, was obliged to plead illness +and go to bed at the Hostel, and inevitably pass on the complaint to her +room-mate.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid Mrs. Potter won't be coming today," Miss Delmege announced +deprecatingly to her chief, who struck the table with her hand and +exclaimed despairingly:</p> + +<p>"Of course! just because there's more to be done than ever! Influenza, I +suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it is."</p> + +<p>"That's five of them down with it now—or is it six? I don't know <i>what</i> +to do."</p> + +<p>"It does seem strange," was the helpless rejoinder of Miss Vivian's +secretary.</p> + +<p>Char thought the adjective inadequate to a degree. She abated not one +jot of all that she had undertaken, and accomplished the work of six +people.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege several times ventured to exclaim, with a sort of +respectful despair, that Miss Vivian would kill herself, and Char knew +that the rest of the staff was saying much the same thing behind her +back. At Plessing Miss Bruce remonstrated admiringly, and exclaimed +every day how tired Char was looking, throwing at the same time a rather +resentful glance upon Lady Vivian.</p> + +<p>But Joanna remained quite unperceiving of the dark lines deepening daily +beneath her daughter's heavy eyes.</p> + +<p>She was entirely absorbed in Sir Piers, becoming daily more dependent +upon her.</p> + +<p>The day came, when the influenza epidemic was at its height in +Questerham, when Miss Bruce exclaimed in tones of scarcely suppressed +indignation as Char came downstairs after the usual hasty breakfast +which she had in her own room: "My dear, you're not fit to go. Really +you're not; you ought to be in bed this moment. Do, do let me telephone +and say you can't come today. Indeed, it isn't right. You look as though +you hadn't slept all night."</p> + +<p>"I haven't, much," said Char hoarsely. "I have a cold, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian was coughing half the night," thrust in her maid, hovering +in the hall laden with wraps.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't go!" cried Miss Bruce distractedly.</p> + +<p>"You really aren't fit, Miss."</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian appeared at the head of the stairs.</p> + +<p>"What's all this?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lady Vivian," cried the secretary, "do look at her! She ought to be +in bed."</p> + +<p>Char said: "Nonsense!" impatiently, but she gave her mother an +opportunity for seeing that her face was white and drawn, with heavily +ringed eyes and feverish lips.</p> + +<p>"You've got influenza, Char."</p> + +<p>"I dare say," said Char in tones of indifference. "It would be very odd +if I'd escaped, since half the office is down with it. But I can't +afford to give in."</p> + +<p>"It would surely be truer economy to take a day off now than to risk a +real breakdown later on," was the time-worn argument urged by Miss +Bruce.</p> + +<p>Char smiled with pale decision.</p> + +<p>"Let me pass, Brucey. I really mean it."</p> + +<p>"Lady Vivian!" wailed the secretary.</p> + +<p>Joanna shrugged her shoulders. She, too, looked weary.</p> + +<p>"Be reasonable, Char."</p> + +<p>"It's of no use, mother. I shouldn't dream of giving in while there's +work to be done."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce gave a sort of groan of mingled admiration and despair at +this heroic statement. Char slipped her arms into the fur coat that her +maid was holding out for her.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian stood at the top of the stairs looking at her with an air of +detached consideration, and left Miss Bruce to make those hurried +dispositions of foot-warmer, fur rug, and little bottles of sulphate and +quinine which, the secretary resentfully felt, a more maternal woman +would have taken upon herself.</p> + +<p>But Lady Vivian's omissions were not destined to provide the only one, +or even the most severe, of the shocks received by Miss Bruce's +sensibilities that morning.</p> + +<p>As Char extended her hand for the last of Miss Bruce's offerings, a +small green bottle of highly pungent smelling salts, Lady Vivian's +incisive tones came levelly from above.</p> + +<p>"You'd better stay the night at Questerham, Char. It will be very cold +driving back after dark."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, mother. Besides, I don't know where I could go. I hate the +hotel, and one can't inflict an influenza cold on other people."</p> + +<p>"You can go to your Hostel. Surely there's a spare bed?"</p> + +<p>The ghost of a smile flickered upon Lady Vivian's face, as though in +mischievous anticipation of Char's refusal.</p> + +<p>"It's quite out of the question. The Hostel is for my staff, and it +would be very unsuitable for me, as Director of the Midland Supply +Depôt, to go there too."</p> + +<p>"Bless me! are they as exclusive as all that?" exclaimed Joanna +flippantly. "Well, do as you like, but if you come back here, you're not +to go near your father, with a cold like that."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce, almost before she knew it, found herself exchanging a glance +of indignation with Char's maid, but she was conscious enough of her own +dignity to look away again in a great hurry.</p> + +<p>"You will certainly want to go straight to bed when you come in," she +said to Char, pointedly enough. "We will have everything ready and a +nice fire in your room."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Brucey."</p> + +<p>Char bestowed her rare smile upon the little agitated secretary, and +moved across the hall.</p> + +<p>She felt very ill, with violent pains in her head and back, and shivered +intermittently.</p> + +<p>Leaning back in her heavy coat, under the fur rug, Char closed her eyes. +She reflected on the dismay with which Miss Delmege would greet her, +and wondered rather grimly whether any further members of her staff +would have succumbed to the prevailing illness. She knew that only a +will of iron could surmount such physical ills as she was herself +enduring, and dreaded the moment when she must rouse herself from her +present torpid discomfort to the necessity of moving and speaking.</p> + +<p>As she got out of the car, Char reeled and almost fell, in an +intolerable spasm of giddiness, and her progress up the stairs was only +made possible by the remnant of strength which allowed her to grasp the +baluster and lean her full weight upon it as she dragged herself into +her office.</p> + +<p>She was, however, met with no wail of condolence from the genteel +accents of Miss Delmege.</p> + +<p>Grace Jones, composedly solid and healthy-looking, said placidly: +"Good-morning. I'm sorry to say that Miss Delmege is in bed with +influenza."</p> + +<p>"In bed!"</p> + +<p>"She had a very restless night and has a temperature this morning."</p> + +<p>"She was all right yesterday."</p> + +<p>"She had a sore throat, you know," remarked Grace, "but she didn't at +all want to give in, and is very much distressed."</p> + +<p>Char raised her heavy eyes.</p> + +<p>"You all seem to me to collapse like a pack of cards, one after another. +I think <i>my</i> bed would prove a bed of thorns while there's so much work +to do, and so few people to do it. In fact, I can't imagine wanting to +go there."</p> + +<p>She made an infinitesimal pause, shaken by one of those violent, +involuntary, shivering fits. Miss Jones gazed at her chief.</p> + +<p>"I think I can manage Miss Delmege's work," she observed gently.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I shall have to go through most of it myself, of course," was the +ungrateful retort of the suffering Miss Vivian.</p> + +<p>The day appeared to her interminable. The air was damp and raw; and +although Miss Jones piled coal upon the fire, it refused to blaze up, +and only smouldered in a sullen heap, with a small curling column of +yellow smoke at the top. A traction-engine ground and screamed and +pounded its way up and down under the window, and each time it passed +directly in front of the house the floor and walls of Char's room shook +slightly, with a vibration that made her feel sick and giddy.</p> + +<p>There were no interviews, but letters and telephone messages poured in +incessantly, and at about twelve o'clock a telegram marked "Priority" +was brought her. With a sinking sense of utter dismay, Char tore it +open.</p> + +<p>"A rest-station for a troop-train at five o'clock this afternoon. Eight +hundred. Miss Jones, please let the Commissariat Department know at +once. The staff should be at the station by three. I'll make out the +list at once, and you can take it round the office."</p> + +<p>By four o'clock a fine cold rain was falling, and Char's voice had +nearly gone.</p> + +<p>As she hurried down to her car, which was to take her to the station, +she heard an incautiously raised voice: "She does look so ill! Of course +it's flu, and I should think this rest-station will just about finish +her off."</p> + +<p>"Not she! I do believe she'd stick it out if she were dying. No lunch +today, either, only a cup of Bovril, which I simply had to force her to +take."</p> + +<p>Char recognized the voice of Miss Henderson, who had received her order +for lunch in place of Miss Delmege, and had ventured to suggest the +Bovril in tones of the utmost deference.</p> + +<p>She smiled slightly.</p> + +<p>The troop-train was late.</p> + +<p>"Of course!" muttered Char, pacing up and down the sheltered platform +with the fur collar of her motoring coat turned up, and her hands deep +in its wide pockets.</p> + +<p>In the waiting-rooms, given over to the workers for the time being, the +staff was active.</p> + +<p>Sandwiches were cut, and heavy trays and urns carried out in readiness, +while orderlies from the hospitals put up light trestle tables at +intervals along the platform.</p> + +<p>Char paused, turned the handle of the waiting-room door, and stood for a +moment on the threshold.</p> + +<p>Every one was talking. Trays piled with cut and stacked sandwiches were +ranged all round the room; tin mugs, again on trays, stood in groups of +twelve; and the final spoonfuls of sugar were being scooped from a tin +biscuit-box into the waiting bowl on each tray. Even the cake was +already cut, sliced up on innumerable plates.</p> + +<p>They had been working hard, and had more work to come, yet they all +looked gay and amused, and were talking and laughing as though they did +not know the meaning of fatigue. And Char was feeling so ill that she +could hardly stand.</p> + +<p>Suddenly some one caught sight of her, there was a sort of murmur, "Miss +Vivian!" and in one moment self-consciousness invaded the room. Those +who were sitting down stood up, trying to look at ease; little Miss +Anthony, who had been manipulating the bread-cutting machine with great +success all the afternoon, at once cut her finger with it, and some one +else suddenly dropped a mug with a reverberating clatter.</p> + +<p>"Miss Cox!"</p> + +<p>She sprang forward nervously.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Vivian?"</p> + +<p>"How many sandwiches have you got ready?"</p> + +<p>"Sixteen hundred, Miss Vivian. That'll be two for each man, and they're +very large."</p> + +<p>"Cut another hundred, for reserve."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>They began to work again, this time speaking almost in whispers.</p> + +<p>Char turned away.</p> + +<p>Her personality, as usual, had had its effect.</p> + +<p>Nearly twenty minutes later the station-master came up to her on the +platform.</p> + +<p>"She'll be in directly now, Miss Vivian. Just signalled."</p> + +<p>Char wheeled smartly back to the waiting-room and gave the word of +command.</p> + +<p>Within five minutes the urns and trays were all in place on the tables, +and each worker was at her appointed stand. Char had indicated +beforehand, as she always did, the exact duties of each one.</p> + +<p>"That's a smart bit of work," the station-master remarked admiringly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, you see, I've been at the job some time now," said Miss +Vivian, pleased. She never pretended to look upon her staff as anything +but a collection of pawns, to be placed or disposed of by a master hand.</p> + +<p>And it was part of that strength of personality that lay at the back of +all her powers of organization, which had given the majority of her +staff exactly the same impression as her own of their relative positions +with regard to the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h3> + + +<p>Char moved up and down the length of the train.</p> + +<p>She never carried any of the laden trays herself, but she saw to it that +no man missed his mug of steaming tea and supply of sandwiches and cake, +and she exerted all the affability and charm of which she held the +secret, in talking to the soldiers. The packets of cigarettes with which +she was always laden added to her popularity, and when the train steamed +slowly out of the station again the men raised a cheer.</p> + +<p>"Three cheers for Miss Vivian!"</p> + +<p>Her name had passed like lightning from one carriage to another.</p> + +<p>"Hooray-ay."</p> + +<p>They hung out of the window, waving their caps, and Char stood at the +end of the platform, heedless of the rain now pouring down on her, and +waved until the train was out of sight.</p> + +<p>"Start washing up and packing the things at once."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>The waiting-room was already seething and full of steam from the zinc +pans of boiling water into which mugs and knives were being flung with +deafening clatter.</p> + +<p>"Here, chuck me a dry cloth! Mine's wringing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, look out, dear! You're splashing your uniform like anything."</p> + +<p>"I've got such a lot of work waiting for me when I get back to the +office."</p> + +<p>"Poor fellows, they did look bad! Did you see one chap, quite a young +fellow, too, with his poor leg and all...."</p> + +<p>Char turned away impatiently.</p> + +<p>Thank Heaven, there was nothing further for her to do at the station.</p> + +<p>The work at the office would be heavy enough, but at least she had not +to stand amongst that noisy crew of workers round the big packing-cases +and wash-tubs, each one screaming so as to make herself heard above the +splashing water and clattered crockery.</p> + +<p>It did not occur to her, as the car took her swiftly back to the office, +also to be thankful that neither had she to walk back, as they had, in +the streaming rain and cold of the dark evening.</p> + +<p>She swallowed one of Miss Bruce's quinine tablets with her hot tea, but +was unable to eat anything, and sat over her letters with throbbing +temples and a temperature that she felt to be rising rapidly. She pored +over each simplest sentence again and again, unable to attach any +meaning to the words dancing before her aching, swimming eyes.</p> + +<p>Soon after half-past six Grace Jones came back from the station, her +pale face glowing from the wind and rain, unabated vigour in her +movements.</p> + +<p>"Have you only just got back?"</p> + +<p>"I had some tea downstairs. I've been in about ten minutes."</p> + +<p>Char raised her eyebrows with an expression that would have caused Miss +Delmege ostentatiously to refrain from tea every day for a week, had it +been directed towards herself.</p> + +<p>But Miss Jones only said tranquilly: "Is there anything that I can do +for you?"</p> + +<p>"No. Yes. You can answer that telephone."</p> + +<p>The bell had suddenly sounded, and Char felt no strength to exert the +swollen, aching muscles of her throat.</p> + +<p>Grace took up the receiver.</p> + +<p>"They want to speak to you from Plessing."</p> + +<p>Char checked an exclamation of impatience. If only Brucey wouldn't +<i>fuss</i> so! She might know by this time that it was of no use.</p> + +<p>"Please say that I can't take a private call from here. Ask if it's on +business."</p> + +<p>She waited impatiently.</p> + +<p>"It's not on business—it's important. Lady Vivian is speaking."</p> + +<p>Char almost snatched the receiver.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she asked curtly.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Char?" came over the wires.</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian speaking," returned Char officially, for the benefit of +Miss Jones.</p> + +<p>"Your father is ill. He has had a very slight stroke, and I want you to +bring out Dr. Prince in the car."</p> + +<p>"How bad is he? Have you had any one?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Dr. Clark came up from the village, but he suggested sending for +Dr. Prince at once. He is unconscious, of course, and there isn't any +immediate danger; he may get over it altogether, but—this is the first +minute I've had—I am going back to him now. Come as soon as you can, +Char, and bring the doctor. I can't get him on the telephone, but you +must get hold of him somehow."</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes. Is there anything else?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing now, my dear. By great good luck John is here, and most +helpful. He carried your father upstairs. Only don't delay, will you?"</p> + +<p>"No. I'll come at once. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye."</p> + +<p>Char replaced the receiver, feeling dazed.</p> + +<p>Involuntarily her first sensation was one of injury that any one should +be more ill than she was herself, and able to excite so much stir.</p> + +<p>The next moment she regained possession of herself.</p> + +<p>"Miss Jones, ring up the garage and tell them to send my car round +immediately. Sir Piers Vivian has been taken ill, and I am going out to +Plessing at once. Tell them to hurry."</p> + +<p>Grace obeyed, and Char began feverishly to make order amongst the pile +of papers on her table.</p> + +<p>"I'm leaving a lot undone," she muttered, "but I suppose I shall be here +tomorrow morning. I must be."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later the car was at the door.</p> + +<p>"Miss Jones, see that all <i>these</i> go tonight," Char rapidly instructed +her secretary. "The letters I haven't been able to sign must be held +over till tomorrow. By the way, didn't the—er—your Hostel +Superintendent say that she wanted an appointment with me this evening?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bullivant? Yes. She was coming at eight."</p> + +<p>"Then, please tell her what's happened, and say that I will arrange to +see her some time tomorrow. That's all, I think."</p> + +<p>"I hope Sir Piers Vivian will be better by the time you get back."</p> + +<p>"I hope so. Thank you. Good-night, Miss Jones."</p> + +<p>Char hurried downstairs, hoping that the tone of her voice had put Miss +Jones into her proper place again. She did not encourage personal +amenities between herself and her staff.</p> + +<p>It was nearly nine o'clock before she got to Plessing. It had taken a +long while to find Dr. Prince, and the chauffeur drove with maddening +precautions through a thick wet mist along the sodden, slippery roads.</p> + +<p>"A broken leg or two would delay us worse," said the doctor +philosophically.</p> + +<p>He was a bearded, hard-working man, with a reputation that extended +beyond the Midlands.</p> + +<p>After finding out from Char that she knew little or nothing of her +father's state of health, he asked her with a quick look: "And yourself, +Miss Charmian? You look rather washed out."</p> + +<p>Char gave a short, hoarse cough, semi-involuntary, at this unflattering +description.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I'm in the midst of an influenza attack. My staff have all +been down with it, more or less. However, I can't afford to give way to +that sort of thing now; there's far too much work to be done."</p> + +<p>"You ought to take six months' holiday," said the doctor decidedly, and +relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>Char wondered if he were meditating an appeal to her. It must outrage +his professional instincts to see any one looking as she did still upon +her feet. The doctor, however, who had been up since two o'clock that +morning, was merely trying to snatch some sleep.</p> + +<p>He had known Char Vivian all her life, and had no thought whatever of +wasting appeals upon her.</p> + +<p>At Plessing, Trevellyan met them in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Good-evening, Char," he greeted her. "Sir Piers is much the same. Not +conscious. Will you go up, doctor? They'll have some dinner ready by the +time you come down. I'm afraid you've had a cold drive."</p> + +<p>"Freezing," answered Char, with a violent shiver.</p> + +<p>"Better go to bed," said the doctor, without looking at her, as he went +upstairs.</p> + +<p>Char, still in her fur coat, hung over the fire.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what's happened, Johnnie."</p> + +<p>"Cousin Joanna says that he was very restless and low-spirited last +night—talked about the war, you know, and this last air-raid. And when +he came down this morning he suddenly turned giddy and fell across the +hall sofa. Luckily it wasn't on the floor. Cousin Joanna was with him, +and they got him flat on the sofa, and sent for Clark. I got here about +the same time as he did, by pure chance—came over for a day's shooting, +you know—and between us we carried him upstairs. By Jove! he's no light +weight for a man of his years, either."</p> + +<p>"What does Dr. Clark think?"</p> + +<p>"That he'll probably recover consciousness in a day or two. But even +then—don't be frightened, Char; it's only what generally happens in +these cases—his—his words probably won't come quite right, you know. +He may speak, but not quite normally."</p> + +<p>Char smiled a little at her cousin's look of anxious solicitude for the +effect of his surmises upon her.</p> + +<p>"I'm not without hospital experience, you know," she said gently. "It's +the left side of the brain, then? Is his right side paralyzed?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so—arm and hand, you know. We shall see what Prince says."</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and Char said hoarsely: "I wonder if I ought to go +up?"</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Miss Vivian?" came the voice of Miss Bruce from the +stairs.</p> + +<p>Char turned and went slowly up to her.</p> + +<p>Trevellyan did not see her again that evening, and Miss Bruce told him +later, with rather a reproachful look, that poor Miss Vivian was not fit +to be up.</p> + +<p>"It was a shock to her, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"Yes—oh yes; but she really was dreadfully ill when she went out this +morning. She ought never, never to have been allowed to leave the +house."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say she's going to be ill too?" exclaimed Trevellyan +in tones of dismay.</p> + +<p>He was thinking that Joanna had enough anxiety as it was; but Miss Bruce +attributed his tones entirely to concern on behalf of her adored Miss +Vivian, and looked at him more amiably.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's influenza, but a couple of days in bed will make all +the difference, and now that, of course, there's no question of her +leaving the house, she'll be able to take care of herself for once."</p> + +<p>"There she is," said Captain Trevellyan, and strode across the hall to +meet his Cousin Joanna and the doctor.</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce waited to hear Dr. Prince's verdict, and then went quietly up +to Char's room, with offers of service that aroused the unconcealed +wrath of Char's devoted maid.</p> + +<p>"I don't want anything," Miss Vivian declared wearily. "As soon as I +know whether I may see father, I can go to bed—or go up to him, as the +case may be. But I suppose my mother means to come down to me some +time?"</p> + +<p>There was more than a hint of resentment in her wearied voice.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell her ladyship you're here, miss?" asked the maid gently.</p> + +<p>"She knows it," said Char shortly. "I brought Dr. Prince."</p> + +<p>The zealous Miss Bruce slipped silently from the room and down into the +hall again.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian, oblivious of her daughter's claims, was discussing Dr. +Prince's verdict in lowered tones with Captain Trevellyan.</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce felt a sort of melancholy triumph in beholding this +justification for Char's obvious sense of injury.</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian is in her room, and waiting for you most anxiously," she +said reproachfully. "She thought you were still with Sir Piers. She +won't go to bed until she knows whether she may see him."</p> + +<p>"Poor child, it wouldn't do her any good to see him," said Joanna. +"There's no sign of returning consciousness yet, though Dr. Prince +thinks he may come to himself almost any time, and then everything +depends upon his being kept absolutely quiet. But I'll go up to Char."</p> + +<p>She went upstairs, but came down again much sooner than Miss Bruce +approved.</p> + +<p>"I've told her to go to bed," she placidly informed the secretary. "She +can't do anything, and she looks very tired."</p> + +<p>"She is far from well, I'm afraid," stiffly remarked Miss Bruce.</p> + +<p>"Well, I leave her to you, Miss Bruce. I know you'll take the most +devoted care of her. Let her sleep as long as she can in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Cousin Joanna, is there anything I can do?" asked Trevellyan wistfully.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so, Johnnie. You'll come round tomorrow?"</p> + +<p>She was smiling at him quite naturally.</p> + +<p>"The first thing. You're sure there's nothing I can do tonight—sit up +with him, or anything?"</p> + +<p>"My maid and I are going to do it between us. We shall have a nurse down +from London by midday tomorrow, I hope."</p> + +<p>"Let me sit up instead of you."</p> + +<p>She smiled again.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. I'm only going to take the first half of the night—much +the easiest. Then I shall probably go to sleep, unless there's any +change, when, of course, they'll fetch me. But Dr. Prince doesn't think +there will be yet, and I shall take all the rest I can. I'm much more +likely to be wanted at night later on."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce went upstairs again, much more nearly disposed to wonder at +such reasonableness than to admire it.</p> + +<p>Her ideals were early Victorian ones, and although she knew that she +could not hope for hysterics from Lady Vivian, she would have much +preferred at least to hear her declare that sleep would be utterly +impossible to her, and that she should spend the night hovering between +her unconscious husband and her prostrate daughter.</p> + +<p>But Lady Vivian went to bed at half-past twelve, and did not even insist +upon merely lying down in her dressing-gown, nor did she reappear in Sir +Piers's room until eight o'clock on the following morning.</p> + +<p>There had been no change during the night.</p> + +<p>Char slept heavily until ten o'clock, then woke and rang her bell rather +indignantly.</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce, who had been hovering about anxiously since seven that +morning, appeared instantly at the door.</p> + +<p>"There is no change whatever, my dear. Now, do, do lie down again and +keep warm. There is nothing that you can do."</p> + +<p>Char complied rather sullenly. She was still feeling ill, and violently +resented her own involuntary physical relief at this enforced inaction.</p> + +<p>"What on earth will happen at the office?" she muttered. "Have you told +them that I'm not coming?"</p> + +<p>"I telephoned myself," said Miss Bruce proudly.</p> + +<p>"What did you say?"</p> + +<p>"That you were in bed yourself with influenza, and quite unfit to move; +and also that we are in great anxiety about Sir Piers."</p> + +<p>"That's the only reason I can't go in to Questerham as usual," said Char +coldly. "It was quite unnecessary to mention my having influenza, +Brucey. That would never constitute a reason for my staying away from my +work."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce looked very much crestfallen.</p> + +<p>"You'd better telephone again, please, a little later on, with a message +from me. Say that I must be rung up without fail when my secretary has +gone through the letters, and I'll come to the telephone and speak to +her myself."</p> + +<p>"The draughty hall!" moaned Miss Bruce, but she dared not offer any +further remonstrance.</p> + +<p>Char's conversation on the telephone with Miss Jones was a lengthy one, +and Miss Bruce, wandering in the background in search of imaginary +currents of air, listened to her concluding observations with almost +ludicrous dismay. "The departments must carry on as usual, of course, +but don't hesitate to ring me up in any emergency. And no letters had +better leave the office tonight—in fact, they can't, since there'll be +nobody to sign them. What's that?... No, certainly not. How on earth +could I depute such a responsibility to any one in the office. I shall +have made some arrangement by tomorrow. Sir Piers may remain in this +state indefinitely, and I can't have the whole of the work held up in +this way.... That's all. Remember, nothing is to leave the office for +the present. You can ring me up and report on the day's work at seven +o'clock this evening. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>As Char replaced the receiver, her mother entered the hall. They had +already exchanged a few words earlier in the morning, and Lady Vivian +only remarked dispassionately: "I thought you were in bed. By the way, +Char, I'm sorry, but we shall have to have the telephone disconnected. +The house <i>must</i> be kept quiet, and that bell can be heard quite plainly +from upstairs. We can ring other people up, but they won't be able to +get at us. Did you want to talk to your office?"</p> + +<p>"I <i>must</i>," said Char. "Things are absolutely hung up there; no one who +can even sign a letter."</p> + +<p>"Why not? Have they all got writer's cramp all of a sudden?"</p> + +<p>Char, never very graciously disposed towards her parent's many small +fleers at her official dignity, thought this one particularly ill-timed, +and received it by a silence which said as much.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian looked at her, and said rather penitently: "Well, well, I +mustn't keep you here when you ought to be in bed. My dear child, do you +mean to say you're wearing nothing but your dressing-gown under that +coat? Do go upstairs again."</p> + +<p>"I want to speak to you, mother."</p> + +<p>"I'll come up in five minutes. I'm going to give an order to the +stables."</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian walked briskly down the drive, her uncovered head thrown +back to catch the chilly gleams of winter sunlight.</p> + +<p>There were dark lines under her blue eyes, but the voice in which she +gave her orders was full and serene as usual, even when she answered the +chauffeur's respectful inquiries by the news that Sir Piers still +remained unconscious.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later Lady Vivian's secretary had the gratification of +seeing her enter Char's bedroom and establish herself on a chair at the +sufferer's bedside.</p> + +<p>That afternoon Miss Bruce received a further satisfaction when Lady +Vivian sought her in consultation.</p> + +<p>"It's about Char, Miss Bruce. She's fretting herself into fiddlestrings +about that office of hers. She thinks all the work is more or less held +up while she's not there to see to it. And yet she may be kept here +indefinitely. It's quite possible that Sir Piers may ask for her when he +comes to himself again, so there can be no question of her going in to +Questerham at present, even if she were fit for it, which she most +decidedly isn't."</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i> consideration by itself would never keep her from her work," +said Miss Bruce loyally.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian waived the point.</p> + +<p>"Well, as she won't do the only sensible thing, and transfer her +authority to some responsible member of the staff, she'd better have one +of them out here every day to go through the work with her and take back +the instructions. The car is bound to be going in at least once a day."</p> + +<p>"It won't be the rest for Charmian that one had hoped," said the +secretary dismally.</p> + +<p>"But it will be better for her to do a little work than just to sit and +worry about her father and the office—though, upon my word," said Lady +Vivian warmly, "I think she's a great deal more anxious about the Depôt +than about his illness."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce, not inconceivably, thought so too, but she was very much +shocked at hearing such an idea put into words, and said firmly: "Then, +would you like me to write to Questerham and tell Miss Vivian's +secretary that it has been arranged for her to come out here daily for +the present?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me, you're as bad as Char, Miss Bruce. Anybody would think they +were all machines, to be dragged about without any will of their own. +No, no! Ring up the office and get hold of the secretary, and give her a +polite message, asking if she can manage it, if we send her in and out +in the car."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce obeyed, and triumphantly told her employer that evening that +all was arranged, and Miss Jones would come to Plessing on the following +morning to receive Miss Vivian's directions.</p> + +<p>"Miss Jones? You don't mean to say that the genteel Delmege has +abdicated in favour of Miss Jones? What a piece of luck for us!" cried +Lady Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Miss Delmege is in bed with influenza."</p> + +<p>"Excellent!" said Joanna callously. "I shall be delighted to see Miss +Jones. I wanted to ask her here, but Char nearly had a fit at the idea. +She'll certainly think I've done it out of <i>malice prepense</i>, as it is. +She's got a most pigheaded prejudice against that nice Miss Jones."</p> + +<p>"Lady Vivian!"</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian laughed.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to break it to her, Miss Bruce, that it's Miss Jones who is +coming. And don't let her think I did it on purpose!"</p> + +<p>"I am sure she would never think anything of the sort."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not. But Char does get very odd ideas into her head, when she +thinks there's any risk of <i>lèse-majesté</i> to her Directorship. I must +say," observed Joanna thoughtfully, preparing to go upstairs for her +night watch, "I often wish that when Char was younger I'd smacked some +of the nonsense out—"</p> + +<p>But before this well-worn aspiration of Miss Vivian's parent, Miss Bruce +took her indignant departure.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h3> + + +<p>"Rather strange, isn't it?" said Miss Delmege in tones of weak +despondency. "If it hadn't been for this wretched flu, <i>I</i> should have +been going out to Plessing every day with the work, I suppose, as Gracie +is doing now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose you would," agreed Miss Henderson blankly.</p> + +<p>She sat on the foot of the bed, which was surrounded by a perfect +wilderness of screens.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege reclined against two pillows, screwed against her back at +an uncomfortable-looking angle. The room was not warmed, and the invalid +wore a small flannel dressing-jacket, rather soiled and very much +crumpled, a loosely knitted woolly jersey of dingy appearance and an +ugly mustard colour, and over everything else an old quilted pink +dressing-gown, with a cotton-wool-like substance bursting from the cuffs +and elbows. Her hair was pinned up carelessly, and her expression was a +much dejected one.</p> + +<p>Miss Henderson was knitting in a spasmodic way, and stopping every now +and then to blow her nose violently. She had several times during the +afternoon ejaculated vehemently that a cold wasn't flu, she was thankful +to say.</p> + +<p>"It's probably the beginning of it, though," Miss Delmege replied +pessimistically.</p> + +<p>"You're hipped, Delmege, that's what you are—regularly hipped. Now, +don't you think it would do you good to come downstairs for tea? There's +a fire in the sitting-room."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't mind if I do. It'll seem quite peculiar to be downstairs +again. Fancy, I've been up here five whole days! And I'm really not a +person to give way, as a rule. At least, not so far as I know, I'm not."</p> + +<p>"It's nearly four now. Look here, I'll put a kettle on, and you can have +some hot water."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, dear," said Miss Delmege graciously, "but don't bother. My +hot-water bottle is still quite warm. I can use that."</p> + +<p>"All right, then, I'll leave you. Ta-ta! You'll find me in the +sitting-room. Sure you don't want any help?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. I shall be quite all right. I only hope you won't be in bed +yourself tomorrow, dear."</p> + +<p>"No fear!" defiantly said Miss Henderson, at the same time sneezing +loudly.</p> + +<p>She went away before Miss Delmege had time to utter any further +prognostications.</p> + +<p>In the sitting-room she busied herself in pushing a creaking wicker +arm-chair close to the fire—which for once was a roaring one, owing to +the now convalescent Mrs. Potter, who had been crouching over it with a +novel all day—lit the gas, and turned it up until it flared upwards +with a steady, hissing noise; said "Excuse me; do you mind?" to Mrs. +Potter; shut down the small crack of open window, and drew the curtains.</p> + +<p>"Delmege is coming down, and we'd better have the room warm," she +explained. "She's just out of bed."</p> + +<p>By the time Miss Delmege, now wearing her mustard-coloured jersey over a +thick stuff dress, had tottered downstairs, the room was indeed warm.</p> + +<p>"Now, this," said Mrs. Bullivant cheerfully, when she came in to see how +many of her charges wanted tea—"now this is what I call really cosy."</p> + +<p>She looked ill, and very tired, herself. The general servant had given +notice because of the number of trays that she had been required to +carry upstairs of late, and had left the day before, and the cook was +disobliging and would do nothing beyond her own immediate duties. Mrs. +Bullivant was very much afraid of her, and did most of the work herself.</p> + +<p>She had written to the Depôt in accordance with the official Hostel +regulations, stating that a servant was required there for general +housework; but no answer had come authorizing her to engage one, and +Miss Marsh had explained to her that in Miss Vivian's absence such +trifling questions must naturally expect to be overlooked or set aside +for the time being. So little Mrs. Bullivant staggered up from the +basement bearing a tray that seemed very large and heavy, and put it on +the table in the sitting-room, very close to the fire, with a triumphant +gasp.</p> + +<p>"There! and it's a beautiful fire for toast. None of the munition girls +are coming in for tea, are they?"</p> + +<p>"Hope not," said Miss Henderson briefly. "I <i>ought</i> to be at the office +now. I said I'd be back at five, but I shouldn't have had the afternoon +off at all if Miss Vivian had been there."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege drew herself up. "Miss Vivian never refuses a reasonable +amount of leave, that I'm aware of," she said stiffly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I mean we're slacker without her. There's less to do, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Well, Grace Jones will be back presently, and I suppose she'll have +work for all of us, as usual. I wonder how Miss Vivian is," said Mrs. +Potter.</p> + +<p>"And her father."</p> + +<p>"Grace will be able to tell us," said Miss Delmege, not without a tinge +of acrimony in her voice. "It does seem so quaint, her going to and from +Plessing in Miss Vivian's car, like this, every day. It somehow makes me +howl with laughter."</p> + +<p>She gave a faint, embittered snigger, and Miss Henderson and Mrs. Potter +exchanged glances.</p> + +<p>"I hear the car now," said Mrs. Bullivant. "She'll be cold. I'll get +another cup, and give her some tea before she goes over to the office. I +do hope she's got Miss Vivian's authority for me to find a new servant."</p> + +<p>They heard her outside in the hall, making inquiry, and Grace's voice +answering in tones of congratulation.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's quite all right. I asked Miss Vivian most particularly, and +told her what a lot of work there was, and she said, Get some one as +soon as you could. I came here before going to the office so as to tell +you at once."</p> + +<p>"Well, that <i>was</i> nice of you, dear, and now you shall have a nice cup +of hot tea before you go out again. Just a minute."</p> + +<p>"I'll fetch it, Mrs. Bullivant. Don't you bother."</p> + +<p>"It's all right, dear, only a cup and saucer wanted; the rest is all +ready."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes Grace came into the sitting-room carefully carrying the +cup and saucer.</p> + +<p>When she saw Miss Delmege she said in a pleased way: "Oh, I'm so glad +you're better. Miss Vivian asked after you. She was up herself this +afternoon, and looking much better."</p> + +<p>"And how's her father?"</p> + +<p>"They are much happier about him since he recovered consciousness. He +can talk almost quite well, and Dr. Prince is quite satisfied about him. +And they've got a nurse at last. You know, they couldn't get one for +love or money; none of the London places had any to spare."</p> + +<p>"I should have thought they could get one from one of the Questerham +hospitals."</p> + +<p>"I think Lady Vivian meant to, if everything else failed, but Miss +Vivian didn't think it a very good plan; she was afraid the hospitals +couldn't spare any one, I suppose, and, anyhow, most of the people there +are only V.A.D.'s."</p> + +<p>"And is there any hope of seeing her back at the office?" asked Mrs. +Potter, rather faintly.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," replied Grace thoughtfully. "You see, poor Sir Piers may +remain at this stage indefinitely, or may have another stroke any time. +They don't really know...."</p> + +<p>"And Miss Vivian goes on with the work just the same!" ejaculated Miss +Henderson. "She really is a marvel."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure she'd come to the office if it wasn't for poor Lady Vivian," +said Miss Delmege. "But I know her mother depends on her altogether. I +don't suppose she could leave her, not as things are now."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege's assumption of an intimate and superior knowledge of the +<i>ménage</i> at Plessing was received in silence. Miss Henderson, indeed, +glancing sharply at Grace, saw the merest quiver of surprise pass across +her face at the assertion; but reflected charitably that, after all, +Delmege had had a pretty sharp go of flu, and probably wasn't feeling up +to the mark yet. Her mis-statements, however irritating, had better be +left unchallenged.</p> + +<p>"Do you ever see anything of Lady Vivian when you're at Plessing?" Miss +Delmege inquired benevolently of Grace, but the benevolence faded from +her expression when Miss Jones replied, with more enthusiasm than usual +in her voice, that she always had lunch with Lady Vivian, and sometimes +went round the garden with her before going up to Miss Vivian's room for +the afternoon's work.</p> + +<p>"Dear me! I shouldn't have thought she'd have much time for going round +the garden. But she's not thoroughgoing, like Miss Vivian is, of course. +It's quite a different sort of nature, I fancy. Strange, too, being +mother and daughter."</p> + +<p>Miss Henderson decided rapidly within herself that, influenza or no, +Delmege was making herself unbearable.</p> + +<p>"You're getting tired with sitting up, aren't you, dear?" she inquired +crisply.</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence, and then Miss Delmege said in pinched +accents: "Who is it you're referring to, dear? Me, by any chance?"</p> + +<p>Grace knew the state of tension to which those aloof and refined tones +were the prelude, and exclaimed hurriedly that she must go.</p> + +<p>She did not want to hear Miss Henderson and Miss Delmege having "words," +or to listen while Miss Delmege talked with genteel familiarity of Sir +Piers and Lady Vivian.</p> + +<p>Pulling on her thick uniform coat, she went out, and slowly crossed the +street.</p> + +<p>She was thinking of Lady Vivian, who had roused in her an enthusiasm +which she could never feel for Char, and who had talked to her so +frankly and warmly, as though to a contemporary, that afternoon in the +garden at Plessing. For all her quality of matter-of-factness, there was +a certain humble-mindedness about Miss Jones, which made it a matter of +surprise to her when she found herself on the borders of friendship with +the woman whom she thought so courageous and so lovable.</p> + +<p>She hoped that Miss Vivian would require her to go out to Plessing every +day for a long while; then reflected that the privilege rightly belonged +to Miss Delmege, who would certainly avail herself of it at the earliest +possible moment.</p> + +<p>She knew, and calmly accepted, that Miss Delmege's services would +certainly be preferred to her own by the Director of the Midland Supply +Depôt; but she did not think that Lady Vivian proffered her liking or +her confidence lightly, and felt a certain placid security that their +unofficial intercourse would somehow or other continue. Then, with +characteristic thoroughness, she dismissed the question from her mind +and went into the office and to her work.</p> + +<p>That evening Grace went to the Canteen. Only Miss Marsh, Miss Anthony, +and Miss Henderson accompanied her.</p> + +<p>"We shall have to work like blacks to make up for the absentees," +groaned Tony.</p> + +<p>"Never mind; it isn't quite so cold tonight. Isn't the moon nice?"</p> + +<p>"Lovely. Just the night for Zeppelins."</p> + +<p>Miss Henderson spoke from the pessimism of approaching influenza, but it +happened that she was right. The first air raid over Questerham took +place that night.</p> + +<p>The work was rapidly lessening towards eleven o'clock, when Captain +Trevellyan came into the hall. He stood for an instant gazing round him +reflectively, then said to Grace: "Who is in command here?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Willoughby, when Miss Vivian isn't here."</p> + +<p>"I see, thank you."</p> + +<p>Looking very doubtful, he sought Lesbia, who was preparing to discard +her overall and to take her departure with the Pekinese.</p> + +<p>"Johnnie! How <i>too</i> sweet of you to turn up just in time to see me home! +My Lewis hates my going back alone in the dark; we've very nearly +quarrelled over it already."</p> + +<p>"The fact is," said Trevellyan, wondering if Mrs. Willoughby were the +sort of person to have hysterics, "that there's been a telephone warning +to say an air-raid is on, just over Staningham. They're heading this +way, so we may hear a gun or two, you know; some of our machines are in +pursuit."</p> + +<p>He gazed anxiously at Lesbia, whom he characteristically supposed to be +about either to burst into tears or to threaten a fainting fit.</p> + +<p>The ideas of Captain Trevellyan were perhaps not much more advanced than +those of Lady Vivian's secretary.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Willoughby discounted his solicitude, at least on one score, in +a moment.</p> + +<p>"Zepps!" she screamed excitedly. "How too thrilling! Can I possibly get +on to the roof, I wonder? I've never seen one yet."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" said the astonished Trevellyan. "You don't realize. They'll be +over here in a few minutes, and our machines may be firing at them, +besides the guns on the hill; there'll be shrapnel falling."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby tore off her overall and snatched up Puff.</p> + +<p>"I must, must see it all!" she declared wildly. "Have you got a pair of +field-glasses?"</p> + +<p>Trevellyan restrained her forcibly from dashing to the door.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Willoughby, we've got to consider that there are a number of +people here, and that they are all in a certain amount of danger—not so +much from bombs, though goodness knows they may very well drop one, but +from our own shrapnel. Is there a basement?"</p> + +<p>"You can't send us to the cellar? My dear boy, I, for one, refuse to go. +We're not children, and we're not afraid. We're Englishwomen!"</p> + +<p>On this superb sentiment Mrs. Willoughby swept into the middle of the +hall and announced in penetrating accents that a Zepp raid was on, and +had any one got a pair of field-glasses?</p> + +<p>There was a momentary outbreak of exclamations all around, and then +Captain Trevellyan raised his voice: "Please keep away from the windows. +There may be broken glass about."</p> + +<p>"Is it dangerous? What are we to do?" gasped Tony, next him. She was +rather white.</p> + +<p>At the same moment the very distant but unmistakable reverberation of +guns became audible.</p> + +<p>Trevellyan took instant advantage of the sudden cessation of sound in +the room.</p> + +<p>"If there is a basement, it would be as well for everybody to go down +there, please—just for precaution's sake. And then I'm going to put out +these lights." His hand was on the nearest gas-jet as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Nothing will induce me to <i>stir</i> while there's any danger. I can answer +for every woman here!" cried Lesbia, with a gesture of noble defiance.</p> + +<p>Grace Jones came into the middle of the room.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't we better obey orders?" she asked gently. "There is a basement +beyond the kitchen."</p> + +<p>She held out her hand to Miss Anthony, and they went through the door +into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>After an instant's hesitation, the other women followed. Trevellyan saw +that they had lit a candle, and in a moment he heard them beginning to +talk quietly amongst themselves.</p> + +<p>A few soldiers in the hall had congregated together, and were talking +and laughing. The others made a dash for the door as the firing grew +louder, and simultaneously exclaimed: "Here they are!"</p> + +<p>The sound of the huge machines far overhead was unmistakable. They could +see the shrapnel bursting, and the guns on the hill boomed heavily and +intermittently.</p> + +<p>"Look!" shrieked Lesbia, almost hurling herself out of the door. +"They've got one of them! I can see it blazing!"</p> + +<p>Far away, a red spot began to glow, then suddenly revealed the +cigar-shaped form in flames, dropping downwards.</p> + +<p>"They've got it!" echoed Trevellyan. "Look! it's coming down. Miles +away, by this time. I wonder how many of ours are giving chase."</p> + +<p>The air was full of whirring, buzzing wings, and very far away a red +light in the sky seemed to tell of fire.</p> + +<p>Occasional sparks and flashes told of the bursting of shrapnel, but the +sounds were dying away rapidly.</p> + +<p>"It's over, and, by Jove, we've got him!" shouted Trevellyan, dashing +back into the kitchen. Every one was talking at once, Mrs. Willoughby's +voice dominating the rest.</p> + +<p>"I saw the whole thing <i>too</i> perfectly! At <i>least</i> five of the brutes, +and two, if not three, of them in flames! I saw them with my own eyes!" +she proclaimed, with more spirit than exactitude. "And where are those +poor creatures hiding like rats in the cellar?"</p> + +<p>"The noise was awful!" said Tony, shuddering. "It felt as though it were +right over our heads. But," she added valiantly, "I do wish we'd seen it +all!"</p> + +<p>Trevellyan turned to her apologetically. "I'm so sorry. But I really +couldn't help it. They sent me down on purpose to see that this place +was warned. It was really perfectly splendid of you to go down like that +and miss all the fun."</p> + +<p>"I was very frightened," she told him honestly, "though I do <i>awfully</i> +wish I'd seen it. They must have had a splendid view from the Hostel at +the top of the street."</p> + +<p>"There was a splendid view from <i>here</i>," said Lesbia cuttingly. "<i>I</i> saw +everything there was to be seen."</p> + +<p>Trevellyan was looking for Miss Jones.</p> + +<p>"Thank you so much for giving them the lead you did," he said to her +gratefully. "It was very good of you. I felt such a brute for asking you +to do it; but there really is danger, you know, especially from the +windows, if shrapnel shatters the glass."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I know. I wonder," said Grace thoughtfully, "whether they heard +it much at Plessing."</p> + +<p>"I know. I was thinking of that all the time. Not that she'd be nervous, +you know, except on his account."</p> + +<p>"It would be dreadful for Sir Piers. Oh, I do hope they didn't hear much +of it," said Grace.</p> + +<p>One of the men approached her. "If you please, Sister, could you come +down into the kitching 'alf a minute?"</p> + +<p>Grace went.</p> + +<p>Trevellyan watched them all disperse, and escorted Mrs. Willoughby to +her tram, wondering if he ought not to see her home.</p> + +<p>But Lesbia refused all escort, declaring gallantly that <i>she</i> did not +know the meaning of fear, and, anyway, Puffles would protect his missus +from any more dreadful, wicked Zepps.</p> + +<p>He left her entertaining her tram conductress with a spirited account of +all that she had seen, and much that she had not seen, of the raid.</p> + +<p>As he turned down Pollard Street again, a soldier with his hand bound up +lurched out of the open door of the deserted Canteen.</p> + +<p>"Is there any one in there to shut the place up?" Trevellyan asked him.</p> + +<p>"One of the ladies is still in there, sir. Beg pardon, sir; she's a bit +upset like."</p> + +<p>Trevellyan thought of little Miss Anthony, who had owned, with a white +face, how much the sound of the guns had frightened her.</p> + +<p>He went into the hall. It was dark, but there was a light in the +kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" said John.</p> + +<p>"I am. It's all right," replied an enfeebled voice; and he went into the +kitchen.</p> + +<p>Grace Jones was half leaning and half sitting against the sink, her +small face haggard, her hands clutching the only support within reach, +the wooden top of a roller-towel.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you're ill," exclaimed Trevellyan, looking desperately round +him for a chair.</p> + +<p>"It's all right; please don't wait."</p> + +<p>"But it's over now. They brought the brute down. It's miles away by this +time."</p> + +<p>He multiplied his reassurances.</p> + +<p>"No, no; it's not that," gasped Miss Jones, looking whiter than ever.</p> + +<p>"There were certainly no casualties over here. We should have seen signs +of fire somewhere if they'd dropped a bomb."</p> + +<p>"It's <i>not</i> that!" Grace told him desperately.</p> + +<p>Trevellyan gazed at her helplessly, and repeated in an obtuse manner: +"It's all over now—absolutely safe."</p> + +<p>Grace gazed back at him with a wan smile.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind going?" she asked him feebly. "I shall be all right in a +minute. It's very tiresome, but the sight of—of blood always upsets me +like this, and that man had cut his finger rather badly, and I had to do +it up. It's only—that."</p> + +<p>She put her hands up to her damp forehead as though the effort of speech +had brought back the sensation of nausea.</p> + +<p>"You're going to faint!" exclaimed Trevellyan. "Let me get some water +for you."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not. <i>Oh, do go</i>!"</p> + +<p>"I can't leave you like this," protested the bewildered John.</p> + +<p>Grace staggered to her feet, and stood holding on to the edge of the +sink.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid—I'm only going to be sick," she said with difficulty.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later they locked up the Canteen and went up Pollard Street.</p> + +<p>"You see, it had nothing to do with the raid," Grace told him gently. +"It was just that poor man bleeding. I've always been like that; it's +the only way I'm delicate, because I'm never ill, and I don't ever have +nerves. But it is very tiresome. That's why I couldn't go and work in a +hospital. I did clerical work in the hospital at home for a little +while, but it wasn't any good."</p> + +<p>"Bad luck!"</p> + +<p>"It is, rather. I hate anybody's knowing about it; that's why I said I'd +stay behind and lock up. I knew it was going to happen, and I didn't +want any one to be there."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry. I thought it was the raid that had upset you, and that you +might be going to faint."</p> + +<p>"Nothing so romantic," said Miss Jones regretfully.</p> + +<p>But her regrets were as nothing to those of the Hostel when they learnt +what had happened.</p> + +<p>It was impossible to conceal it from them, since the window of the +ground-floor bedroom had been open, and Mrs. Potter and Miss Marsh, +leaning from it, and listening eagerly, had heard every word of Captain +Trevellyan's final discourse to Miss Jones, and her repeated assurances +of being now completely restored.</p> + +<p>They flew into the hall to meet her.</p> + +<p>"Gracie dear, what <i>has</i> happened to you? Tony was in such a state when +she found you hadn't come in with her and the others."</p> + +<p>"Was it that beastly raid upset you?"</p> + +<p>Grace once more repudiated the raid with as much energy as she could +muster.</p> + +<p>"You look as white as a sheet, dear! Come into the sitting-room."</p> + +<p>Every one was in the sitting-room, including those first back from the +Canteen, and the pseudo-invalids who, having been in bed when the raid +began, felt that only tea could enable them to face the night, and had +hurried down in search of it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gracie, there you are! I was just going back to see what had become +of you," said Tony.</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian's cousin brought her home!" giggled Mrs. Potter. "You know, +the Staff Officer one. She's been awfully upset, poor Grace! Turned +quite faint, didn't you, dear?"</p> + +<p>"But you were so brave!" cried Tony, aghast. "You were all right all the +time the raid was on. You didn't mind a bit!"</p> + +<p>"Came over you afterwards, I expect, didn't it?" said Miss Delmege +kindly. "It's often the case. I'm always perfectly cool myself when +anything happens—I was tonight—but I generally suffer for it +afterwards. Reaction, I suppose. When I came downstairs after it was all +over I was simply shaking, wasn't I, Mrs. Bullivant?"</p> + +<p>"Now, it's a funny thing," remarked Miss Henderson, without giving any +one time to dwell upon Miss Delmege's personal reminiscences—"it's a +funny thing, but I simply didn't feel the least bit of fear. Not for +myself, you know. I just thought, well, I hope mother doesn't see any of +this—she's got a bit of a heart, you know—but I didn't seem to feel a +bit as though I was in any kind of danger myself. Not a bit."</p> + +<p>"Now, just sit down, child, and drink up this tea," said Mrs. Bullivant +to Grace. "You've not a scrap of colour in your face."</p> + +<p>"I'm really all right now, thank you very much," Grace told her as she +took the tea gratefully. "And it wasn't anything to do with the raid."</p> + +<p>Everybody looked rather disappointed.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you well, then, dear? I do hope it isn't another case of +influenza."</p> + +<p>"I bet I know!" suddenly cried Tony. "It was doing up that man's hand +upset you, wasn't it? He cut himself somehow in the excitement and was +bleeding like a fountain, poor fellow! I thought you looked rather +squeamish while you were doing it, poor thing! but I never thought of +its bowling you over like this. Are you one of those people who faint at +the sight of blood?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't faint," said Grace mildly.</p> + +<p>"Jolly near it, I expect, judging by your face now," said Tony +critically. "Poor old dear!"</p> + +<p>"Did Miss Vivian's cousin come back to find you?" asked Miss Delmege +sharply.</p> + +<p>"He came into the kitchen while I was still there, and afterwards he +helped me to lock up."</p> + +<p>"Afterwards?"</p> + +<p>A tinge of colour crept into Miss Jones's face.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you won't think I rose to the occasion <i>at all</i>," she said +deprecatingly. "It always does make me rather ill to see blood, though I +know it's idiotic, and it was the soldier's hand, not the air-raid a +bit, I didn't mind that at all."</p> + +<p>"What happened? Were you hysterical?" demanded Miss Delmege, with an +inexplicable touch of umbrage in her refined little voice.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said Grace emphatically. "If you really want to know, I +was just sick over the sink."</p> + +<p>Miss Jones's damaging revelation horrified the Hostel, no less than the +crude manner of its avowal.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Miss Henderson, "you really are the limit, Gracie—and a +bit over."</p> + +<p>"Poor child!" said Mrs. Bullivant kindly. "How dreadful for you! Miss +Vivian's cousin and all, too! But, still, it was better than an absolute +stranger, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how you're ever going to face him again, though—really I +don't," giggled Tony.</p> + +<p>"Poor man! so awful for him, too," minced Miss Delmege. "He must have +been too uncomfortable for words."</p> + +<p>"Not he," Miss Marsh told her with sudden defiance. "He brought poor +Gracie home, and delighted to have the chance. Come on, Gracie, let's go +to bed. You look done for."</p> + +<p>She had grown very fond of her room-mate, in spite of all that she +regretfully looked upon as an absence of propriety in her conduct; and +when they were outside the sitting-room door, she said, without +troubling to lower her voice: "Don't you mind their nonsense, dear. You +couldn't help it, and <i>that</i> Delmege has only got the pip because she +hadn't the chance of being brought home by Miss Vivian's cousin +herself."</p> + +<p>And when they got upstairs she "turned down" Gracie's bed for her, and +put her kettle on to the gas-ring, and brought her an extra hot-water +bottle.</p> + +<p>"There! Good-night, dear, and don't you worry. I think it was splendid +of you to tell the truth. Lots of girls would have fibbed, and said +they'd fainted, or something highfaluting of that nature. I should +myself."</p> + +<p>"Thank you so much. You <i>are</i> nice to me," said Grace warmly. She did +not look upon the affair herself as being more than a merely unfortunate +incident, but she knew that Miss Marsh regarded it as an overwhelming +scandal, and was proffering consolation accordingly.</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh bent over the bed and tucked her in. "I'll turn out the gas, +and you must go straight to sleep. It's frightfully late. And look here, +Gracie, when we're alone together up here, I'd like you to call me Dora, +if you will. It's my name, you know."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h3> + + +<p>"That settles it," said Char. "If this sort of thing is going to happen, +I <i>must</i> be there. With no definite organization, there might be a panic +next time an air-raid takes place. According to Mrs. Willoughby, every +one made a dash for the basement, as it was. Women are such fools when +one leaves them to themselves!"</p> + +<p>It was part of Char's policy always to disparage her own sex. It threw +into greater relief the contrast which she knew to exist between herself +and the majority of women-workers.</p> + +<p>She was speaking to Miss Bruce, but, rather to her annoyance, Lady +Vivian came into the room in time to overhear her.</p> + +<p>"Surely the basement was the most sensible place to dash for?" she +inquired, never able to resist an opportunity of attacking her +offspring's arrogantly expressed opinions. "As for your being there, in +my opinion, it's a very good thing you weren't. You'd only have drilled +the poor things out of their senses, which would have taken up more +valuable space in the basement."</p> + +<p>"I should not have been in the basement," returned Char superbly.</p> + +<p>"Then you might have been blown into bits, my dear, unless, as Director +of the Midland Supply Depôt, all enemy aircraft has orders to respect +your person?"</p> + +<p>Joanna was jeering quite good-humouredly, as she generally did, and even +Miss Bruce saw some exaggeration in the white, tense silence with which +Char received these indifferent pleasantries.</p> + +<p>"I hear the car," said the secretary, anxious to create a diversion.</p> + +<p>"Miss Jones. Mother, I'm going through the work with her in here this +morning. There's no fire in the morning-room."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Char. You won't disturb me in the least."</p> + +<p>"I thought you were going to sit with father."</p> + +<p>"Not yet. Besides, I want to see Miss Jones."</p> + +<p>Char sighed patiently. At Plessing only the faithful Miss Bruce gave her +work that consideration to which she had become accustomed at the +office. She was finding Plessing almost intolerable. There were no +interviews, the telephone-bell was not allowed to ring, no one urged her +not to neglect the substantial meals which were served for her with the +greatest regularity, and Miss Jones daily assured her, with perfect +placidity, that the whole work at the office was progressing with +complete success without her.</p> + +<p>The Director of the Midland Supply Depôt was completely shorn of her +glory.</p> + +<p>And what was she doing, Char indignantly asked herself, while the +organization which she had practically made was thus abandoned to its +own resources?</p> + +<p>Nothing.</p> + +<p>She paid a purely perfunctory visit, morning and evening, to Sir Piers, +who hardly ever heard what she said to him, and had the rest of the day +at her own disposal. She had no share in the work of nursing, which was +divided between Lady Vivian and the professional nurse who had come from +London, and when she rather indignantly demanded of Dr. Prince whether +he did not think that he had better utilize her hospital experience at +Plessing, the doctor merely replied dryly: "Hospital experience, as you +call it, acquired on paper only, won't help you much here, or anybody +else either. Nurse Williams can do all that's necessary, and Sir Piers +doesn't want any one but Lady Vivian when he's awake."</p> + +<p>"That's perfectly true," said Char sharply, "and that's why I can't help +thinking it's rather waste of time for an able-bodied woman with a +certain amount of brains to remain here unoccupied when there is so much +to be done elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"You can take your mother for a walk every day. She is wise enough to +take an hour's exercise every afternoon, and Miss Bruce can't be much of +a companion. Besides," maliciously added the doctor, who had suffered +considerably under the Central Depôt's arbitrary interference with his +Hospital work, "it'll do you a lot of good to keep quiet for six months +or so. You've been suffering from overstrain, whether you know it or +not, and your work will be all the better for some relaxation. I assure +you, we haven't had a wrong enclosure sent us from the office since you +left."</p> + +<p>Dr. Prince walked off very triumphantly after this parting gibe.</p> + +<p>"Serve her right!" he thought to himself. "Conceited monkey! Perhaps I +shall get station transport for my cases properly put through now, +without her interference. Hospital experience, indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Char to Miss Bruce, "a country doctor is naturally +jealous of the R.A.M.C. men who've come to the fore. He's never forgiven +me for getting his Hospital run on a proper military basis."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure he really admires your splendid work, dear, as anybody must, +but he's known you ever since you were tiny, so I suppose he allows +himself a certain amount of freedom."</p> + +<p>Char supposed so too, sombrely enough, and prepared herself to extract +from Miss Jones an account of panic at the Canteen on the occasion of +the air-raid which should justify her in returning to her post, even in +the eyes of Dr. Prince.</p> + +<p>Needless to say, Miss Jones was unsatisfactory.</p> + +<p>"Oh no; there wasn't any sort of panic at all. Captain Trevellyan was +there, and asked us to go to the basement, and we just went."</p> + +<p>"John tells me that they were perfectly splendid, all of them, and that +you set the first example," said Joanna cordially.</p> + +<p>"The whole thing didn't last ten minutes," Grace told them. "We heard +all the noise, but didn't see anything. The men did, of course. They saw +the Zeppelin come down in the far distance. But by the time we came out +there was nothing. It was all over."</p> + +<p>"What a shame!" exclaimed Joanna.</p> + +<p>"I must institute a proper drill for air-raid alarms," said Char, +unsmiling. "That sort of haphazard <i>sauve qui peut</i> is most unofficial. +I shall see about it directly I get back."</p> + +<p>Joanna put up her lorgnon and looked at her daughter.</p> + +<p>She did not speak, but something in her expression made Char exclaim +very decisively: "I can't desert my post at a time like this. Everybody +must see that unless I had any extremely definite call elsewhere, my +place is at the Depôt. The work is suffering horribly from this +piecemeal fashion of doing things."</p> + +<p>She indicated Grace and her sheaf of bulging envelopes with a gesture of +condemnation.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian glanced from her daughter's set face to Grace Jones, whose +eyes were cast down. Then she left the room without speaking.</p> + +<p>Char looked at her secretary, and said, very slowly and stiffly: "I +shall probably be back at the office tomorrow or Monday, Miss Jones. You +may tell the staff. Sir Piers's condition is not likely to alter at +present, and, in any case, the work comes before any personal +considerations at a time like this."</p> + +<p>There was silence.</p> + +<p>"Miss Jones!" said Char sharply.</p> + +<p>Miss Jones lifted her great grey eyes and looked straight at the +Director of the Midland Supply Depôt.</p> + +<p>She was not at all an eloquent person, but perceptions much less acute +than those of Char Vivian could have felt the intense, almost violent +hostility with which the atmosphere vibrated.</p> + +<p>Then Grace dropped her eyes and said gently and coldly, in a tone as +remote as it was impersonal: "Yes, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>The encounter had been a wordless one, and, indeed, Char knew that she +would never have allowed it to become anything else. The relative +positions of the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt and one of her +staff were far too clearly defined in her mind for that. But it left in +her a sort of cold, still anger, as well as an invincible determination.</p> + +<p>That night Trevellyan dined at Plessing.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian did not come downstairs until dinner was over and they were +in the drawing-room. Then she took out some needlework. Sir Piers had +always liked to see her pretty hands working at what he generically +called "embroidery."</p> + +<p>She sat down under the big standard lamp.</p> + +<p>Disquiet was in the air, and Char knew that only the unperceptive +Trevellyan was unaware of an impending crisis. Miss Bruce fidgeted with +the fire-irons, dropped them, and apologized. As though a spell had been +broken, Joanna looked up and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Char, I don't know if you realize that there can be no question of your +returning to the office tomorrow—or at all, for the present."</p> + +<p>The attack had opened.</p> + +<p>Char was glad of it, although a flare of resentment passed through her +mind that her mother should have sought a cowardly protection from a +possible scene in the presence of John Trevellyan.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" she added quietly. "My father is no worse?"</p> + +<p>"He is exactly the same. But I am not going to risk any shock or +vexation to him. He asked me this afternoon if you were at home, and was +glad when I said yes. You know he never liked your doing this excessive +amount of work."</p> + +<p>"He never forbade it."</p> + +<p>"He is not likely to forbid it. When has he ever forbidden you anything? +But he thinks that your place now is at home—which it very obviously +is."</p> + +<p>"To do what?" asked Char, with rising bitterness, which she did not try +to keep out of her voice. "Does he ever ask for me? Am I of the +slightest use?"</p> + +<p>"He sees you every day, and he might ask for you at any time. He wishes +you to remain at home for the present."</p> + +<p>"It's not fair, it's not reasonable. I do <i>nothing</i> here. I am of no +use. It's not as though he really wanted me. It's simply because +you—and he—won't be reminded of the war—of the ghastly horrors going +on all round us—won't think of the war, or let it be mentioned. You +want to shirk it all—"</p> + +<p>"Don't, Char!" said John suddenly. "Don't say things you'll be sorry for +afterwards."</p> + +<p>"No. I shall not be sorry for speaking the truth. <i>You</i> know it's true, +Johnnie."</p> + +<p>"True!" said Joanna. "What if it is true? Do you suppose that if I can +give him one little hour's comfort by ignoring the war, and keeping +every thought of it away from him, I wouldn't do so at any cost? The war +isn't your responsibility or mine—your father is."</p> + +<p>She rose, and paced rapidly up and down the length of the room. Char had +never seen her mother give way to such impetuous agitation before. She +eyed her coldly, but strove to speak gently.</p> + +<p>"Mother, if it was anything else I'd give in. But I <i>am</i> doing work in +Questerham—real, absolutely necessary work—and here—why, I'm not even +justifying my existence."</p> + +<p>"You're working here. You do a lot every day, going through all those +letters and things with Miss Jones," Trevellyan pointed out.</p> + +<p>Joanna threw him a quick glance of gratitude.</p> + +<p>"Work here, Char, as much as you like," she exclaimed eagerly. "You can +have any one you please out here—so long as they don't make a noise," +she added hastily.</p> + +<p>The expression was infelicitous.</p> + +<p>"You talk as though I were a child, and wanted to have other children +out here to play with me. Good heavens, mother! I do you realize that my +work is <i>for the nation</i>, neither more nor less?"</p> + +<p>"If I don't, it's not for want of being told," said her mother with +sudden dryness.</p> + +<p>"It's easy to say that sort of thing, to accuse me of self-complacency +in the tiny little part I contribute to an enormous whole."</p> + +<p>"It's not that, Char!" cried Joanna hastily. "I don't care if you have +megalomania in its acutest form"—Miss Bruce bounded irrepressibly on +her chair—"but I will <i>not</i> have your father distressed. That's my one +and only concern. Johnnie, help me to make her understand."</p> + +<p>"I do understand, mother," said Char. "You would sacrifice everything to +the personal question—women always do. But I can't see it like that. +The broader issue lies there, under my very eyes, and I can't shirk it."</p> + +<p>"Johnnie!" said Joanna despairingly. "Tell her that she's blinding +herself."</p> + +<p>"Can't you give it up, Char?" he asked her gently. "You can do work +here, you know, and let some one else carry on at Questerham."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, a deputy. Some one who'll be under your orders," breathed +Miss Bruce eagerly.</p> + +<p>She cordially wished her contribution to the discussion unuttered, +however, when it evoked from Johnnie the inspired suggestion: "Miss +Jones! Make her your deputy, Char, and the whole thing will go like a +house on fire."</p> + +<p>Joanna, still pacing the room, gave a quick, short laugh, which made +Trevellyan look at her in wondering surprise, and Char in sudden anger.</p> + +<p>"May I suggest—" Miss Bruce began timidly, and paused.</p> + +<p>"Anything!" said Joanna brusquely.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't Dr. Prince tell us whether there is any reason—anything to +fear—any danger," faltered Miss Bruce, becoming terribly involved.</p> + +<p>Trevellyan came to her rescue.</p> + +<p>"You mean whether there is likely to be any immediate change, for worse +or for better, in Sir Piers's condition?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I couldn't go if my father was in immediate danger," quoth +Char impatiently. "But he's not. We've already been told so. He may go +on in this state for months and months. And at the end of a telephone! +Why, I could be sent for and be back here within an hour."</p> + +<p>"I'm not discussing the question from that point of view at all," Joanna +told her. "The point is not that you should be at hand in case of any +crisis, but simply that he should not be vexed. Your insensate hours of +work at the Depôt vex him."</p> + +<p>The words sounded oddly trivial, but no one doubted that Joanna was +angry, angrier than they had, any of them, ever seen her.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Cousin Joanna, can't we settle this later on? There can be +no need to arrange it tonight," said John. "Suppose we let the Doctor +give the casting vote, as Miss Bruce suggested?"</p> + +<p>He felt pretty sure that no vote of Dr. Prince's would ever be exercised +in favour of Char's immediate return to the Midland Supply Depôt.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Prince is coming here tonight," said Lady Vivian. "He ought to be +here any minute now, if it's after nine."</p> + +<p>"Ten past," said Miss Bruce, glancing at the clock.</p> + +<p>"Neither he nor any one else can convince me that I ought to remain in +idleness when every worker in England is needed," said Char.</p> + +<p>"My dear Char, you can't run any risks with Sir Piers in his present +condition," said John unexpectedly. "That's what we want Dr. Prince to +tell us—whether there is any danger to him if you persist in going +against his wishes."</p> + +<p>Something of condemnation, such as Char had never yet heard in her +easy-going cousin's voice, silenced her. She felt bitterly that every +one was against her, no one understood.</p> + +<p>Then Miss Bruce's hand came out timidly and patted her on the shoulder. +Dear old Brucey! Char recognized her fidelity in a sudden spasm of most +unwonted gratitude. Brucey at least knew that a real struggle was in +progress between Char's sense of patriotism and the pain that it +naturally gave her to resist the wishes of the parents whose point of +view she could not share.</p> + +<p>For the first time since she was a child, Char felt moved to one of her +rare demonstrations of affection towards the faithful Miss Bruce. She +smiled at her, pain and gratitude mingling in her gaze, and let her hand +lie for a moment on the little secretary's.</p> + +<p>Trevellyan leant against the chimney-piece, his hands in his pockets, +and looked at Joanna with inarticulate, uncomprehending loyalty and +admiration in his gaze.</p> + +<p>She was pacing up and down the long room with a sort of restrained +impatience, the folds of her black dress sweeping round her tall figure +as she moved. In the silence, broken only by the rustling of Joanna's +gown, the approach of Dr. Prince's small, old-fashioned motor-car was +plainly audible.</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce gave one timid look at Lady Vivian, then got up and went to +the door.</p> + +<p>They heard her speak to the servant in the hall, and then she came back +again and took up her place close to Char.</p> + +<p>"Did you ask him to come in here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Lady Vivian. At least, I told them to show him in here."</p> + +<p>Joanna resumed her restless pacing.</p> + +<p>Then the drawing-room door opened and closed again upon the doctor, +entering with the stooping gait of a hard-worked, tired man at the end +of the day.</p> + +<p>"Good-evening, Dr. Prince," said Joanna abruptly. "Will you give us the +benefit of your advice?"</p> + +<p>"On whose account?" demanded the doctor, glancing sharply from one to +another of the group.</p> + +<p>"It's just this," said Char's cool, incisive tones. "My mother wishes to +persuade me that my father is not in a fit state for me to take up my +work at Questerham again. That I ought to remain here, doing practically +nothing, while there's work crying out to be done."</p> + +<p>"Sir Piers is in no immediate danger," said the doctor slowly. "In fact, +there is every reason to hope that he is getting better. Otherwise, I +suppose, you would hardly contemplate leaving home."</p> + +<p>"But she's not suggesting leaving home!" cried Miss Bruce. "It's only a +case of going backwards and forwards every day."</p> + +<p>The doctor shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Lady Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Sir Piers doesn't wish it," said Joanna curtly. "Surely that's reason +enough. It distressed him very much, even before he was ill, that she +should go and do this office work."</p> + +<p>"I see. Yes. The ideas of the present day are not very easily +assimilated by our generation," said the doctor gently.</p> + +<p>He had often thought himself that Miss Vivian of Plessing had better +have worked with her needle or amongst the poor, as had done the great +ladies of his own generation, instead of in a Questerham office. But he +had also been rather ashamed of his thoughts, and would not for the +world have had them guessed by his pushing, good-natured wife, who was +proud to let her two daughters help at the Depôt.</p> + +<p>"We live in abnormal times," Char said. "I'm not doing the work for my +own pleasure, but because the need for workers is desperate. I <i>can</i> do +the job I've undertaken, and so far as I can see, there is no adequate +reason, unless my father gets very much worse, for me to desert it."</p> + +<p>"It's not," said Miss Bruce judicially, "as though any one could take +her place at the Depôt."</p> + +<p>"For the matter of that," Trevellyan remarked, with unexpected logic, +"it's not as though any one could take her place here."</p> + +<p>"But that's just it!" cried Char. "I don't do anything at all here. Dr. +Prince, you know perfectly well that I don't; we spoke of it the other +day. Can you conscientiously tell me that my absence during the day is +going to make the slightest difference to my father's case?"</p> + +<p>"No. Speaking professionally, I can't," said the doctor.</p> + +<p>Joanna stopped in her walking and looked at him, but it was evident that +the doctor had not finished. He cleared his throat and faced Char.</p> + +<p>"<i>But</i> if you're trying, which you obviously are, to bamboozle me into +justifying you in taking your own way, Miss Charmian, then I'll tell you +something else. It's not the work you want to get back to, young lady; +it's the excitement, and the official position, and the right it gives +you to interfere with people who knew how to run a hospital and +everything connected with it some twenty years or so before you came +into the world. That's what <i>you</i> want. I can't tell you, as a matter of +medical opinion, that it will bring on a second stroke, if you vex and +disappoint your good father by monkeying about in a becoming uniform and +a bit of gold braid on an office stool while he desires you to stay at +home; but I can and I do tell you that you're playing as heartless a +trick as any I ever saw, making patriotism the excuse for bullying a lot +of women who work themselves to death for you because you're of a better +class, and have more personality than themselves, and pretending to +yourself that it's the work you're after, when it's just because you +want to get somewhere where you'll be in the limelight all the time."</p> + +<p>There was perfect silence, while the doctor took out a large +handkerchief and wiped his forehead.</p> + +<p>At last Joanna said dryly: "Well, I don't know that I should have said +it myself, but upon my word, Char, I believe you've got the case in a +nutshell."</p> + +<p>"No!" cried Miss Bruce. "It's unjust!"</p> + +<p>Char looked at her, white and smiling.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's unjust enough," she said slowly. "But, as my mother has just +implied, it is her own opinion, apparently, as well as Dr. Prince's."</p> + +<p>"No! no!" cried Joanna quickly, moving towards her daughter. "Not +altogether, Char. Only I can't have your father vexed—indeed, I can't."</p> + +<p>"You are making it very hard for me. But my choice is made. I cannot, +and will not, let a personal consideration come before the work."</p> + +<p>"You mean to go back?"</p> + +<p>"On Monday—the day after tomorrow."</p> + +<p>For a moment Char looked at them, superbly alone. Then she moved towards +the door. Miss Bruce, looking half frightened and half admiring, crept +after her, and Joanna made a sudden movement that caused Trevellyan to +put out his hand towards her.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not going to touch her. But if you go, Char, you'll stay in +Questerham. I won't have you coming back and disturbing the house and +waking him at all hours. I won't have you here at all, unless he asks +for you."</p> + +<p>Char made a gesture of acquiescence, and went without a word from the +room.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Joanna, her blue eyes dark and her voice shaking, but +unconquerably colloquial in the midst of her pain and anger. "Oh, why in +Heaven's name didn't I whip Char when she was younger?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h3> + + +<p>"Enter Edith Elizabeth Plumtree, restored to health and happiness. Loud +cheers from the spectators."</p> + +<p>"Hurrah! How nice to see you back, dear! You look a different girl."</p> + +<p>"I feel it," declared Miss Plumtree, exchanging vigorous handshakes with +everybody.</p> + +<p>"What with her being in plain clothes, and having gone up about a stone +in weight," said Tony, "I simply didn't know her at the station. Gracie +and I tore down on our bicycles to meet her, and thought of +commandeering two orderlies and a stretcher to bring her up from the +station. Instead of which she's so much stronger than we are that she +pushed both bikes up the hill without turning a hair, while Gracie and I +panted in the rear!"</p> + +<p>"Doesn't she look well?" cried Grace. "I've never seen her look so +well—and isn't it becoming?"</p> + +<p>Everybody laughed. Personal remarks of any but a markedly facetious +order were known by the Hostel to be indelicate; but it was generally +conceded that Gracie Jones was so nice it didn't matter what she said, +since she probably couldn't help being unlike other people.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege eyed Miss Plumtree's fair round face and plump figure with +approval.</p> + +<p>"I like that costume," she observed critically. "New, isn't it, dear?"</p> + +<p>"No, dyed. It's my last year's grey."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say it's turned that sweet saxe? Well, you <i>have</i> +done well with it! I must commence seeing about my own winter costume, I +suppose. I'd been thinking of mole or nigger."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege possessed an almost technical vocabulary of descriptive +adjectives which she applied prodigally and exclusively to matters of +wardrobe.</p> + +<p>She proceeded to elaborate her favourite theme, although unable to +command a better audience than Grace, since every one else immediately +became more absorbed than ever in Miss Plumtree.</p> + +<p>"Of course, blue's my colour, you know, being fair. Not sky, I don't +mean, but royal or navy. But, then, one sees so many of those shades +about, and I do like something distinctive."</p> + +<p>"You should get some patterns."</p> + +<p>"I have done already. You must help me to choose, Gracie. There's a +shade of elephant that I rather liked; it would look nice with my cream +blouse, I thought."</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>very</i>," Grace agreed cordially, and perhaps not without a hope +that this would now close the discussion.</p> + +<p>"Then there's the style." Miss Delmege pursued her reflective way. "I +thought of a pleat down the centre, being tall, you see; I always think +one must be tall to carry things off. Unless, of course," she added +hastily, "one has a really perfect figure, like Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree turned round.</p> + +<p>"How <i>is</i> Miss Vivian? Didn't some one tell me she was back at the +office? I suppose her father's better."</p> + +<p>"Very much the same," Miss Delmege told her sadly. "Of course, it's +perfectly wonderful of her to—"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Miss Marsh maliciously, "if you want news about Plessing, +Greengage, you must ask Gracie. She's been out there every day in the +car, so as to go through the letters with Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"I say! Really?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, rather. She had lunch with Miss Vivian's mother nearly every day."</p> + +<p>"I rather envied her the motor ride," said Miss Delmege languidly, with +the implication that no other consideration could have moved her to +jealousy for a moment. "But, as a matter of fact, I couldn't manage to +go myself—laid up with this wretched flu, you know. I simply wasn't fit +to stir. Of course, Miss Vivian knew that; she was awfully sweet about +it. But, then, I always say, the attractive thing about her <i>is</i> that +she's so desperately human, when once you get to know her."</p> + +<p>"And is she back at the office?" inquired Miss Plumtree, turning a deaf +ear to these descriptive touches.</p> + +<p>"Comes back tomorrow morning, Monday. Some one from Plessing rang up +yesterday afternoon when I was on telephone duty and said so."</p> + +<p>"That would be Lady Vivian's secretary, Miss Bruce."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Miss Delmege reflectively. "She's been with them for years, +and is perfectly devoted to Miss Vivian. She's too sweet about her—Miss +Vivian, I mean. I've heard her telephoning sometimes; she calls her +Brucey."</p> + +<p>"Frightfully human!" was Tony's enthusiastic comment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>A moment's thoughtful silence was consecrated to the consideration of +Miss Vivian's humanity, and then Miss Plumtree was escorted upstairs to +take off her hat.</p> + +<p>"Really, that girl looks a different creature!" Mrs. Potter exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't she? She ought to be most awfully grateful to Miss Vivian. You +know Miss Vivian arranged the whole thing? With all she's got to think +of, too! But that's Miss Vivian all over. Never lets slip a chance of +doing a kindness. I've seen her go out of her way...."</p> + +<p>But Miss Delmege's anecdote was not fated to meet with attention.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bullivant walked into the sitting-room looking awestruck.</p> + +<p>"Girls, who do you think is coming to sleep here tomorrow night?"</p> + +<p>"There isn't <i>room</i> for any one else, is there?" mildly inquired Mrs. +Potter, who slept in a bedroom which contained four beds.</p> + +<p>"We shall have to manage somehow. I've just had a note—Miss Vivian is +coming here."</p> + +<p>"She isn't!"</p> + +<p>There was a chorus of astonishment; then Miss Delmege's attenuated +little tones contrived, as usual, to make themselves audible: "Well, I'm +not altogether surprised, do you know? I'd rather suspected something of +the kind. Plessing has to be kept quiet on account of Sir Piers; and +she's been ill herself, and isn't fit to come backwards and forwards in +this cold. I thought something of the kind would be arranged, and I had +a very shrewd suspicion as to what it would be."</p> + +<p>It need not be added that nobody made the faintest pretence of believing +in this prescience.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm blessed!" said Miss Henderson emphatically. "Where is she +going to sleep? There isn't a single room in the house, is there?"</p> + +<p>"She must have my room," said Mrs. Bullivant simply. "I think I can make +it nice and bright for her before tomorrow night. It'll just need fresh +curtains and a bit of carpet or two, and I thought you'd let me have the +looking-glass out of your room, Miss Jones dear. Mine is such a cracked +old thing."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course. But where are you going to sleep yourself, Mrs. +Bullivant?"</p> + +<p>"That's another thing, dear. Your room is absolutely the only one where +there's an inch of space for a spare bed. Would you and Miss Marsh mind +very much...?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Miss Marsh emphatically, "of course not. But wouldn't it be +more comfortable for you to have a bed in your own sitting-room? There'd +just be room behind the door, I think."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, dear; but, then, I must have somewhere for Miss Vivian's +meals. I can't send her down to the basement for supper very well, can +I?"</p> + +<p>"Hardly!" exclaimed Miss Delmege, with a slight, superior laugh at so +outrageous a suggestion.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I hope she'll be fairly comfortable. It's only for a few +nights, till she's made other arrangements."</p> + +<p>"I can tell you one thing," Miss Delmege remarked authoritatively. "The +one thing Miss Vivian hates is a <i>fuss</i>. I happen to know that. She'll +simply want everything to go on as usual, and to be let alone."</p> + +<p>"That's all very well, but it's easier said than done!" even the gentle +Mrs. Bullivant was constrained to exclaim. "It'll mean an upset for the +whole house, with extra meals and everything. I mean, dear, one really +can't help seeing that it will. I don't know what cook and Mrs. Smith +will say, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"Considering that it's Miss Vivian who pays them their wages, they won't +say much, unless they want to be dismissed," Miss Delmege retorted.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bullivant went away looking very much harassed.</p> + +<p>"Do let's help her to turn out of her rooms!" exclaimed Grace. "It'll be +much easier for her to do it tonight, with us to help her, than +tomorrow, when she's sure to be busy all day."</p> + +<p>"Good egg! Come on, girls!" cried Tony.</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh and Miss Plumtree responded to the summons. They helped Mrs. +Bullivant to take her crumpled blouses and limp black skirts from behind +the torn curtain where they were huddled against the wall; and Grace +mended the curtain while Tony and Miss Plumtree put away the clothes in +a big cardboard dress-box, where Mrs. Bullivant said they would do very +well for the time being.</p> + +<p>"What about that stain on the wall where the damp came through so +badly?" Miss Marsh asked doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Pin up a copy of an Army Council Instruction as a delicate attention. +Then she can learn it by heart while she gets up in the morning," was +Tony's facetious suggestion.</p> + +<p>"Put up a map of the Midlands, with a red-ink line round every +affiliated depôt."</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly, girls! You're so foolish I can't help laughing at you," +declared Mrs. Bullivant. "No; but I think we might put up a picture or +something. Now, I wonder what we've got."</p> + +<p>"There are Kitchener and Lord Roberts in the sitting-room," suggested +Miss Marsh. "I'll fetch them up."</p> + +<p>She ran down, and came back triumphantly with the large framed +photogravures. It was found that Lord Roberts would successfully mask +the stain on the wall, and Miss Plumtree and Mrs. Bullivant made +themselves very dusty by clambering on to chairs and affixing a nail, +hammered in with the heel of Miss Plumtree's shoe, from which the +picture was finally suspended.</p> + +<p>"It looks quite nice and bright, doesn't it?" Mrs. Bullivant asked them. +"Not like Plessing, perhaps—but, then, Miss Vivian won't expect that. +Now, is there anything else up here?"</p> + +<p>"We might put in a kettle," Grace said. "I'm sure she won't have one of +her own." So Grace's own kettle, which was a pretty little brass one, +was left upon the washing-stand, and Miss Marsh said that Gracie and she +would share hers. They went downstairs congratulating one another upon +their forethought, and upon the renovated appearance of the tiny +bedroom.</p> + +<p>Just before supper Miss Delmege, coming upstairs with a graceful, +bending gait indicative of still recent convalescence, encountered +Grace.</p> + +<p>"You've made the rooms look quite sweet, dear, and Miss Vivian is sure +to appreciate it. She's one of those people who always notices little +things."</p> + +<p>Grace was tired, and had run up and down stairs a number of times, for +the most part with her hands and arms full.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to help Mrs. Bullivant, that was all," she said curtly.</p> + +<p>"There's no call to get annoyed, dear!" exclaimed Miss Delmege, amazed.</p> + +<p>Grace looked up penitently.</p> + +<p>"I know there isn't. I don't know why I sounded so cross. I think +perhaps I'm a little tired of the sound of Miss Vivian's name, that's +all."</p> + +<p>"Well! Of all the peculiar things to say! Upon my word, dear," said Miss +Delmege scathingly, "if I didn't know you so intimately, I should +sometimes consider your manner downright strange!"</p> + +<p>This conviction remained with Miss Delmege. She went into the +sitting-room to await the supper-bell, which Mrs. Bullivant generally +rang some quarter of an hour after the appointed time, and remarked in a +detached voice: "Poor Grace Jones seems rather upset tonight. What I +should almost call sort of on edge. I suppose she doesn't like the idea +of having to go back to the ordinary office routine tomorrow, after +going in and out from Plessing in the way she has done."</p> + +<p>"I didn't notice anything wrong with her, I must say!" exclaimed Miss +Marsh, who was both fond of Grace and anxious to miss no opportunity for +contradicting Miss Delmege.</p> + +<p>"No, dear? Well, perhaps you wouldn't. There's none so blind as those +that won't see, and we all know that love is blind," was the gentle +response of Miss Delmege, as she sank into the chair nearest the fire.</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh could think of no better retort than "I'm sure I don't know +what you mean by that, Delmege, and I shouldn't think you did yourself, +either."</p> + +<p>"There's the bell," said Tony.</p> + +<p>They trooped down to the basement, and every one said how nice it was to +see old Plumtree back in her place again, and Mrs. Bullivant +triumphantly announced that there would be sausages, because Miss +Plumtree liked them, to celebrate her return.</p> + +<p>"Not two for me, really, please," Miss Delmege protested elegantly, and +manipulated the extreme ends of her knife and fork with the merest tips +of her exclusively curved fingers, as a protest against the great +enthusiasm displayed by several of her neighbours.</p> + +<p>On the same principle, when the sausages were followed by a loaf of +bread and a pot of marmalade, Miss Delmege cut up her bread into small, +accurately shaped dice, and said, "Pass the preserve if you will, +please, dear," between two very small sips at her cup of cocoa. She sat +at the foot of the table, and the chairs on either side of her generally +remained vacant. Grace came down late, and apologized. One might be, and +almost inevitably was, late on week-days, owing to the exigencies of the +office, but Sunday supper was something of a ritual.</p> + +<p>"So nice and homelike, all sitting down together with no one in a +hurry," Mrs. Bullivant always said. But she smiled a welcome at Grace.</p> + +<p>"I've kept your supper nice and hot, dear," she said, uncovering a plate +next to her own. "Come and sit down here, won't you? You look tired +tonight."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege shot a triumphant glance at Miss Marsh, who pretended not +to see it, and did not fail to observe that tired or not, Grace made her +usual excellent supper.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if any one has any cigs?" Tony suggested wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Grace promptly. "Luckily, I have a whole box."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you angel! How lovely! I do hate Sundays without a cigarette. +Somehow, on other evenings there never seems to be time to smoke, or +else one's too tired and goes straight to bed."</p> + +<p>In the sitting-room Grace produced her box of cigarettes.</p> + +<p>It was almost a matter of course at the Hostel that such things should +be treated as belonging more to the community than to the individual.</p> + +<p>"Thanks awfully, Gracie."</p> + +<p>"Really? Are you sure? Well, then, thanks so much, if I may—just one."</p> + +<p>"Delmege? Oh, you don't smoke, though, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you. I dare say I seem old-fashioned, but it's the way mother +brought us all up from children, and I must say I always feel that +smoking is—well, rather unwomanly, you know."</p> + +<p>In the face of this commentary Miss Marsh struck a match, and passed it +round the room.</p> + +<p>The atmosphere became clouded.</p> + +<p>"You know," Grace said rather mischievously to Miss Delmege, "that Miss +Vivian smokes?"</p> + +<p>"She doesn't!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed she does. Didn't you know that? Why, I've often noticed the +smell of tobacco when she hangs up her coat in the office. It's +unmistakable."</p> + +<p>"That might mean anything!" hastily exclaimed Miss Delmege. "Tobacco +does <i>cling</i> so. Very likely it hangs all round the house at Plessing, +you know, with a man in the house and people always coming and going, +probably."</p> + +<p>"You forget that Gracie knows all about Plessing," cried Miss Marsh +instantly. "Of course, <i>she's</i> seen Miss Vivian at home."</p> + +<p>"And does she really smoke?" asked Tony.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she does. Quite a lot, I think."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, that's different, isn't it?" Miss Delmege's serenity remained +quite unimpaired. "One can understand her requiring it. I believe it +really is supposed to be soothing, isn't it? Of course, working as she +does, her nerves probably require it. What I mean to say is, she +probably requires it for her nerves."</p> + +<p>"I dare say. I wonder where she'll smoke here?"</p> + +<p>"In Mrs. Bullivant's sitting-room, I suppose. Not that she'll be here +much, I don't suppose. Only just for her meals, you know, and then to go +straight to bed when she gets in."</p> + +<p>"I do hope that her sleeping in Questerham isn't going to serve her as +an excuse for working later than ever!" exclaimed Miss Delmege, in the +tones of proprietary concern with which she always spoke of Miss +Vivian's strenuous habits.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see what you mean," Mrs. Potter agreed. "With her car waiting, +she simply had to come away sooner or later."</p> + +<p>"Exactly; and she's always so considerate for her chauffeur, and every +one. I really do think that I've never seen any one—and I'm not saying +it because it <i>is</i> Miss Vivian, but speaking quite impersonally—any one +who went out of her way, as she does, to think of other people."</p> + +<p>"Look at what she did for me—even ordered a cab each way for me!" cried +Miss Plumtree, very simply.</p> + +<p>"That," said Miss Delmege gently, "is just Miss Vivian all over."</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh bounced up from her chair, rudely severing the acquiescent +silence that followed on this well-worn <i>cliché</i>.</p> + +<p>"I'm going up to get my knitting. I simply must get those socks done for +Christmas. I suppose no one will be shocked at my knitting on Sunday?"</p> + +<p>"Gracious, no! Especially when it's for the Army. When's he coming on +leave, Marshie?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, goodness knows! The poor boy's in hospital out there. Can I fetch +anything for any one while I'm upstairs?"</p> + +<p>"My work-basket, if you wouldn't mind," said Grace.</p> + +<p>"I say," asked Mrs. Potter, as the door slammed behind Miss Marsh, "<i>is</i> +she engaged?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no. She has heaps of pals, you know," Miss Henderson explained. +"She's that sort of girl, I fancy. Haven't you noticed all the letters +she gets with the field postmark? It isn't always the same boy, either, +because there are quite three different handwritings. And her brothers +are both in the Navy, so it isn't <i>them</i>."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Miss Delmege, with the little air of originality so seldom +justified by her utterances, "they say there's safety in numbers."</p> + +<p>"Here's your basket, Gracie," said Miss Marsh, reappearing breathless. +"How extraordinarily tidy you are! I always know exactly where to find +your things—that is, if mine aren't all over them!"</p> + +<p>"What are you going to make, Gracie?"</p> + +<p>"Only put some ribbon in my things. The washing was back last night, +instead of tomorrow morning, which will be such a saving of time during +the week. I wish it always came on Saturday," said Grace, serenely +drawing out a small folded pile of linen from her capacious and orderly +basket.</p> + +<p>Every one looked rather awestruck.</p> + +<p>"Do you put in ribbon every week?"</p> + +<p>"Isn't it marvellous of her?" Miss Marsh inquired proudly, gazing at her +room-mate. "She has such nice things, too."</p> + +<p>Grace uncarded a length of ribbon, and began to thread it through the +lace of the garment known to the Hostel as a camisole.</p> + +<p>"I can't say I take the trouble myself. <i>My</i> things go to the wash as +they are, ribbon and all. The colour has to take its chances," said Miss +Plumtree.</p> + +<p>"Are we going to have any music tonight?" inquired Miss Delmege, with a +sudden effect of primness.</p> + +<p>The suggestion was received without enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Then," Miss Delmege said, with a glance at Grace, who had completed the +adornment of her camisole, and was proceeding to unfold yet further +garments, "I think I shall go to bed."</p> + +<p>"Do, dear," Mrs. Bullivant told her kindly. "I hope any one will go +early who's tired."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege smiled cryptically.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said gently, "underwear in the sitting-room, you know!"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear!" cried Grace in tones of dismay. "Is that really why she's +gone upstairs?"</p> + +<p>"No loss, either," Miss Marsh declared stoutly.</p> + +<p>"But it's only my petticoat bodice."</p> + +<p>"I suppose she didn't know what might be coming next."</p> + +<p>Grace, guiltily conscious of that which might quite well have been +coming next but for this timely reminder, hastily completed her work and +put it away again.</p> + +<p>She leant back in the wicker chair, unconsciously adjusting her weight +with due regard to its habit of creaking, and gazed into the red embers +of the dying fire.</p> + +<p>Her mind was quite abstracted, and she was unaware of the spasmodic +conversation carried on all round her.</p> + +<p>Her thoughts were at Plessing.</p> + +<p>How could Miss Vivian be coming to stay at the Hostel when her father +was so ill, and Lady Vivian alone at Plessing? Grace remembered the +expression on Joanna's face when her daughter had said that she could no +longer stay away from the office at Questerham.</p> + +<p>She supposed that a consent had been extorted from her by Char, unless, +indeed, Miss Vivian had not deemed even that formality to be necessary. +Grace wondered, with unusual despondency, when or if she should see Lady +Vivian again. She felt quite certain now that never again would any +pretext induce Char to let her return to Plessing, and was not without a +suspicion that she might be made to feel, in her secretarial work, that +the Plessing days had not been a success in the eyes of Miss Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Never mind; it was quite worth it," thought Grace, and it was +characteristic of her that the idea of seeking work elsewhere than with +the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt never occurred to her.</p> + +<p>"A penny for your thoughts, Gracie."</p> + +<p>"Oh, they're not worth it, Mrs. Potter. They weren't very far away."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps they were just where mine have been all the evening—with poor +Miss Vivian. She'll be feeling it tonight, poor dear, knowing she's got +to leave tomorrow, and Sir Piers so ill. I <i>do</i> think she's wonderful."</p> + +<p>"I must say, so do I," Miss Henderson said thoughtfully. "When she used +always to refuse me the afternoon off, or any sort of leave, and say +that she couldn't understand putting anything before the work, I used to +resent it sometimes, I must own. But, really, she's lived up to it +herself so splendidly that one can't ever say another word."</p> + +<p>"Isn't Sir Piers <i>any</i> better?" asked Miss Plumtree pityingly.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit, I think. But he's not exactly in immediate danger, either. +Only the house has to be kept quiet, so I suppose she can't come +backwards and forwards like she used, and it's a choice between her +leaving home or giving up the work altogether."</p> + +<p>"Well, I <i>do</i> think it's splendid of her!"</p> + +<p>"Because, of course," Tony said, "nobody could take her place here. And +I suppose she can't help knowing that. It will seem extraordinary having +her in the Hostel, won't it?"</p> + +<p>"It won't really be comfortable for her after Plessing, I'm afraid. I +wish I could think of some better arrangement...." murmured Mrs. +Bullivant to herself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Bullivant!" cried Grace Jones. "You couldn't do more than give +up your own bedroom and your own sitting-room to her!"</p> + +<p>Then, because the heretical words "And that's more than she deserves," +were trembling on her tongue, Grace went upstairs to bed.</p> + +<p>Her sense of loyalty to her chief did not allow her to throw any doubt +on the glory of her return to work under such circumstances.</p> + +<p>Moreover, the Hostel's point of view on the subject was as adamantine as +it was universal.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h3> + + +<p>The next morning Char came back to the office. She found her table +loaded with violets and a blazing fire on the hearth. Miss Delmege +greeted her with an air of admiring wonder, suffused by a tinge of +respectful pity, and ventured to hope that Sir Piers Vivian was better.</p> + +<p>No one else was sufficiently daring to approach so personal a topic, but +little Miss Anthony, blushing brightly, turned round at the door just as +she was leaving the room with her work, and said stammeringly that it +was so nice to see Miss Vivian back in the office again.</p> + +<p>Char smiled.</p> + +<p>She was still looking ill, and she knew that her departure from Plessing +had been a severe strain on her barely recovered strength. The effort of +giving her attention to the arrears of work which required it taxed all +her powers of determination.</p> + +<p>"Is this all the back work, Miss Delmege?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"There are several things here which ought to have been brought to me."</p> + +<p>"I suppose Miss Jones didn't know."</p> + +<p>"But she ought to have known. It was most annoying having to leave so +much to her. She hasn't the necessary experience for one thing, and is +far too fond of acting on her own initiative."</p> + +<p>It gave Char a curious satisfaction to say this in the cool and judicial +tones of complete impartiality.</p> + +<p>"I shall have a fearful amount to do with these back numbers. Bring me +the Hospital files, and the Belgian file, and W.O. letters—and—yes, +let me see—Colonial Officers. That will do for the moment; and send for +Miss Collins, please."</p> + +<p>The stenographer entered the room with her most <i>dégagé</i> swing, and +seated herself opposite to Char, her pad poised upon her crossed knees.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Miss Vivian," she said gaily. "Nice to see you back +again. I hope you've quite got over the influenza?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Char icily. "Please take down a letter to the O.C. +London General Hospital."</p> + +<p>She dictated rapidly, but Miss Collins's shorthand was never at a loss, +and at the end of forty minutes she still appeared tireless and quite +unruffled.</p> + +<p>"That will do, for the moment."</p> + +<p>Miss Collins uncrossed her knees, and looked up.</p> + +<p>"I shall be wanting ten days' leave, Miss Vivian," was her unprecedented +remark.</p> + +<p>The scratching of Miss Delmege's pen paused for a moment, and, although +she did not turn round, a tremor agitated her neat, erect back.</p> + +<p>Char looked at her unabashed typist.</p> + +<p>"There will be no Christmas leave," she said curtly, taking the +resolution on the instant.</p> + +<p>"I expect I shall want it before Christmas—about the end of this week. +The fact is—"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, but it's quite out of the question. Naturally, one rule +applies to the whole staff, and I shall not expect any one to be absent +from duty except on Christmas Day itself, which will be treated as a +Sunday. As for ten days, the suggestion is absurd, Miss Collins. I +consider that you've practically had ten days' holiday during my +absence—and more."</p> + +<p>"I've been here every day as usual, and cut any number of stencils, and +rolled them off," Miss Collins cried indignantly.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to hear it. Why do you want leave now?"</p> + +<p>Miss Collins giggled, tried to look coy, and at last said in triumphant +tones, which strove to sound matter-of-fact: "I'm going to be married."</p> + +<p>There was silence. Char was drawing a design absently on her +blotting-pad.</p> + +<p>"My friend is getting leave at the end of next week, and we've settled +to be married before he goes out again. He's an Australian boy."</p> + +<p>"Of course, that slightly alters the case," Char said at last, stiffly. +"Do you wish to go on working here just the same?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Miss Vivian. What I feel is, that with him out there, I simply +must be doing my bit at home. It'll take my mind off, too, like, and as +he says—"</p> + +<p>Char interrupted her ruthlessly.</p> + +<p>"In the circumstances, Miss Collins, you can take eight days' leave at +the end of this week. But I may tell you that you have chosen a most +inconvenient moment, with the Christmas rush coming on and a great deal +of back work to be done."</p> + +<p>Her manner was a dismissal.</p> + +<p>Miss Collins left the room.</p> + +<p>"Miss Delmege, do you think that we could find some one to replace Miss +Collins?"</p> + +<p>"For the time—or permanently?"</p> + +<p>"While she's away, I meant. It would be difficult to get any one +permanently in her place, I'm afraid. Besides, she's an extremely good +stenographer, and I can't afford to have one who'll make mistakes."</p> + +<p>Char paused, and her feminine curiosity conquered official aloofness. +"Did you know that she was engaged to be married?"</p> + +<p>"I've seen her wearing a ring, but, naturally, I never come across her +except officially," was the haughty response of her secretary.</p> + +<p>But however detached she might proclaim herself to be, Miss Delmege did +not keep the news of Miss Collins's wedding to herself. In less than +twenty-four hours it was known all over the office. It was perhaps +fortunate that the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt did not know the +number of departments in her office that interspersed the day's work +with discussions as to what Miss Collins would wear as a wedding-dress. +The interest of it almost eclipsed the sensation of Char's own +installation at the Hostel.</p> + +<p>She arrived there at nine o'clock that night. It would have been +possible for her to leave the office a good deal earlier, but she was +aware that the members of her staff would not expect any deviation from +her usual iron rule, and were probably telling one another at that +moment how wonderful it was to think that Miss Vivian should never have +her dinner before half-past nine at night.</p> + +<p>Char, tired and oddly apprehensive, was inclined to think it rather +wonderful herself. The door of the Hostel stood open to the street, as +usual, but since the air-raid over Questerham all lights had been +carefully shaded, and only the faintest glimmer of a rather dismal green +light appeared to welcome Char as she rang the bell.</p> + +<p>She thought that the hall looked narrow and dingy, and a large box took +up an inconvenient amount of space at the foot of the stairs. Then it +occurred to her, with an unpleasant sense of recognition, that the box +was her own.</p> + +<p>"Is that Miss Vivian?" came a voice through the gloom. "Won't you come +in?"</p> + +<p>Char came in, gingerly enough. Then a match was struck, and Mrs. +Bullivant anxiously held up a lighted candle to guide her footsteps.</p> + +<p>"Just down the step, Miss Vivian, and I've got supper all ready for you +in my sitting-room. I thought you'd like it best there. Our dining-room +is in the basement, you know."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; this will do very well."</p> + +<p>Char looked round the tiny room rather wonderingly. Preparations for a +meal stood on a table that was obviously a writing-table pushed against +the wall and covered with a white cloth.</p> + +<p>"It'll be ready in one minute, Miss Vivian," repeated the Hostel +Superintendent nervously. "I'll just go and tell the cook. I expect you +must be hungry, and would rather have supper first, and then go to your +room. And I'm very sorry, but we've had to leave your trunk downstairs. +The stairs are rather too narrow, and the maids thought they couldn't +manage it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bullivant went away, as though supposing that the last word had +been said upon the subject of the trunk.</p> + +<p>Char thought otherwise.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes Mrs. Bullivant came back with a tray, on which stood a +cup of cocoa, another one of soup, and a plate with two pieces of bread. +"I thought you'd like soup, as it's such a cold night," she said +triumphantly. "Now, you must tell me if you have any special likes and +dislikes, won't you? I do so hope you'll be fairly comfortable here, +Miss Vivian. I can't tell you how very much it's impressed all the +girls, your coming here like this, for the sake of the work. I'm afraid +it won't be as comfortable as Plessing."</p> + +<p>The same fear was also taking very definite possession of Char's mind.</p> + +<p>She pulled up a low cane-seated chair to the table and began the soup +and bread. The cocoa, already poured out, must, it was evident, be +allowed to get cool until the arrival of a next course. This proved to +be a dish of scrambled eggs, and was followed by one large baked apple.</p> + +<p>Char felt thankful that she had refused her maid's solicitations to come +with her. Preston confronted by such a meal, either for herself or for +Miss Vivian, was quite unthinkable.</p> + +<p>Char thought of Plessing and the dinner that had awaited her there every +evening, with Miss Bruce hovering anxiously round the other end of the +table, with something like homesickness.</p> + +<p>Then she derided herself, half laughing. What did food matter, after +all?</p> + +<p>But she decided that Miss Delmege must be told to find her rooms in +Questerham as soon as possible. Then Preston could join her.</p> + +<p>This last thought was prompted by Char's strong disinclination to +unpack, a duty which she realized now would, for the first time, devolve +upon herself.</p> + +<p>It would not be facilitated by the prominent position given to her trunk +in the hall of the Hostel.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bullivant," said Char, when the Superintendent returned, "my trunk +must be taken up to my room, please."</p> + +<p>Her tone was unmistakably, and quite intentionally, that of the Director +of the Midland Supply Depôt issuing instructions to a member of her +staff.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Vivian," automatically replied the little Superintendent, and +added desperately: "But I'm afraid that cook and Mrs. Smith won't do +it—not if they've once said they won't."</p> + +<p>Char raised her eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"If the servants don't obey your orders they must leave," she said. "But +isn't there any one else?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps two of the girls—" Mrs. Bullivant hesitated, and then left the +room.</p> + +<p>Char heard her open the door of the next room, which she knew must be +the sitting-room, and a babel of voices immediately became audible.</p> + +<p>She waited, rather annoyed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bullivant came out into the hall, followed by quite a large group.</p> + +<p>"This is it. Look, dears, can you manage it? Miss Henderson, dear, +you're tall."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. It's only up one flight, and it isn't a very large box—only +an awkward shape. Will some one give me a hand?"</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree, who was sturdy, came to assist, and between them, with a +great deal of straining and pulling, and many anxious ejaculations from +the door-way of the sitting-room, they slowly lifted the box.</p> + +<p>"Don't hurt yourself, now!" cried Mrs. Bullivant. "Get it from +underneath, Henderson!"</p> + +<p>"Mind the paint on the wall!"</p> + +<p>"Mind the banisters!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mind what you're doing, Greengage!"</p> + +<p>Similar helpful ejaculations resounded, as the two girls carried the box +up the first flight of narrow stairs.</p> + +<p>Just as they reached the top step, Char heard the small, clear voice of +her secretary, standing in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Can you manage, or shall I help you?"</p> + +<p>There was a general laugh, echoed from above, as Miss Henderson's voice +came briefly down to them: "Thanks, Delmege; just like you, dear, but we +happen to have finished."</p> + +<p>They all laughed again.</p> + +<p>Char, through the half-open door, saw Miss Delmege tossing her fair +head. "I'm afraid I don't quite see the point of the joke," she observed +acidly.</p> + +<p>"Now go in to the fire again, all of you," Mrs. Bullivant exclaimed. +"Miss Vivian will hear you if you chatter like this in the hall. I'll +tell her the box is safely upstairs."</p> + +<p>When she returned to impart the information, Char had shut the door of +her little room again.</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you like to come upstairs, Miss Vivian?" the Superintendent +asked her timidly. "They've managed to get your box up all right, and I +expect you'll be wanting to unpack."</p> + +<p>Char wanted nothing less, but she realized that the unwelcome task must +of necessity precede her night's rest, and went upstairs with Mrs. +Bullivant.</p> + +<p>The bedroom seemed to her very tiny, and, indeed, what space there was, +her box and dressing-bag mainly occupied. It was also exceedingly cold.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Bullivant had wished her good-night, with a certain wistful +air of expecting an enthusiasm which Char felt quite unable to display, +she slipped on her fur coat and began to tug at the strap of her trunk.</p> + +<p>The process of unpacking at least succeeded in warming her. But there +was hardly any room to put away even the limited number of belongings +that she had brought, and Char told herself rather indignantly that Mrs. +Bullivant seemed to be a most incompetent manager, and might at least +have provided her employer with a respectably sized bedroom in her own +Hostel.</p> + +<p>Towards ten o'clock she heard the sitting-room door opened, and a +general whispering and rustling proclaimed that several people were +coming upstairs. Char did not, however, at once realize the full +significance of the fact that her own room adjoined the bathroom. A thin +but incessant stream of conversation began, punctuated by the loud +hissing of a kettle which had overboiled upon the gas-ring.</p> + +<p>"How's the water tonight?"</p> + +<p>"Fair to middling. I don't know who is having baths, but there won't be +enough water for more than two."</p> + +<p>"It's only tepid as it is."</p> + +<p>"I am hungry," proclaimed a plaintive voice in incautiously raised +tones.</p> + +<p>"H'sh-sh! You'll disturb Miss Vivian. Why are you hungry at this hour, +Tony?"</p> + +<p>"Well, we didn't have anything frightfully substantial for supper, did +we? and I had to go after the scrambled eggs, because I was on telephone +duty. So I didn't even have any pudding."</p> + +<p>"Oh, poor kid! Couldn't Mrs. Bullivant have got you something?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't like to ask her; she's so worried tonight, what with Miss +Vivian's coming and everything. Besides"—Tony's voice sounded very +serious—"there never <i>is</i> anything, you know. Only tomorrow's +breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Hasn't any one got some biscuits?"</p> + +<p>"I'll go down to the kitchen and find some milk for you," said the +peculiarly distinct tones of Grace Jones. "I know where it's kept."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why should you bother?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't at all a bother. You must be starving."</p> + +<p>Char heard Miss Jones going downstairs again, and then a triumphant +voice proclaimed: "<i>I</i> know who has some biscuits! Plumtree. She brought +them back from her holiday. I'll go and ask her."</p> + +<p>"Come on!"</p> + +<p>Evidently Tony and Miss Marsh felt an equal certainty that Miss +Plumtree's biscuits could be looked upon as community goods.</p> + +<p>There was a silence, before a voice from the next story cried urgently +down the stairs: "I say, is my kettle boiling? I put it on the gas-ring +ages ago, as I went upstairs. Will some one have a look?"</p> + +<p>"It boiled over some time ago," Miss Delmege proclaimed very distinctly. +"I took it off for you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks very much. I'll come."</p> + +<p>There was a hasty descent, evidently in bedroom slippers, and then a +long whispered colloquy of which Miss Vivian heard only her own name. +Evidently Miss Delmege, at least, had not forgotten the proximity of her +chief. Char several times heard her "H'sh!" her companions in a sibilant +and penetrating whisper.</p> + +<p>"You can't want to wash brushes at this hour!"</p> + +<p>"My dear, I simply must. Just let me have the basin half a minute; I've +got the water all ready."</p> + +<p>"This your kettle?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, thank you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Potter, have you actually got some ammonia in that water? I +wish you'd let me do my brushes with yours."</p> + +<p>"Of course, Miss Marsh. There's plenty of room."</p> + +<p>"Well, good-night, girls," from Miss Delmege. "It may seem strange to +you, me going to bed before ten o'clock, but it's the life. One gets +tired, somehow."</p> + +<p>"Good-nights" resounded, and one door banged after another.</p> + +<p>There was splashing in the bathroom for a little while, and then +silence.</p> + +<p>Char realized with dismay that she had no hot water, and that the brass +kettle on her washing-stand was empty. After reflection, she filled it +from the jug, and decided that she must go to the bathroom where the +gas-ring was.</p> + +<p>She would not have been averse to being seen by her mother just then. +War-work under these conditions could not be mistaken for anything but +the grim reality that it was.</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian, however, not being present, Char performed her domestic +labours unobserved, and went shivering to her bed.</p> + +<p>She wondered if any one would call her in the morning. This, however, +proved not to be necessary.</p> + +<p>The walls were thin and the stairs only carpeted with oilcloth, and +before seven o'clock Char was startled out of sleep by a prolonged +whirring sound overhead, which she only identified as that of an +alarm-clock, when footsteps hastily crossed the floor above, and it +ceased abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Who on earth wants to get up at this hour, when they none of them start +work before half-past nine!" she reflected rather disgustedly.</p> + +<p>But she remembered that Mrs. Bullivant's duties as Superintendent might +include the supervision of Mrs. Smith's arrival every morning and the +preparation of breakfast, when a step stole past her door, and the +reflection of a lighted candle was flung for a moment on the wall.</p> + +<p>Conversations in the bathroom were much briefer in the morning than at +night. Evidently every one was too cold, or in too much of a hurry, to +talk, although there were sounds of coming and going from half-past +seven onwards.</p> + +<p>Char went to the bathroom herself at eight o'clock, selecting a moment +when it appeared to be empty. She went behind the curtains that screened +off the bath from the rest of the room, and found the water very cold.</p> + +<p>"Very bad management somewhere," she reflected austerely, and wondered +why it should be difficult to provide boiling water by eight o'clock in +the morning.</p> + +<p>She felt chilled, and not at all rested.</p> + +<p>In the little sitting-room downstairs she found a rapidly cooling plate +of bacon, uncovered, but solicitously placed on the floor close to the +gas-fire, and some large, irregular slices of toast. Marmalade stood in +a potted meat jar.</p> + +<p>It cannot be denied that Miss Vivian flung an agonized thought to the +memory of the admirably furnished breakfast-tray provided for her each +morning by the agency of the invaluable Preston at Plessing.</p> + +<p>Still very cold, and feeling utterly disinclined for the day's work, +Char donned her fur coat over her uniform and went out.</p> + +<p>She was not unconscious of the likelihood that her exit from the Hostel +might be observed from the windows, and reflected that it would be +incumbent on her for the present to take advantage of her new quarters +by starting for the office at least an hour earlier than any one else.</p> + +<p>But again she found here inconveniences which she had not taken into +consideration. The fire in her office was not yet lit, and the charwoman +who had charge of keeping the building in order greeted her with frank +dismay.</p> + +<p>"Your room isn't done yet, miss."</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian, exasperated, and colder than ever, set her lips together in +a line of endurance.</p> + +<p>"You can leave it for today, and in future I wish it to be ready for me +by nine o'clock. Please light the fire at once."</p> + +<p>The stage of lighting the fire, however, was further off than she +realized, and she was obliged to sit huddled in her fur coat, opening +letters with mottled, shaking hands that were turning rapidly purple, +while the charwoman made an excruciating raking sound at the grate, put +up an elaborate and exceedingly deliberate erection of coal, sticks, and +newspaper, and finally applied to it a match which resulted in a little +pale, cold flame which did not seem to Char productive of any warmth +whatever.</p> + +<p>She sat at her table and wrote:</p> + + +<p>"DEAREST BRUCEY,</p> + +<p>"Will you send me every woollen garment I have in the world, please? +Preston will find them. The cold here is quite appalling, and, of +course, one feels the absence of proper heating arrangements at the +Hostel terribly. It is, however, naturally much more convenient for me +to be able to give more time to the work, which is fearfully heavy after +my absence, and will probably increase every day now. I am writing from +the office, having been able to get in very early. It might not be a bad +plan, later on, to put in a couple of hours' work before breakfast, but +please don't let the suggestion dismay you! I shall move into rooms as +soon as my secretary can find some, and probably send for Preston. She +could be quite useful to me in several ways.</p> + +<p>"There is a mountain of papers on my table, all waiting to be dealt +with, so I can't go on writing; but I know how much you wanted to hear +if the Hostel had proved at all possible. Don't worry, dear old Brucey, +as I really can manage perfectly well for the present, in spite of the +bitter cold and poor Mrs. Bullivant's hopeless bad management. She had +not even arranged for my box to be taken upstairs; and as for hot water, +decently served meals, or proper waiting, they are simply unknown +quantities. I dare say I shall have to make one or two drastic changes. +You won't forget to ring me up if there is any change in father's +condition, of course. I could come out at once. This anxiety underlying +all one's work is heart-breaking, but I <i>know</i> that I was right to +decide as I did, and stick to my post.</p> + +<p>"Yours as ever,</p> + +<p>"CH. VIVIAN.</p> + +<p>"P.S.—Do as you like about reading this letter to my mother."</p> + + +<p>It was fairly certain in what direction Miss Bruce's "liking" would take +her on the point, and it was not without satisfaction that Char felt the +certainty of her voluntarily embraced hardships becoming known at +Plessing.</p> + +<p>Her letter to Miss Bruce somehow restored to her that sense of her own +adequacy which physical conditions of discomfort, against which she had +felt unable to react, had almost destroyed.</p> + +<p>When Miss Jones came to work, a few minutes earlier than usual, she +noted, with a regret that was not altogether impersonal, the cold, +bluish aspect of her employer's complexion, and wondered if she dared +infringe on Miss Delmege's cherished privilege of producing a +foot-warmer.</p> + +<p>But she was not aware that her own excellent circulation, quite +unmistakably displayed in her face and in an unusually white pair of +capable hands, formed a distinct addition to the sum of calamities that +had befallen Miss Vivian.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h3> + + +<p>"Char, I've come to warn you," portentously said Captain Trevellyan a +week later, entering the Canteen one evening.</p> + +<p>"That's very kind of you. Is it another air-raid?"</p> + +<p>"No; besides, you're all quite <i>blasées</i> about them now. Miss Jones, +single-handed, could cope with—"</p> + +<p>"What did you want to warn me about?" interrupted Char, with more +abruptness than apprehension in her voice.</p> + +<p>"A rescue-party. Miss Bruce is so much upset about you, because she +thinks the Hostel is killing you, that she's arranged a crusade to +deliver you."</p> + +<p>"Miss Bruce means very well, but surely she knows by this time that I +don't admit of interference with my work. What does she want to do?"</p> + +<p>"You'll see in a minute. I can hear the rescue-party at the door now, I +think. They were close behind me."</p> + +<p>Char swung round abruptly, and was engulfed in a furry embrace on the +instant.</p> + +<p>"My dear, pathetic martyr of a child! I've come to take you out of this +at once. I hear you've been through the most unspeakable time at that +Hostel!"</p> + +<p>Char disengaged herself from Mrs. Willoughby's clasp, and endeavoured to +silence the intolerable yapping sound that was going on apparently +beneath her feet.</p> + +<p>"That's Puffles—wicked little boy, be quiet. He <i>would</i> come with me, +though I told him that all good little boys went to bye-bye at this +hour; but he can't bear me out of his sight, you know. Isn't that too +quaint? Quiet, Puff! He understands every single word that's said to +him, you know. 'Oo clever, clever little man, aren't 'oo? Everything +except talk, 'oo can."</p> + +<p>"Come, come; he makes a pretty good shot at that, doesn't he?" +Trevellyan said dryly.</p> + +<p>"Johnnie, go away and find my precious Lance-Corporal for me. He'll +never forgive me if I don't go and talk to him; but you've such a crowd +here tonight I can't see any one. Besides, I want to talk to this dear +thing. Can't we <i>sit</i>, Char? My dear, never stand when you can possibly +sit. That's been my rule <i>all</i> my life, and so I've kept my figure. Not +that I'm as slim as you are; but, then, it simply wouldn't be decent if +I were, at my age. My Lewis always says that my figure is exactly right, +but I dare say he's biassed. Now, dear, what about <i>you</i>?"</p> + +<p>"We are particularly busy," Char said pointedly, "and I haven't a moment +to call my own. I've only looked in here tonight just to see that +everything's in order. Then I must go back to the office."</p> + +<p>"Quite unnecessary, I'm perfectly certain. And your looking in here is +all nonsense, dear. They all know the work perfectly, and do it far +better by themselves than when you're just pottering about, getting in +the way. If you put on an overall, and really turned into a perfect +barmaid, as I do, it would be different, but just to stand and look on +helps nobody, and tires you for nothing. You don't mind my speaking like +this? But I know your dearest mother's girl couldn't mind anything, from +<i>me</i>!"</p> + +<p>Lesbia possessed herself of Char's unresponsive fingers and squeezed +them affectionately.</p> + +<p>"Now I want to have a real heart-to-heart chat," she proclaimed, lightly +but penetratingly.</p> + +<p>Char flung a glance round the hall.</p> + +<p>One of the men was strumming on the piano, and a group gathered round +him was singing and humming, all together, "When Irish eyes are +smiling."</p> + +<p>The atmosphere was thick with tobacco-smoke, and the demands upon the +tea-urns heavier even than usual. Char saw Mrs. Potter, untidier than +ever, handing steaming cups across her buffet with incredible rapidity. +The noise of clattered crockery was unceasing. But Mrs. Willoughby's +voice dominated all these sounds.</p> + +<p>"I've heard the whole story from your beloved mother, ridiculously +monosyllabic though she always is, and, of course, from that poor, good +creature, Miss Bruce, who is miserable about you. She says that your +letters are <i>too</i> heartrending—about the misery of that wretched +Hostel, I mean. No food, no baths, no fires—and in this weather, too! +So, my dear child, you're simply coming straight home with me tonight, +to stay until we can find decent rooms for you, or persuade you to give +up all this nonsense and go back to Plessing."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; but I couldn't dream—"</p> + +<p>"Lewis will be <i>delighted</i>. I've explained the whole thing to him, and +he's quite overjoyed."</p> + +<p>It was impossible, remembering Major Willoughby's unalterable gloom of +demeanour, not to suppose that Lesbia's optimism might be overstating +the case, but Char only gave a fleeting thought to this consideration.</p> + +<p>"It's more than kind of you, but I'm afraid that poor Miss Bruce may be +over-anxious—"</p> + +<p>"Not another word, Char. Can't we send some one to put your things +together at once?"</p> + +<p>"Really, I'm most grateful, but I can't accept," said Char decisively. +"It's quite true that my secretary hasn't found rooms for me yet, but +meanwhile the Hostel does perfectly well, and I'm glad of the +opportunity for being so near my work. I couldn't dream of moving."</p> + +<p>She began cordially to wish that she had not sought to relieve her +feelings by those letters to Miss Bruce, from which the little secretary +would appear to have quoted so freely, and to have derived so much food +for anxiety.</p> + +<p>"Dearest girl, listen to me!" Lesbia exclaimed, raising her voice more +than ever above the increasing din and clatter all round them. "I've +been talking the whole thing over with your mother, and she's more than +willing that I should have you. You needn't trouble about that for a +<i>moment</i>. Poor dear Joanna was simply too sweet about it for words. 'I +know you'll be a mother to my girl for me,' she said."</p> + +<p>Lesbia gazed at Char with the air of one who believes absolutely in the +pathos she exploits, and Char was forced to the conclusion that she +actually imagined herself to be quoting correctly. For her own part, she +attached not the slightest value to Mrs. Willoughby's flights of fancy.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, she was vexed and uneasy. Why could not people leave her +alone? It was all very well for Miss Bruce to appreciate the stress of +circumstances under which Char pursued her work, but the voluble +importunity of Mrs. Willoughby was as unwelcome as it was unescapable. +Char looked round her, in search of a possible channel into which to +direct Lesbia's attention.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that your Lance-Corporal?" she rather basely inquired.</p> + +<p>"Where?" shrieked Lesbia. "You know, I'm quite, quite blind!"</p> + +<p>This was a fiction frequently indulged in by Mrs. Willoughby, whose eye +could safely be trusted to pierce the densest crowd when convenient to +herself.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> see him, just come in. Now, I suppose he'll make a bee-line +straight for my little corner. Dear thing, he always does! It's too +wonderful to hear him describe all that goes on <i>out there</i>, you know. +He was out right at the very beginning, all through Mons and the Marne +and Ypres and everything. They say the men don't like talking about it; +but I've had, I suppose, more experience than any woman in London, what +with one thing and another, and they always talk to me. The dear fellows +in the hospital I visit simply yarn by the hour—they <i>love</i> it—and +it's too enthralling for words. They're so sweetly quaint. One dear +fellow always talked about a place he called <i>Wipers</i>, and it was simply +ages before I realized that he meant <i>Ypres</i>! Wasn't that too +priceless?"</p> + +<p>On this highly original anecdote Mrs. Willoughby hurried away, +struggling into her blue-and-white overall as she went.</p> + +<p>Char saw her reach the side of the Lance-Corporal and break into voluble +greetings, punctuated by hysterical protests from the Pekinese, wedged +firmly under her arm.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Trevellyan's voice behind her.</p> + +<p>"Well! Nothing will induce me to go and stay there, with that wretched +little beast making its hideous noise all day and all night."</p> + +<p>They both laughed.</p> + +<p>"Seriously, Johnnie, I wish you'd tell Brucey that she really has +exceeded her privileges. I can't have plans of that sort made over my +head, as she should have known. What on earth possessed her?"</p> + +<p>"Your letter worried her. She thought that the Hostel sounded so +uncomfortable."</p> + +<p>"So it is. But, after all," said Char, torn between a desire to show +John how very much she was enduring in a good cause, and at the same +time how little she heeded such external conditions, "after all the work +is what really matters. It's for the sake of the work I put up with what +poor Brucey thinks are hardships."</p> + +<p>"But are they really necessary?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" said Char, displeased. "It certainly isn't possible +for a house built like the Hostel to be either as roomy or as convenient +as Plessing is. A certain amount of discomfort is practically +unavoidable."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! that's very hard on all of you. Don't the others find it +trying? They have to be there all the time, don't they?"</p> + +<p>"What others?" was the freezing inquiry of the Director of the Midland +Supply Depôt.</p> + +<p>Trevellyan looked at her in surprise, and replied quite simply: "The +other workers, of course."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I really don't know. I naturally never see anything of them, except +at the office; but, of course—well, I suppose they're used to very much +that sort of thing at home."</p> + +<p>"Surely not. I was really thinking," Trevellyan remarked with some +superfluity, "of Miss Jones."</p> + +<p>"You and my mother appear to find some recondite quality in Miss Jones +which I'm unable to discover!" exclaimed Char, laughing a little. "Of +course she's a lady, but really, as far as work goes—which is, of +course, all that matters just now—I've had a great many clerks who can +be of far more use than she can. It was a mistake having her out to +Plessing that time."</p> + +<p>She spoke in a reflective tone that had a conclusive quality in it, but +the tactless Trevellyan ignored the hint of finality and inquired +matter-of-factly: "Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because it may make the silly girl imagine that she's on a sort of +superior foothold. You know how idiotic some of them are about—well, +about me—as Director of the Supply Depôt, I mean. They can't look upon +me as a human being at all."</p> + +<p>"But you don't seem to want them to, Char. If you can live in the same +house with them all and yet never see them except at the office, it's no +wonder they don't look upon you as a human being."</p> + +<p>He spoke so quietly that it was only after a moment she realized the +condemnation that lay behind his words.</p> + +<p>It hurt her more than she would have supposed possible. Like most +complex organisms, she had an unreasoned craving for the approval of the +very simple, and she had always thought that Johnnie, easy-going and +uncritical, would accept her judgment as necessarily wider and more +subtle than his own.</p> + +<p>"I see," she said, very low. "You accept me and my work only at my +mother's valuation."</p> + +<p>"Well, no, Char. It isn't only that."</p> + +<p>John's voice held a certain regret, but no retractation.</p> + +<p>"It isn't only that evening at Plessing—though you know very well that +I didn't see that question of your leaving home as you did—but every +time I see you, you say or do something that makes me understand what +Dr. Prince meant that evening."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Char, low and bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I haven't any business to say anything about it at all. Only," +said Trevellyan, with his habitual extraordinarily ill-inspired candour, +"you know how much I care about Cousin Joanna."</p> + +<p>"So much that it blinds you to any point of view but hers, apparently. +Don't you really think that there was anything to be said for me, John? +I don't altogether enjoy giving up my whole life to this office work, +you know, under conditions of great difficulty and discomfort, and with +the additional pain of knowing how hopelessly misunderstood my motives +are. What has my father said about my leaving Plessing?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think Cousin Joanna has told him. You see, he's one of the +people who would misunderstand your motives, too, isn't he? And it would +upset him so much."</p> + +<p>"It's only in theory. He doesn't really want me in the least. It's +simply that he hasn't moved with the times, doesn't understand the +necessity that has arisen for women's work."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's quite true," Trevellyan said, but there was no sound of +concession in his voice.</p> + +<p>"My mother has given in to that all the time. You know she has. I +believe that if it had been possible she wouldn't have let him know +there was a war at all. It's—it's like helping an ostrich to bury its +head in the sand."</p> + +<p>"Don't you see," Trevellyan said, with a curious effect of reluctance, +as though aware that she would not see, after all, "that all that is +because she cares so much?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I don't. To me, the larger issue must always come first. +It's England at stake, John, and our own petty little personal problems +don't seem to count any longer."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," he acquiesced, "that the difference between your point of +view and hers is just that. She thinks that the personal problem still +counts, you see."</p> + +<p>"And you, of all people, can agree to that?"</p> + +<p>"It's not quite the same thing for me, is it? War is my profession, so +to speak. There are no other claims, so I need not balance values. It's +just plain-sailing—for me. And for most other men, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that all the women who have been giving time and trouble to +serious work, all the munition-makers, the nurses, the Government +workers, ought to go home again because of the old plea that home is a +woman's sphere?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't, and you know I don't. But I think that the question of +degree enters into it, and that where some women can very well afford to +give their whole time and strength, others—can't."</p> + +<p>"I see. Then it's simply a matter of counting the cost, and if it comes +too dear, hide behind the fact of being a woman!" said Char mockingly.</p> + +<p>It was always easy to defeat Johnnie verbally.</p> + +<p>He looked bewildered, and said: "You're too clever for me, Char, as you +always were. I can't pretend to argue with you. And I do admire the work +you're doing, more than I can say. Everybody says it's wonderful."</p> + +<p>He looked at her wistfully, and Char felt glad that the conversation +should end on a note that, on his part, was almost pleading.</p> + +<p>She rose, smiling a little.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Johnnie. And you'll soothe Plessing for me, won't you?"</p> + +<p>But Captain Trevellyan, also rising, shook his head and looked very +uncompromising.</p> + +<p>"Cousin Joanna is wonderful, but she looks very tired," he remarked, and +moved away as the sound of Puffles's bark heralded Lesbia Willoughby's +return.</p> + +<p>Char, also moving out of reach as rapidly as possible, saw him making +his way towards the corner where Grace Jones was wiping plates as fast +as they were handed to her, steaming and dripping, from the zinc +wash-tub.</p> + +<p>She felt annoyed and almost uneasy, and thought to herself: "He can't be +seriously attracted by her. Why, she isn't even pretty, as one or two of +them are."</p> + +<p>Attracted or not, Captain Trevellyan remained in conversation with Miss +Jones for the rest of the evening. Char had not even the satisfaction of +seeing her neglect her work, and forthwith rebuking her, for her +exceedingly pretty hands never stopped their rapid, efficient moving.</p> + +<p>Char decided that she owed it to the uniform to inform her cousin that +members of her staff, when engaged in the performance of their duty, +must not enter into unofficial conversations.</p> + +<p>She reserved this shaft, however, for later on, not wishing Trevellyan +to discover the immediate workings of the law of cause and effect.</p> + +<p>Her energies for the time being were fully engaged in avoiding the +hospitable advances of Mrs. Willoughby.</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, sweet child," said Lesbia acrimoniously, "you are +behaving like an absolute little fool (I know you won't mind your +mother's greatest friend being perfectly candid with you), and I assure +you that you'll regret it bitterly. As my Lewis said to me quite the +other day, that girl is simply ruining her chances. Whom does she ever +see, shut up with a pack of women all day and every day? Now, with us, +you'd at least have civilized meals, with half the regiment always +dropping in. The boys in Lewis's regiment always <i>did</i> come to me, from +the days when he was only a Captain—young things always cling to me."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Char, "but I'm afraid I shouldn't be very good +company. By the time I've finished work, and interviewed all the various +officials and dignitaries that I'm unfortunately obliged to see on nine +days out of ten, I have not very much conversation left to entertain +youths from the barracks."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby made no pretence at failing to perceive the motive +inspiring these utterances.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, you may drag in those moss-grown and mouldering old +officials as much as you please to show me that it isn't only a pack of +women, but I'm not in the least impressed. Unfortunate old dotards put +into khaki which is much too tight for them, and probably thinking what +a pity it is that a pretty girl should talk so much nonsense! I met Dr. +Prince the other day, and I can assure you that he doesn't in the least +enjoy your interference with his Hospital."</p> + +<p>"Probably not. I've had it put on to a proper military basis, and all +these country practitioners resent anything done by the R.A.M.C."</p> + +<p>"Nothing to do with the R.A.M.C., darling," retorted Lesbia piercingly. +"Don't be childish! All that <i>he</i> resents—and I perfectly sympathize +with him—is being shown his business by a chit who, as he says himself, +probably would never have come into the world alive at all without his +help."</p> + +<p>Char left the honours of the last word with the outspoken Mrs. +Willoughby, having, indeed, no reply ready to fit the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Well, good-night, Char, and if you like to eat humble pie and come to +me at any time, Lewis and I will be perfectly delighted. I've always +longed to have a girl of my own, as I told Joanna, and I understand +<i>all</i> young things. Don't I, my Puffles? Now I must take 'oo home, +precious one, so come along. Oh! mustn't bark—naughty, naughty!"</p> + +<p>Char turned her back on Mrs. Willoughby and the utterly unsilenced Puff, +and left the Canteen.</p> + +<p>She had meant to return to the office again, but had stayed longer than +usual at the Canteen, and decided to go back to the Hostel instead. +Certainly, it was uncomfortable there, and as the piercing weather +continued, she found the lack of comfort ever more trying. But to return +nightly to Mrs. Willoughby and Puff! She dismissed the thought with a +shudder.</p> + +<p>Besides, there were her mother and Trevellyan and Miss Bruce to convince +that she was in earnest about her work, and would undergo discomfort and +privation in order to carry it on successfully. Even Dr. Prince, Char +reflected with some bitterness, might admit that she was prepared to +make sacrifices in the attainment of her goal.</p> + +<p>There was also the Hostel. Char knew from Mrs. Bullivant, and less +directly from Miss Delmege, that her staff felt a wondering admiration +and compassion at her courage in having left home and a father who was +ill for the sake of patriotic work. She knew, by the sort of uncanny +intuition that is generally the possession of the ultra-subtle, that +when her gaze from time to time became abstracted over her work, or her +attitude of set concentration relaxed for an occasional moment, Miss +Delmege thought pityingly of the anxiety which must underlie all Miss +Vivian's close and capable attention to the many details of her gigantic +task. Miss Delmege thought her "wonderful," undoubtedly. Char told +herself, with a slight smile, that she did not deserve her secretary's +blind idealism of her, but at the same time she was subconsciously +aware of a certain resentment that the idealism should be so utterly +unshared by Miss Delmege's understudy, the matter-of-fact, eminently +undazzled Miss Jones.</p> + +<p>Char went into the Hostel still thinking of Miss Jones. The hall was +quite dark, but the sitting-room door was open, and as she went upstairs +Char glanced in, hearing the sound of voices. There was a circle +gathered close round the fire, and for a moment she did not recognize +the central figure, seated on the floor and drying a cloud of brown hair +at the blaze. Then she saw that it was Miss Plumtree, and noted with +surprise that the girl, with her hair on her shoulders and her round, +flushed face, was very pretty.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Johnnie was right, and I really don't look upon them as human +beings," she thought, rather amused.</p> + +<p>Some obscure instinct of testing herself caused her suddenly to turn and +enter the sitting-room.</p> + +<p>There was a sudden, startled silence as she stopped in the doorway, and +then, almost simultaneously, the members of the staff rose to their +feet.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't move," Char said affably.</p> + +<p>There was an awkward pause, and then Miss Plumtree, giggling, exclaimed: +"Oh, my hair! I've been washing it, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"You're all late tonight, aren't you? I fancy I generally hear you come +upstairs earlier than this."</p> + +<p>"I do hope we don't disturb you, Miss Vivian," Miss Delmege said, in a +concerned voice. "I'm so often afraid that you must hear the water going +in the bathroom, and all that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter."</p> + +<p>There was another silence. Nobody had sat down again. Miss Plumtree had +clutched at her hair with both hands and was shoving it behind her ears +as though in a desperate attempt to convince Miss Vivian that it was not +really loose on her shoulders.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege put her head on one side, and gazed at Miss Vivian with a +rather concerned expression of attention.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm afraid I'm disturbing you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Miss Vivian," they chorused politely.</p> + +<p>"Good-night."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>The relaxation of a strain was quite unmistakable in this last +chorusing.</p> + +<p>"Idiots!" ejaculated Miss Vivian to herself as she went to her own room. +She heard voices and laughter break out again as she went up the stairs.</p> + +<p>Obviously it was not possible to attempt any unofficial footing with her +staff, even had she herself desired such a thing. To them she was Miss +Vivian, a being in supreme authority, in whose presence naturalness +became impossible and utterly undesirable.</p> + +<p>John knew nothing about it.</p> + +<p>On this summing up, Char went to bed.</p> + +<p>Twice she heard conversations on the stairs, in which the astounding +fact that "Miss Vivian came into the sitting room, and there was +Plumtree with her hair down, actually <i>down</i>, my dear," was repeated, +and received with incredulous ejaculations or commiserating giggles. +Finally, the workers from the Canteen came in, groped their way up in +the dark, and were met on the landing by the hissing, sibilant whisper +peculiar to Miss Delmege.</p> + +<p>"H'sh, girls! Don't make a noise. Miss Vivian has practically told me +that she can hear you in the bathroom every night. It really is too bad, +you know, when she simply needs every minute's rest she can get."</p> + +<p>"Well, so do we. Let me get past, dear." Miss Marsh's tones spoke +eloquently of the tartness induced by fatigue.</p> + +<p>"<i>Must</i> you go to the bathroom tonight?"</p> + +<p>"Of course we must. What an idea! How am I to get my kettle boiled? I'm +simply pining for a cup of tea; the work was awful tonight."</p> + +<p>"Was Miss Vivian at the Canteen?"</p> + +<p>"Just for a bit; talking to that cousin of hers—the Staff Officer one, +you know."</p> + +<p>"I know. She came into the sitting-room when she got in, and what <i>do</i> +you think? Plumtree had been washing her hair, and it was all down her +back!"</p> + +<p>"Gracious! And Miss Vivian came in?"</p> + +<p>"Came in, and there was Plumtree with her hair down her back!"</p> + +<p>"What <i>did</i> she do?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. There was nothing <i>to</i> do, you know; there she simply was, +with her hair actually down her back!"</p> + +<p>"I say, Gracie, do you hear that? Plumtree really has no luck. Miss +Vivian came into the sitting-room tonight just when she'd been washing +her hair, and had it actually down her back."</p> + +<p>Char listened rather curiously to hear how Miss Jones would receive this +climax. Her voice came distinctly, with a little amusement in it, and +the usual quality of sympathetic interest which she apparently always +accorded to any one's crisis.</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope she didn't mind. She has such pretty hair."</p> + +<p>"That's hardly the point, is it?" said Miss Delmege reprovingly. "It +looked rather funny, after all, for Miss Vivian coming in like that, to +see her with her hair absolutely down her back."</p> + +<p>"Even if it was funny," said Grace literally, "I dare say Miss Vivian +didn't notice it. I never think she has much sense of humour. +Good-night."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h3> + + +<p>"Good-morning, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Miss Collins. Please take a letter to—"</p> + +<p>The stenographer giggled and tossed her red head: "Mrs. Baker-Bridges, +if you please!"</p> + +<p>Char looked at her typist blankly for an instant, and then recovered +herself, unsmiling.</p> + +<p>"Yes. This letter is to the Town Hall Hospital, and I wish you'd +remember, Miss Collins, to—"</p> + +<p>"I haven't got used to it meself yet," Mrs. Baker-Bridges said coyly. "A +double name, too, so I suppose it's harder to remember."</p> + +<p>"Will you make me three copies of this, please?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>Char dictated her letter very briskly, and avoided the use of her +stenographer's name, not wishing to submit to further correction. It did +not add to her complacency, during the busy days before Christmas, when +her instructions were received with an affronted giggle and "Mrs. +Baker-Bridges, <i>please</i>, Miss Vivian!"</p> + +<p>Char was in rooms now, with the devoted Preston in attendance and +occasional visits from Miss Bruce. She was working very hard, and the +Christmas festivities indulged in by the Questerham Hospitals frequently +required her presence as guest of honour.</p> + +<p>Char still retained a vivid recollection of finding herself next to Dr. +Prince on one of these occasions, both of them required to join in a +rousing chorus of which the refrain was</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"All jolly comrades we!"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>And the look which the doctor, singing lustily, had turned upon her, +held a humorousness that Char felt no disposition to reflect in her own +gaze. She was quite aware that neither of them had forgotten the +doctor's peroration delivered on the night of her decision to leave +Plessing, and the recollection of it still, almost unconsciously, +coloured all her official dealings with him.</p> + +<p>It was therefore with surprise that she received an announcement from +Miss Jones one evening: "Dr. Prince is downstairs and wants to see you +for a moment."</p> + +<p>"At this hour? Quite impossible! It's nearly seven, and I have +innumerable letters to sign."</p> + +<p>Grace hesitated, and then said, very gently: "I think he's just come +from Plessing."</p> + +<p>Char glanced at her sharply.</p> + +<p>"Ask him to come up, then."</p> + +<p>Sudden apprehension had taken possession of her, and increased at the +sight of the doctor's kind bearded face, with its lines of fatigue and +anxiety.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Dr. Prince?"</p> + +<p>"Could you spare me a few moments?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Miss Jones, will you—"</p> + +<p>Char, glancing round, saw with a slight feeling of annoyance that Miss +Jones had not waited to be dismissed. Char did not relish being +perpetually disconcerted by the independence of her junior secretary.</p> + +<p>"A nice girl, that," said the doctor benevolently.</p> + +<p>Char looked utterly unresponsive, and supposed rather indignantly to +herself that Dr. Prince had not come to the office at the end of a long +day's work merely in order to tell her that Miss Jones was a nice girl.</p> + +<p>Something of the supposition was so evident in her manner that the +doctor added hastily: "But I mustn't take up your time. Only I've just +come from Plessing, and Lady Vivian asked me herself to come in here for +a moment and—and tell you—ask you, you know—just suggest—only throw +it out as a suggestion, since no doubt you've thought of it for +yourself—"</p> + +<p>The doctor fell into a fine confusion, and looked imploringly at Char.</p> + +<p>"Is my father worse?"</p> + +<p>"No. I didn't mean to frighten you, Miss Vivian; I'm so sorry. He's not +worse, though, as you know, he's not gaining ground as we'd hoped, and +of course he's not getting any younger. But the fact is, that he's set +his heart on your being home for Christmas."</p> + +<p>Char drew her brows together.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I can arrange to spend a couple of nights there if he wishes +it. But my mother laid great emphasis on the fact that she did not wish +there to be any going backwards and forwards between the office and +Plessing, as you doubtless remember."</p> + +<p>"My dear young lady, where Sir Piers's wishes are concerned, she has no +will but his. You don't need <i>me</i> to tell you that."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Char musingly, "he has old-fashioned ideas as to one's +spending Christmas at home."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the doctor, "that's it. That was our generation, though I'm +twenty years younger than your father, Miss Vivian. But early Victorians +I suppose you'd call us both. He can't understand your not being at +home, all together, for Christmas-time. We can't disguise from ourselves +that his mind is a little—a very little—clouded, and he doesn't +rightly understand your absence."</p> + +<p>"I can't go over that ground again," Char told him frigidly. "I was in +an exceedingly painful position, and had to choose between my home and +what I conceived to be my duty. As you know, I put my country's need +before any personal question just now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said the doctor, obviously determined to stifle +recollections of his Hospital in its pre-Vivian days. "I—I see your +point, you know. But Sir Piers hears very little of the war nowadays, +and I don't think he connects your absence with that now."</p> + +<p>"What does he suppose, then?" Char asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian, his mind is clouded. We can't deny that his mind is +clouded. I believe," said the doctor pitifully, "that he just thinks you +are away because Plessing is so dull and quiet. Lady Vivian promised him +that you were coming back for Christmas, and it pleased him."</p> + +<p>"It is most unjust to me that the facts have not been explained to him."</p> + +<p>"But you remember," the doctor reminded her gently, "that they <i>were</i> +explained to him before he got ill. And he wanted you to stay at home, +you know."</p> + +<p>Char was silent.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the doctor at length, "Lady Vivian suggested that I should +drive you out on Christmas Eve. I shall be going to Plessing then—next +Thursday."</p> + +<p>"Thank you; but I'd better hire something if they can't send the car +from home. I may not get away till late. Troop-trains are pouring in, +and there is a great deal to be done. There are the Hospital festivities +to be considered."</p> + +<p>The doctor repressed an inclination to say that he knew all about the +Hospital festivities, and instead answered that he quite understood, but +could arrange to call for Miss Vivian at any hour convenient to her.</p> + +<p>"I will let you know, if I may."</p> + +<p>Char, nothing if not self-possessed, rose to her feet, and it became +obvious that the interview was over.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Dr. Prince."</p> + +<p>The dismissed doctor hurried downstairs, muttering to himself, after his +fashion when vexed and disconcerted.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the stairs he overtook Grace Jones with her hat and coat +on. She looked up at him with her ready, pleased smile.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, doctor. I'm so glad you found Miss Vivian disengaged."</p> + +<p>"Conceited monkey—" began Dr. Prince, almost automatically, then +hastily recollected himself and said: "Yes, yes. Are you off duty now?"</p> + +<p>"Just. I've got to go down to the station and see about a case of +anti-tetanic serum for one of the hospitals, which is due by the 7.50 +train, but I can take it up there to-morrow. You know how precious it +is, and we daren't trust the orderlies with it since Coles had that +smash."</p> + +<p>"To be sure. Well, I'll drive you down in my car to get it, if you like, +and then I can take it up to the Hospital. I've got to go there again +tonight."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you."</p> + +<p>The doctor liked the pleased gratitude in Grace's voice.</p> + +<p>"I want so much to know how Sir Piers Vivian is," she said presently.</p> + +<p>The doctor shook his head.</p> + +<p>"A question of time, you know, when there's been a stroke—at that age. +He doesn't rally very much, either. And the brain, Miss Jones, is +clouded. We can't deny that it's clouded."</p> + +<p>"Oh, poor Lady Vivian!"</p> + +<p>"She knows it as well as I do. Doesn't let on, you know, but she's never +been deluded from the first. And there she is all day, in the room, you +know, except just when he's sleeping, reading to him, and talking quite +cheerfully and trying to get him to take a pleasure in some little thing +or other. I've never seen her break down, and we doctors see that sort +of thing when other people don't sometimes. But she's been under a +strain for a long while now—oh, before he got ill—and yet she carries +on somehow. Ah, breeding is a wonderful thing, Miss Jones. There have +been Vivians at Plessing for more generations than I can count, and +<i>she</i> was a Trevellyan. They're from these parts, too, though it's a +West Country name. I may be an old snob, Miss Jones, but I was brought +up to reverence those whom God Almighty had set in high places, and the +Vivians of Plessing have always stood to me for the highest in the land. +A pity there isn't a son there!"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"There are cousins, of course. Sir Piers has a brother with children. +But one would have liked the direct line—and for <i>her</i> to leave +Plessing, it seems hard. If there'd only been a boy!"</p> + +<p>"He would be fighting now," Grace reminded him.</p> + +<p>"To be sure, and so many only sons have gone. If Miss Charmian there had +been a boy, though! I tell you frankly," said the doctor, in an +outburst, "that I don't understand her. She and I have had ructions in +our time, Miss Jones, and I've known her ever since she came into the +world. And now, when it comes to a Hospital Return—!"</p> + +<p>The doctor nearly swerved his car into a market wagon, apologized to +Grace, and said candidly: "I really hardly know what I'm at when I get +on to the subject. Army Form 01864A in duplicate indeed! And as for the +Nomenclature of Diseases that we hear so much about nowadays, I rather +fancy that I was at home there some twenty years before Miss Charmian's +little typewritten pamphlets on the subject were issued. Telling me that +conjunctivitis is a disease of the eye, and what V.D.H. stands for! War +Office instructions, indeed!"</p> + +<p>Grace laughed discreetly, and after an instant the doctor laughed too.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, well, we're all working in a great cause," he conceded, +"and I suppose she does wonders. They all tell me so. Perhaps it seems a +little hard to those of us who've been trying to conquer pain and +disease for a number of years to be put under military discipline by an +impudent monk—H'm, h'm, h'm! by a young lady in a uniform striped with +gold like a zebra! But she's certainly untiring in her work; so are you +all. This must be quite a new style of thing to you, Miss Jones?"</p> + +<p>"I was in a hospital for a little while at the beginning of the war, but +I can only do clerical work."</p> + +<p>"But nothing before the war, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. I just helped my father at home."</p> + +<p>"I thought so," said the doctor, with an odd sound of unmistakable +satisfaction in his voice. He was glad that this nice little girl who +listened with such interest while he talked, and so evidently admired +Sir Piers and Lady Vivian of Plessing, should have lived at home before +the war and not gone dashing out in search of an independent livelihood.</p> + +<p>"Lady Vivian asks after you very often," he told her. "You saw her every +day for a time, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, while Miss Vivian was at Plessing. I should like to see her again. +Will you give her my love?" said Grace.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed I will. She's lonely out there, I often think, though young +Trevellyan comes out when he can. Nice boy that, but they'll be sending +him out again directly, I suppose. Now, then, Miss Jones, here's the +station."</p> + +<p>Grace despatched her business at the parcels office as quickly as +possible, and came back with the neat wooden case carefully labelled all +over.</p> + +<p>"Put it there; it'll be quite safe. I wish I could take you back to +Pollard Street, but they're expecting me at the Hospital and I must get +on. Shall you be all right?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, and thank you so much. The walk will warm me, and it isn't +far. Good-night, doctor."</p> + +<p>"Good-night," responded the doctor cordially as the car started down the +hill towards the Hospital.</p> + +<p>He wondered whether Char would accept his offer to drive her out to +Plessing on Christmas Eve, and reflected rather ruefully that, if so, it +would certainly be a late and cold transit. But, at all events, his +mission would have succeeded.</p> + +<p>He triumphantly told Lady Vivian next day that Char was coming to +Plessing on Christmas Eve.</p> + +<p>"I put the case diplomatically, you know—just used a little tact, and +she never made any difficulty at all. Delighted to come, if you ask me," +said the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Thank you so much, Dr. Prince. I've told Sir Piers that she's coming, +and he's so pleased. Don't let her start too late; it's so bitterly cold +and the roads are very bad. I can't send the car in for her, as you +know; since the chauffeur was called up, I've no one to drive it. But if +you're kind enough to bring her—"</p> + +<p>"I'll bring her fast enough, if she'll let me," said the doctor. +"Anyhow, she shall come, which is the point. She said at once that she'd +come."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Joanna dryly. "You won't expect me to be enthusiastic at +such condescension, will you?"</p> + +<p>The doctor looked at her with concern evident in his shrewd, kindly +gaze.</p> + +<p>He had known Joanna Vivian ever since she had come to Plessing as a +bride, and had never heard that note of bitterness in her voice before. +He told himself sadly that the long strain of Sir Piers's illness was +telling on her at last, in spite of her splendid physique. In his heart +the doctor did not believe that the strain would last much longer.</p> + +<p>"I wish you had some one here to keep you company," he said awkwardly. +"Even Miss Bruce was better than no one."</p> + +<p>"She's only with Char for a few days. She'll soon be back, probably +tomorrow. And meanwhile I had an offer of companionship only this +morning. Do you know Mrs. Willoughby?"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, yes!" said the doctor, and they both laughed.</p> + +<p>"I should <i>really</i> like Char's Miss Jones to come out to me for a few +days," said Joanna, rather wistfully. "She and I understand one another +very well, and she's such a restful person."</p> + +<p>"A thoroughly nice girl, and most intelligent," warmly remarked the +doctor, reflecting how sympathetic Miss Jones had shown herself to be +over the question of Medical Boards. "Why shouldn't I bring her out with +Miss Charmian on Thursday night?"</p> + +<p>"I only wish you would, but I don't want to throw Char into a fit."</p> + +<p>"I'll chance that," said the doctor grimly. "She'd only tell me that +fits are a disease of the nervous system, and should be shown as N.S. on +all Hospital returns."</p> + +<p>He told himself that if Lady Vivian wanted to see Miss Jones it was +preposterous that she should not be allowed to have her out to Plessing. +Diplomacy, the doctor reflected, could arrange the whole thing.</p> + +<p>Believing himself to be the possessor of this attribute, Dr. Prince, on +the morning before Christmas Eve, rang up the office of the Midland +Supply Depôt on the telephone.</p> + +<p>"Can I speak to Miss Vivian, if you please?"</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" inquired an attenuated voice at the other end.</p> + +<p>"The Officer Commanding Questerham V.A. Hospital," firmly replied the +doctor.</p> + +<p>If Miss Vivian wanted officialness, she should have it.</p> + +<p>"Can I give a message for you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I must speak to Miss Vivian herself."</p> + +<p>"One moment, please."</p> + +<p>The doctor waited, and presently the voice said: "I've put you through +to Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" exclaimed a weary tone. "Miss Vivian speaking."</p> + +<p>"Good-evening," said the doctor briskly. "What time am I to call for you +tomorrow afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that you, Dr. Prince? But you really mustn't trouble to call for +me; I can hire something."</p> + +<p>"Not on Christmas Eve."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not. Well, let me see. Unless anything unforeseen occurs I +think I could get away by eight."</p> + +<p>"That will do splendidly," ruefully said the doctor, aware of +sacrificing truth to diplomacy. "I suppose your office work will go on +without you just the same?"</p> + +<p>There was a pause, which the doctor interpreted as an astounded one.</p> + +<p>"The office will treat Christmas Day as a Sunday. It will probably be +necessary for me to come in during the afternoon, as I do on Sundays, +but only for a few hours."</p> + +<p>The doctor gathered himself together for a Machiavellian effort.</p> + +<p>"Why not leave that very intelligent little secretary of yours, Miss +Jones, to take your place?"</p> + +<p>"A junior clerk? Out of the question. But I needn't trouble you with +those details, of course. As a matter of fact, no one will be here on +Christmas Day except the telephone clerk."</p> + +<p>"I strongly advise you to leave Miss Jones in charge, if I may be +permitted to suggest it."</p> + +<p>"Miss Jones," said Char, very distinctly, "has none of the experience +necessary for a position of responsibility, and I should not dream of +entrusting her with one. She will have nothing whatever to do with the +office during my absence."</p> + +<p>The triumph of diplomacy was complete.</p> + +<p>"In that case," said the doctor in a great hurry, "your mother need have +no scruple as to inviting her out to Plessing for Christmas. I know she +wants to—in fact, I'm charged with the invitation—but it seemed +incredible that you should be able to spare her from her work. But I +mustn't keep you. Good-night, Miss Vivian. At eight tomorrow I'll come +for you both. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>The triumphant doctor put back the receiver.</p> + +<p>"Hoist with her own petard!" he muttered to himself in great +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>That afternoon he found time to call on Miss Bruce, on the verge of +departure from Char's lodgings, and triumphantly charged her with a +message for Lady Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Tell her that I've arranged the whole thing, and Miss Jones is coming +out tomorrow evening in the car to spend Christmas."</p> + +<p>"At Plessing? But why?" asked the astonished Miss Bruce.</p> + +<p>"Because Lady Vivian wants her," said the doctor stoutly. "She's taken a +fancy to her, and I'm sure I don't wonder. A charming girl!"</p> + +<p>"I had an idea that Miss Vivian never thought her very efficient," +doubtfully remarked Miss Bruce.</p> + +<p>"There are a great many people whom she doesn't think efficient, +although they've been at their job more years than she's been out of +long clothes; but in this case it serves our turn very well. She'll be +out of that confounded office for a couple of days."</p> + +<p>"Does Miss Vivian know this?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me, yes," said the doctor glibly. "I talked it all over with her +on the telephone this morning. That's quite all right. Now, Miss Bruce, +supposing you let me give you a lift to the station? It's going to snow +again."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce accepted gratefully, and the doctor felt slightly ashamed of +his own strategy for avoiding any possible conversation between her and +Char on the subject of Miss Jones's visit to Plessing.</p> + +<p>Diplomacy was not an easy career.</p> + +<p>Nothing now remained, however, but to tell Miss Jones of her invitation +and to insure her acceptance of it.</p> + +<p>The indefatigable doctor stopped his car at the door of the Hostel soon +after half-past seven that evening.</p> + +<p>"Would Miss Jones be good enough to speak to me for a moment?" he +inquired, when Mrs. Bullivant came to the door.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, but I think she's out. Some of the girls have gone to the +theatre tonight. Is it a message from Miss Vivian?" the Superintendent +asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly," was the evasion exacted by diplomacy.</p> + +<p>"Shall I give her any message when she gets back?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; that might be best," eagerly said the doctor, conscious of +cowardice. "Would you tell her that Lady Vivian—and—and Miss +Vivian—are both expecting her at Plessing tomorrow evening, to spend a +couple of days? Lady Vivian particularly wants to see her again, and it +will be good for her to have some one to cheer her up. Tell Miss Jones +that it's all been arranged, and I'll call for her at the office +tomorrow evening at eight o'clock and drive her out. I've got to go out +there in any case, and the last train goes at four, so they must go by +road."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sure that will be delightful for her!" exclaimed the +unsuspecting Mrs. Bullivant. "How very kind of Miss Vivian!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It's Lady Vivian, of course, who really suggested the idea, one +day when I happened to mention Miss Jones. She likes her very much, and, +of course, it's lonely for her now. I'm glad this should have been +thought of," said the doctor, with a great effect of detachment. "Well, +I mustn't keep you at the door in this cold. It's freezing tonight +again, unless I'm much mistaken. Good-night."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, doctor. I won't forget the message. I'm delighted that +Gracie should have such a treat."</p> + +<p>The doctor, as he drove away, was delighted too, with himself and with +the success of his manoeuvres. He thought that Lady Vivian would be very +glad to see the girl for whom she evidently felt such a sense of +comradeship, and he, like Mrs. Bullivant, was glad of the pleasure for +Grace; but, most of all, the doctor felt a guilty satisfaction in the +knowledge of having successfully outwitted the Director of the Midland +Supply Depôt.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h3> + + +<p>"Tell Miss Vivian that we can't wait; we must start at once. The sleet +has been falling, and the roads will be impossible in less than an hour. +I don't know how the car will do it as it is."</p> + +<p>Dr. Prince was harassed but determined.</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh reluctantly took this message upstairs. She had already had +occasion to observe during the course of the evening that Miss Vivian +was in no frame of mind to welcome interruptions.</p> + +<p>"I'm not ready."</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh stood unhappily in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"What the <i>dickens</i> are you standing there for?" cried Miss Vivian in +exasperated tones.</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh was standing there from her own intimate conviction of being +placed between the devil and the deep sea, and her extreme reluctance to +confront the impatient doctor with Miss Vivian's unsatisfactory reply. +To her great relief, she found Grace in conversation with him.</p> + +<p>"Well, is she coming?"</p> + +<p>"The moment she can, Dr. Prince. She really won't be long now," was Miss +Marsh's liberal interpretation of her chief's message.</p> + +<p>"The thaw isn't going to wait for her," said the doctor grimly. "It's +begun already, and after three weeks' frost we shall have the roads like +a sheet of glass."</p> + +<p>"I think I hear the telephone," said Miss Marsh, hastening away, +thankful of the opportunity to escape before the doctor should request +her to return with his further commands to Miss Vivian.</p> + +<p>But presently Char came downstairs in her fur coat and heavy motoring +veil, carrying a huge sheaf of papers and a small bag.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry you've been kept waiting. I was afraid that, as I told you, I +might not be able to start punctually."</p> + +<p>"It's this confounded change in the weather," said the doctor +disconsolately. "How could one guess that it would choose tonight to +begin to rain after three weeks' black frost? However, I dare say it +won't have thawed yet. Come along. At any rate, it won't be quite so +cold."</p> + +<p>The little car standing at the door was a very small two-seater, with a +tiny raised seat at the back.</p> + +<p>"Where will you sit, Miss Vivian, with me in front or on the back seat?" +inquired the doctor unconcernedly. "Have either of you any preference?"</p> + +<p>"I think I'd better come in front," said the Director of the Midland +Supply Depôt, very coldly. She took no notice of Miss Jones.</p> + +<p>It was very dark, and a thin, cold rain had begun to fall. The doctor +groaned, and drove out of Questerham as rapidly as he dared. On the high +road it was already terribly slippery. After the car had twice skidded +badly, the doctor said resignedly: "Well, we must make up our minds to +crawl. Lady Vivian will guess what's delayed us. I hope you had dinner +before starting?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank you," replied Grace serenely.</p> + +<p>"Naturally, I haven't been able to leave the office, but then I never +have dinner till about nine o'clock," Char said. "I've almost forgotten +what it is to keep civilized hours."</p> + +<p>"Then, all I can say is, that you'll be extremely hungry before we get +to Plessing," was the doctor's only reply to this display of patriotism.</p> + +<p>The car crawled along slowly. About four miles out of the town the +doctor ventured slightly to increase speed. "Otherwise we shall never +get up this hill," he prophesied.</p> + +<p>"It's better here, I think," said Char.</p> + +<p>"I think it is. Now for it."</p> + +<p>The pace of the little car increased for about a hundred yards. Then +there was a long grinding jar and a violent swerve.</p> + +<p>"Confound her! she's in the ditch!" cried the doctor. "Are you all right +there, Miss Jones?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," gasped the shaken Grace, clinging to her perch.</p> + +<p>"Get out," the doctor commanded Miss Vivian, in tones that suggested his +complete oblivion of their respective positions as regarded official +dignity. Char obeyed gingerly, and stood grasping the door of the car.</p> + +<p>"Take care; it's like a sheet of ice."</p> + +<p>The doctor slid and staggered round to the front of his car, the two +front wheels of which were deeply sunken in the snow and slush of the +ditch. He made a disconsolate examination by the light of the lamps.</p> + +<p>"Stuck as tight as wax. Now, what the deuce are we to do?"</p> + +<p>"Can't we move her? asked Grace.</p> + +<p>"Not much chance of it, but we might as well try."</p> + +<p>Grace got down, and they strained at the car, but without any success.</p> + +<p>"No use," said the doctor briefly. "I think you two had better stay here +while I get back to Questerham—we're nearer Questerham than Plessing, I +fancy—and bring something out. Though, good heavens! I'd forgotten it's +Christmas Eve. What on earth shall I get?"</p> + +<p>"I can authorize you to call up one of the ambulance cars."</p> + +<p>"That's an idea. I'm sorrier than I can say to leave you on the roadside +like this," said the doctor distractedly. "Put the rug round you both, +and if anything comes past, get a lift. The car will be all right. I +defy the most determined thief to make her move an inch. H'm! I must +take one of these lamps, and I'll make as much haste as this confounded +sheet of ice will allow."</p> + +<p>"Wait!" cried Grace. "I can hear something coming, I think."</p> + +<p>They stood and listened. The hoot of a very distant motor-horn came to +them distinctly.</p> + +<p>"Coming towards us," was the doctor's verdict. "With any luck it'll take +you both back to Questerham. It's your best chance of getting to bed +tonight. Miss Vivian, you're shivering. Confound it all, it's enough to +give you both pneumonia, hanging about on a night like this! What an old +fool I've been!"</p> + +<p>"It couldn't be helped, could it?" said Grace. "There were no trains +running after four o'clock, and we couldn't guess the weather would +change so. And it isn't nearly so cold as it has been."</p> + +<p>"Have a cigarette?" said the doctor suddenly, lighting his own pipe. +"It'll help you to keep warm."</p> + +<p>"Smoking in uniform is entirely out of order, but for this once—thank +you," said Miss Vivian, with a slight laugh.</p> + +<p>The sound of a motor-bicycle became unmistakable, and the doctor +advanced cautiously into the middle of the road.</p> + +<p>"Ahoy, there! Could you stop half a minute? We've had a spill. Two +ladies here."</p> + +<p>"Is that Dr. Prince?" came a voice that made Char exclaim: "It's John +Trevellyan!"</p> + +<p>The motor-bicycle, with its small side-car, drew up beside them.</p> + +<p>"Have you had a telephone message?" said John.</p> + +<p>"From Plessing? No. What's happened?" said the doctor sharply.</p> + +<p>The two men exchanged a look.</p> + +<p>Char came forward.</p> + +<p>"You'd better tell me," she said in her slow, deep drawl.</p> + +<p>"Cousin Joanna telephoned just before eight o'clock, but you must have +started," John said gently. "She wanted to ask Dr. Prince to make as +much haste as possible—and you."</p> + +<p>"My father?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid it's another stroke, my dear."</p> + +<p>The doctor asked a few rapid professional questions, and Grace came and +stood near Char Vivian.</p> + +<p>"When you didn't come," said John, "Miss Bruce got anxious, and felt +sure there'd been a spill. Cousin Joanna was upstairs, with him; I don't +think she realized. So I brought the only thing I could get hold of. You +can ride a motor-bike, doctor?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I can. But we can't leave two young ladies planted in a +ditch, with that confounded machine of mine," said the doctor, his +distress finding vent in irritability.</p> + +<p>"There's the side-car," said Grace. "Miss Vivian must go with you, +doctor."</p> + +<p>"Can't we get your machine out of the ditch?" John suggested.</p> + +<p>"Not unless you're a Hercules," said the doctor crossly. He began to +examine the motor-bicycle.</p> + +<p>"I can manage this all right, though no machine on earth will do +anything but crawl on such a road. Miss Vivian, that will be our best +plan."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Char, very quietly. "And, Johnnie, can you look after +Miss—er—Jones, and take her back to Questerham?"</p> + +<p>"Get in, Char," said Trevellyan. "I shall certainly look after Miss +Jones, and bring her out to Plessing somehow or other. Your mother wants +her. Send anything you can to meet us, doctor."</p> + +<p>"Right; but I'm afraid we can't count on meeting anything tonight, of +all nights. Miss Jones, I'm so sorry. All right there?"</p> + +<p>The motor-bicycle, with a push from Trevellyan, jolted slowly away along +the slippery road, and John and Miss Jones stood facing one another by +the indifferent light of the motor-lamps.</p> + +<p>Grace looked at him with her direct, gentle gaze. "Please tell me +whether you really meant that," she said. "Does Lady Vivian want me at +Plessing just the same?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered, with equal directness. "She said so. She told me to +bring you. She said she wanted you."</p> + +<p>Grace drew a long breath, then said: "We shall have to walk, sha'n't +we?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so—at least part of the way. Unless you'd rather stay in +the car, and keep as warm as you can, while I go on to Questerham and +try to get hold of something that will take us both out? I'm going back +there, of course. Which shall we do, Miss Jones?"</p> + +<p>"Walk, I think. It's only about five miles, and I doubt if you could get +anything tonight to go out all the way to Plessing."</p> + +<p>"I think we can go across the fields, if you don't mind rough walking. +It saves nearly a mile, and the only advantage of keeping to the road +would be the chance of meeting something, which I think most unlikely. +Miss Jones, you're splendid. Do you mind very much?"</p> + +<p>"Not now that I know Lady Vivian really wants me," said Grace shyly.</p> + +<p>Trevellyan unhooked one of the lamps.</p> + +<p>"Shall I carry the other one?"</p> + +<p>"It will make your hands very cold, and I think one will be enough. Have +you anything that you must take?"</p> + +<p>"My bag; it isn't heavy."</p> + +<p>"Right. Then give it to me, and you take the lamp, if you will." Grace +obeyed without any of the protestations which might have appeared +suitable, and they started very cautiously down the road.</p> + +<p>"Keep to the side," said Trevellyan; "it's not very bad there. I'm +afraid you'll never get warm at this rate, but a broken leg would be +awkward."</p> + +<p>"Tell me what happened at Plessing."</p> + +<p>He told her that Sir Piers had suddenly had a second stroke that +afternoon, and was again lying unconscious. Lady Vivian had come down +and spoken with Trevellyan for a few minutes, and assured him that the +trained nurse would not allow her to relinquish hope.</p> + +<p>"But it all depends upon what one means by hope," said Trevellyan. "One +can hardly bear to think of his lying there day after day, unable to +understand or to make himself understood—and as for <i>her</i>—"</p> + +<p>"She is very brave," said Grace.</p> + +<p>There was a silence, and each was thinking of Joanna.</p> + +<p>Presently Trevellyan spoke again.</p> + +<p>"We shall turn off in a minute and take the short cut. Are you very +cold?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty cold, but I'm glad I had dinner before starting. Did you?"</p> + +<p>"No, worse luck! I started from Plessing at half-past eight, and the +servants were in such a fuss. I'm fearfully hungry," said Trevellyan +candidly.</p> + +<p>"Well, wait a minute."</p> + +<p>Grace stood still and put the lamp on the ground while she felt in her +coat-pocket.</p> + +<p>"I thought so. I've a packet of chocolate. Will you take it?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Trevellyan seriously; "it's very kind of you. Let's +both have some."</p> + +<p>Grace divided the little packet scrupulously, and they stood and ate it +with their backs to the hedge, the bag and the lamp on the ground in +front of them.</p> + +<p>"Christmas Eve!" said Grace. "Isn't it extraordinary?"</p> + +<p>"Where were you last Christmas?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"In the hospital, near my home. We were decorating the wards for +Christmas, and all stayed there very late. There was a convoy in, too, I +remember; the nurses stayed on long after we'd all gone home. I was only +a clerk, you know."</p> + +<p>"I remember. You told me that when you—on the night of the air-raid," +said the tactful Trevellyan, with a very evident recollection of the +unfortunate disability which debarred Miss Jones from the nursing +profession.</p> + +<p>Grace laughed.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. It is so idiotic and provoking, and, as a matter of absolute +fact, it was because I always got ill at anything of that sort that they +couldn't let me go on at the hospital any more—my father and +stepmother, I mean."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know you had a stepmother."</p> + +<p>"I've had her about four years," Grace informed him.</p> + +<p>"Do you like her?" Trevellyan asked bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Very much indeed. She's only a few years older than I am, and she lets +me call her Marjory. She's so nice and pretty and merry."</p> + +<p>It was evident that Miss Jones was not a person to make capital out of +circumstances.</p> + +<p>When they started again, Trevellyan said gently: "You'd better take my +arm, if you will. It's heavy going along this field."</p> + +<p>It was, and an incessant sound of splashing told Grace that she was +almost in the ditch.</p> + +<p>"I think I can manage," she said breathlessly. "I'm afraid of the light +going out, and it's easier to hold in both hands."</p> + +<p>Trevellyan said nothing, but presently Grace felt him take hold of the +lamp.</p> + +<p>"You <i>must</i> let me," he said quietly. "You'll want all your strength, +for we're going uphill now, and the ground's very rough."</p> + +<p>They trudged up a steep incline, Grace with both cold hands deep in her +pockets and her head bent against the wet driving mist that seemed to +encompass them. Her feet were like ice, and she had long since given up +trying to avoid the puddles and small snowy patches that lay so +plentifully on the way. Twice she stumbled heavily.</p> + +<p>"We're just at the top," said Trevellyan encouragingly. "You're +perfectly splendid, Miss Jones, and I feel such a brute for not taking +better care of you. Cousin Joanna will be very much distressed; but, you +see, I know she wants you."</p> + +<p>"I'm very glad," said Grace simply. "I never admired any one so much as +I do her."</p> + +<p>"Nor I. She's been so ripping to me always. Even when I was a big clumsy +schoolboy, with nowhere to go to for the holidays, she'd have me out to +Plessing, and make me feel that she cared about having me there. She +wrote to me all the time I was in India—I don't think she ever missed a +mail—and all the time I was in Flanders last year. Some day," said +Johnnie, rather shyly, "I'd like to show you her letters to me. No one +has ever seen them. But I've always felt that you knew what she really +is—more than other people do."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Grace.</p> + +<p>John seemed satisfied with something in the tone of the brief reply, and +they went on in silence till he raised the flickering lamp.</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment. There ought to be a fence here, and it may be barbed +wire. Take care."</p> + +<p>Grace was thankful to stand still, her aching legs still trembling +beneath her from the ascent. John held up the lamp and made a cautious +examination.</p> + +<p>"There ought to be an opening—here we are."</p> + +<p>He waved the lamp in triumph; the light gave a final flicker and +expired.</p> + +<p>There was a dead silence from both, Grace speechless from dismay and +fatigue, and Trevellyan from his inability to express his feelings in +the normal manner in the presence of Miss Jones.</p> + +<p>"Have you any matches?" she asked at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'm sorrier than I can say, but I'm very much afraid that the +wretched thing has given out. Why on earth the doctor can't get proper +electric lamps for his rotten car—"</p> + +<p>John fumbled despairingly amongst his matches, made various unsuccessful +attempts, and at last apologized again to Grace, and said that it never +rained but it poured. They must go on in the dark.</p> + +<p>"Very well. Only let's avoid the barbed wire."</p> + +<p>"Miss Jones, I <i>can't</i> tell you what I think of you. Any one else would +be perfectly frantic."</p> + +<p>"But I'm never frantic," said Grace, rather regretfully. "I often wish I +was like the people in books who feel things so desperately. Maggie +Tulliver, for instance. It's so uninteresting always to be quite calm."</p> + +<p>"Always?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Grace, "practically always."</p> + +<p>"It's an invaluable quality just at present, but perhaps one of these +days—"</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry, but I think my skirt has caught in the barbed wire."</p> + +<p>Trevellyan released her skirt in silence.</p> + +<p>"Now, then, if we get through the gate here, the next field takes us on +to the road again, and with any luck they'll have got to Plessing and +sent something back to pick us up."</p> + +<p>Trevellyan, who knew his ground and appeared able to see in the dark, +pushed at the creaking wooden gate, and Grace passed through it, feeling +her feet sink into an icy bog of mud and water.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I can't see much. You see, I don't know the way at all."</p> + +<p>"I know; it makes all the difference. Look here, will you let me take +your hand? I know every inch of the way."</p> + +<p>Grace put out her small gloved hand and said very sedately: "Thank you; +I think that will be the best way."</p> + +<p>They went on steadily after that, speaking very little, and Grace +stumbling from time to time. Once John asked her: "Are you very tired? +This is rotten for you."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind," said Grace shyly.</p> + +<p>After a long pause, Trevellyan said cryptically: "Neither do I."</p> + +<p>On this assurance they reached the high road, and Grace said gently, +withdrawing her hand: "I can manage now, thank you."</p> + +<p>"It <i>can't</i> be long now before something meets us. I don't know what +they can send; but if it's only a farm cart, it will be better than +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Luckily I'm a very good walker. I don't think that poor Miss Vivian +could ever have got out to Plessing unless we'd met you with that +motor-bicycle. She dislikes walking, and is not used to it."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't have had this walk with Char," said Trevellyan fervently, +"for any money you could offer me. She's a splendid companion, of +course, on her own ground, but for this sort of thing—it's only two +people in a million, Miss Jones, who could do it without hating one +another for ever afterwards."</p> + +<p>"We must be very remarkable, then, for I don't think it's going to have +that effect," said Grace, laughing.</p> + +<p>"As far as I'm concerned," said Trevellyan slowly, "it's exactly the +opposite. You won't want me to tell you about it now, but perhaps some +day soon you'll let me—Grace."</p> + +<p>Miss Jones walked along the muddy, slushy edge of the road with her mind +in a tumult. She felt quite unable to make any reply. But Captain +Trevellyan, always matter-of-fact, did not appear to expect one. He +presently remarked that it was getting colder again. Was Miss Jones very +wet?</p> + +<p>"Rather wet, but the worst half must be over by now. I wonder what news +we shall find when we arrive. Do you know, I can't help being selfishly +thankful to be going there. It's been so hard never hearing anything +about her, and knowing all the time that she was in such anxiety."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't Char tell you?"</p> + +<p>"No; but I don't think I asked her. She likes us to be official, you +know."</p> + +<p>"I never heard such inhuman nonsense in my life!" exclaimed Trevellyan +in tones of most unwonted violence.</p> + +<p>They both laughed, and the next minute Grace said, "Listen!"</p> + +<p>They both heard wheels.</p> + +<p>"It's the dog-cart. I thought so. It was the only thing left, and I +suppose they've got hold of a boy to drive it. Thank goodness! Miss +Jones," said Trevellyan for the fourth time, "I can't tell you what I +think of you; you've been simply wonderful."</p> + +<p>"Don't! Of course I haven't."</p> + +<p>Grace's voice was more agitated than accorded with her previous +declaration of imperturbability, and something in the few shaky words +caused John to put out his hand and grasp hers for a moment, while he +hailed the cart.</p> + +<p>"Here we are! Did Miss Vivian send you?"</p> + +<p>"Her ladyship, sir. Couldn't come any faster, sir; the roads are so +bad."</p> + +<p>"They are. How is Sir Piers?"</p> + +<p>"The same, sir—still unconscious. Dr. Prince don't anticipate no +immediate change, sir, but he's staying the night."</p> + +<p>"Good! He's telephoned to Questerham, I suppose. Now, Miss Jones, let me +help you. Boy, you'd better get on to the back seat; your inches are +better suited to it than mine," said John firmly. He put the rug round +Grace, and she sank thankfully on to the small seat of the dog-cart.</p> + +<p>They hardly spoke while he drove cautiously along the remaining mile of +high road and up the long avenue to Plessing.</p> + +<p>Even when John helped her down at the hall door he only said: "I shall +see you tomorrow. I shall never forget this Christmas Eve."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," said Grace.</p> + +<p>In the hall Miss Bruce greeted them with subdued exclamations.</p> + +<p>"<i>How</i> tired you must be, and half frozen! Sir Piers is just the same; +the doctor is still upstairs. He and Charmian got here two hours ago or +more, and told us what had happened. There wasn't anything to send for +you but the little cart. Poor dear Charmian! such a home-coming for her! +She's wonderful, of course—never given way for an instant."</p> + +<p>"Where is she?"</p> + +<p>"Upstairs. I've sent to tell her and Lady Vivian that you've arrived at +last."</p> + +<p>"And, Miss Bruce, we <i>should</i> like some food if it can be managed +without too much trouble."</p> + +<p>"Of course, of course. Miss Jones, your room is ready. Wouldn't you like +to change your wet shoes at once?"</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce spoke with an odd mixture of doubt and compassion, as she +looked at Grace warming her frozen hands at the hall fire. It was +evident that she did not feel certain whether Miss Jones was to be +regarded as a friend of Lady Vivian's, whom Captain Trevellyan had +judged necessary to bring to Plessing at all costs, for Joanna's sake, +or as Char's junior secretary, thrusting herself upon her chief's family +at a particularly inopportune moment. But the question was solved a few +instants later, when Joanna Vivian herself, coming downstairs in her +black tea-gown, exclaimed softly: "You've brought her, Johnnie! Well +done! No; there's no change yet. I want you to see Dr. Prince." Then she +took Grace's hands in hers and said: "Thank you, my dear, for coming to +me."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h3> + + +<p>"Well, I couldn't have believed it—Christmas morning and all!"</p> + +<p>"What, Mrs. Bullivant?"</p> + +<p>"This letter from the office, dear."</p> + +<p>Little Mrs. Bullivant's face was scarlet, and her voice shaking.</p> + +<p>"But what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian has dismissed me. This was evidently written two days ago, +and has been delayed in the post. She simply says that she has come to +the conclusion that I find the Hostel rather too much for me and is +making other arrangements at the New Year. Oh, my dear!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bullivant dissolved into tears, and Tony, aghast, picked up the +small trebly-folded sheet of crested paper that had fallen from its +square envelope.</p> + +<p>"Written by herself, too, not typed! Oh, I <i>am</i> sorry! But doesn't she +give any reason?"</p> + +<p>"Not any. But I suppose she wasn't comfortable when she stayed here last +month. She said one or two little things at the time—the hot water, you +know, and the gas giving such a poor light, and then the servants. But I +never knew she was thinking of this."</p> + +<p>"I must say, I think she might have given you a reason, or asked you to +go and see her at the office," said Tony, her allegiance to Miss Vivian +shaken at the sight of the little Superintendent in tears.</p> + +<p>Every one liked Mrs. Bullivant at the Hostel, and when Tony told the +others that she was to be dismissed there was a general outcry.</p> + +<p>"But why? What a shame!"</p> + +<p>"She always works so hard, and she's so nice to every one. It's too bad +of Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"It does seem very unlike her to be so inconsiderate!" Mrs. Potter +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"I can't believe there isn't some satisfactory explanation. It's too +unlike Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege was caustically reminded by Miss Marsh that no explanation +could really be satisfactory from the point of view of Mrs. Bullivant.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't we all send round a petition, and sign it? Do let's. We can +put it on her table for when she gets back tomorrow or next day."</p> + +<p>Miss Plumtree's suggestion was acclaimed, and she and Miss Marsh spent +most of the morning in composing a petition that should combine +sufficiently official wording with appealing arguments in Mrs. +Bullivant's favour.</p> + +<p>"Shall we wait till Gracie gets back before fastening it up, so as to +make her sign it too?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" said Miss Delmege sharply. "Several of the others are away, too, +for the week-end, and we can't wait for every one to get back."</p> + +<p>"Well," provokingly said Miss Marsh, "as she's Miss Vivian's own +secretary, one naturally looks upon her as being important. Besides, +look at the way they've had her out to stay; she's a sort of special +person, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>Every one knew that Miss Marsh was "getting a rise out of Delmege," +always a favourite form of amusement, and there was a general giggle +when Miss Delmege said in a very aloof manner: "If you ask me, I think +Miss Vivian thinks it just as strange as any one else that Gracie should +be asked out there now, with Sir Piers still so ill. But Lady Vivian is +quite well known to be a most eccentric person."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't be a bit surprised if Miss Vivian's Staff Officer cousin +had got her asked. I think he admires Gracie."</p> + +<p>"Go on, Marshie! Why, he's never seen anything of her, has he?—except, +perhaps, at the Canteen."</p> + +<p>"There was that night, you know," Miss Marsh reminded them.</p> + +<p>"What night?"</p> + +<p>"Why, when there was the air-raid, and he brought her back here +afterwards. Don't you remember?"</p> + +<p>"Well!" Miss Delmege exclaimed, "I must say that I should have +thought—"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I've read somewhere that those four words '<i>I should have +thought</i>' are responsible for more quarrels than any others in the +language."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege disregarded Tony and her literary allusions.</p> + +<p>"I should have thought that after the strange way Grace Jones behaved +that night, the less said about it the better. It's not the kind of +thing one cares to dwell upon."</p> + +<p>"I must say," Miss Henderson agreed, "that it would have been more +likely to put him off than to make him admire her. At least, so far as +my experience of human nature goes."</p> + +<p>"Well, just sign this, will you, girls?"</p> + +<p>They all hung over Miss Plumtree's shoulder, and read the petition.</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian's secretary put her signature down first on the list, as by +rights, and decorated her "Vera M. Delmege" with an elegant flourish.</p> + +<p>"I must say I do like what I call a characteristic signature," she +remarked, hastening back to appropriate the wicker arm-chair nearest the +fire.</p> + +<p>The others cowered round, in twos and threes, gazing disconsolately at +the driving hail and stormy clouds of the grey world outside.</p> + +<p>"Rather a wretched Christmas, isn't it? I do think we might have had a +week's leave, really," said Miss Henderson, shivering.</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian isn't taking that herself," Miss Delmege at once reminded +her. "And those who live near enough have been given the week-end, after +all."</p> + +<p>"I might just have managed it if I hadn't been on telephone duty. But +she wouldn't let me change with any one else. I suppose I must go over +there now and release Miss Cox," said Tony, rising reluctantly to her +feet.</p> + +<p>"Well, take the petition, dear, and leave it on Miss Vivian's table, +will you? Then she'll find it when she comes. I dare say she'll be in +this afternoon. Poor Mrs. Bullivant!"</p> + +<p>They talked of Mrs. Bullivant in a subdued way at intervals during the +day. The little Superintendent remained in her own room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, isn't it wretched?" groaned Miss Marsh for the hundredth time. "I +declare I'd welcome a troop-train; it would give us something to do, and +make a break."</p> + +<p>But Miss Anthony returned from the office at four o'clock with an awed +face and a piece of news.</p> + +<p>"Girls, what <i>do</i> you think? It's too awful—poor Miss Vivian's father +is dead. He died this morning, after a second stroke yesterday. Isn't it +dreadful?"</p> + +<p>Every one exclaimed, and echoed Miss Anthony's "dreadful!" with entire +sincerity, although the announcement of Sir Piers Vivian's death had +given them food for thought and conversation for the rest of the +evening.</p> + +<p>"How did you hear, Tony?"</p> + +<p>"Gracie Jones telephoned. My dears, they've had every sort of adventure. +Dr. Prince's car broke down last night, or something, and a messenger +met them from Plessing to say Sir Piers had had another stroke, and Miss +Vivian and the doctor were to come at once. And he never recovered +consciousness, and died this morning early. Isn't it dreadful?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, poor Miss Vivian! Did Gracie say anything about her?"</p> + +<p>"Only that she was being very brave. Of course, that's just what she +would be."</p> + +<p>"I suppose Gracie's coming back here tonight? Rather awful for her, poor +girl, to be there just now."</p> + +<p>"That's the extraordinary thing," said Tony with great animation. "She's +actually been asked to stay on."</p> + +<p>"She hasn't!"</p> + +<p>"She has, really. I asked her what she was doing, and she said nothing +much, but that Lady Vivian wanted her to stay."</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose she thinks she'll be of some use to Miss Vivian, but it +seems rather queer, in a way, doesn't it? I mean her not knowing them, +except officially, so to speak."</p> + +<p>"Has any one told Mrs. Bullivant?" Miss Delmege inquired.</p> + +<p>But official intimation came to Mrs. Bullivant. A car stopped outside +the door, and Dr. Prince, looking tired and haggard, asked to speak to +her. He brought a note from Miss Jones, and offered to take a small +suit-case out to Plessing for her, if Mrs. Bullivant would get her +things together.</p> + +<p>"But, doctor, she isn't going to stay there <i>now</i>, surely?"</p> + +<p>"She'll stay there just exactly as long as I can persuade her to," said +the doctor grimly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bullivant looked thoroughly bewildered, but she gazed at the +doctor's tired face, and said gently: "Come into the sitting-room while +I get her things packed. There's a nice fire, and the girls have got tea +in there. Do come in."</p> + +<p>"Well," the doctor yielded.</p> + +<p>His own home was two miles out of Questerham, and his wife would not be +best pleased at his having spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning +away, and might say that he must not return to Plessing that night. The +doctor fully intended to do so, but he felt far too weary for argument.</p> + +<p>The sitting-room fire was blazing, and the Hostel community greeted him +eagerly, and begged him to take the strongest arm-chair. They were glad +of a guest on Christmas Day, and they wanted to hear news of Plessing.</p> + +<p>Tony brought him a cup of tea, and Miss Plumtree shyly offered him +buttered toast.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, this is very good of you all. They're expecting me up at my +Hospital, I believe, and I shall have to look in there later, I suppose, +but I somehow didn't feel in tune for the festivities just at the +moment. It's a sad business at Plessing, though one knew it had to +come."</p> + +<p>"How is Miss Vivian?"</p> + +<p>"Only saw her for a moment," said the doctor briefly. "She arrived in +time to see him, poor girl, but he never recovered consciousness. It's a +melancholy thought for her that she wouldn't do as the poor old man +begged her during the last few weeks he had to live. It wouldn't have +cost her so very much to give up her position here, and it wouldn't have +been for long, after all."</p> + +<p>"But did Sir Piers want her to?" asked Tony, round-eyed.</p> + +<p>"It made him unhappy, you see," the doctor said, almost as though +apologizing for a weakness which he felt himself to share. "His +generation and mine, you know, didn't look upon these things in the same +light, and though he was proud of her war-work at first, later on, when +his mind became clouded, he couldn't understand her always being away, +and it made him unhappy. Lady Vivian tried to explain it to him as far +as possible, but he couldn't understand. He didn't realize all she was +doing, and he wanted her to stay at home, especially after he got ill. I +fancy myself that he knew pretty well how things were—he didn't expect +to get well."</p> + +<p>"But Miss Vivian didn't know; she couldn't have known," said Miss +Henderson quickly.</p> + +<p>The doctor shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"We've heard a lot about 'hospital experience' and the rest of it," he +said curtly. "It doesn't take much science to know that an old man of +seventy odd who has had a stroke stands a very good chance of having +another one sooner or later—and probably sooner. <i>I</i> don't know why she +couldn't have given in to him and made his last months on earth peaceful +ones. It would have spared poor Lady Vivian something, too."</p> + +<p>"But I thought that Lady Vivian did all the nursing herself?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort!" declared the doctor vehemently. "She followed my +orders and had a trained nurse, like a sensible woman. But she was with +him herself whenever he wanted her, which was practically all day and +half the night, and for ever having to try and explain to him, poor +thing, why Miss Charmian was away. She's been wonderfully brave all +along, but it isn't very difficult to understand why she feels bitter +about it all now. In all the years I've known them both," said the +doctor emotionally, "she's never had one thought apart from him. She was +a young woman of about five-and-twenty, I suppose, when she first came +to Plessing, and he was twenty years her senior, and always fussing +about her, though God forgive me for saying so now. She was as fine a +horsewoman as ever I saw, a perfect figure and a beautiful seat, but she +gave up hunting because it made him nervous about her. She buried +herself down here, and was just as gay as a lark, because she knew it +was pleasing him that they should live at Plessing and only go up to +town once in a blue moon. I don't believe she's ever had a thought +beyond making him happy and keeping worry away from him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, poor Lady Vivian!" cried Miss Plumtree. "What will she do now?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, indeed. It's simply the destruction of her whole world. +But she's most wonderfully plucky, and I don't believe it's in her to +give way. Miss Jones is doing more for her than any one just now. They +understand one another very well, and the mere fact of having some one +to talk to who isn't one of the family is a great help. Steadies +everybody, you know. That nice lad, Captain Trevellyan, will be there a +good deal, but he tells me that he has to go before his Board on +Tuesday, and that will mean France again to a certainty. Poor Lady +Vivian was dreading that—but more for Sir Piers's sake than for her +own. She didn't want to have to tell him the boy had gone back to fight. +Just the same with everything; she looked at it all from one angle, how +it was going to affect <i>him</i>. That's why I can't help hoping that after +a time she'll take up things from another point of view, so to speak—a +less personal one. She's so full of energy, and there's so much to be +done now."</p> + +<p>"Lady Vivian came in once or twice to the Canteen, before Sir Piers got +ill, and she said she liked the work there. Perhaps she'll take up some +war-work later on," suggested Mrs. Potter.</p> + +<p>"I hope so—I hope so very much. Miss Jones is inclined to think so, I +fancy."</p> + +<p>"Miss Vivian herself would be the best person to provide her mother with +war-work, surely," said Miss Delmege between closely-folded lips.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, I don't know that one could altogether expect that. You +see, when all's said and done, her war-work was a source of great +distress and vexation to Sir Piers, and Lady Vivian can't quite forget +that. But perhaps," said the doctor, looking rather anxiously at the +circle of absorbed faces in the firelight, "I'm an old gossip to be +talking so freely. But the Vivians of Plessing—well, it's rather like +the Royal Family to us ordinary folk, isn't it? That's what I always +feel. And I know that you'll want me to tell Miss Vivian how much you +all feel for her."</p> + +<p>But it was only Miss Delmege who said rather elaborately: "If you will, +do, please, Dr. Prince."</p> + +<p>The others mostly looked concerned and bewildered, and Miss Plumtree +exclaimed with soft abruptness: "Oh, but it's Lady Vivian—after what +you've told us. It's so dreadful to think of! What a good thing she +likes Gracie Jones so much! I'm glad she's got her out there."</p> + +<p>"So am I," said the doctor heartily.</p> + +<p>"I've got her things here," Mrs. Bullivant said in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"I'll take them when I go out after dinner. I promised Miss Jones to +come back and see if Lady Vivian is all right, and, to tell you the +truth, I doubt if I could keep away. I've been there so much just +lately, and then last night—"</p> + +<p>"Was she with him when he died?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. So was Miss Vivian. It's overset her altogether, poor thing, I +believe; but I haven't seen her since early this morning. That little +companion, Miss Bruce, is with her all the time. Well, poor child, one's +very sorry for her, though she made a great mistake when she took her +own way in spite of all their pleading, and I'm afraid she'll find it +hard to forgive herself now."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean," said little Miss Anthony, who looked rather dazed, "that +when she came back to the office after she'd had influenza, and when +he'd had the first stroke, that Miss Vivian <i>knew</i> her father and mother +wanted her to stay at home?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Miss Delmege, very much flushed, and her voice pitched +higher than usual, "it was just what she's always said herself. Miss +Vivian puts the work before everything."</p> + +<p>"I don't know how to believe it," Mrs. Potter said.</p> + +<p>The doctor misunderstood her.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it was that. She's done very fine work, and never spared +herself any more than she's spared others. And maybe there was something +in being boss of the whole show, and in hearing you all say how +wonderful she was—human nature's a poor thing, after all."</p> + +<p>The doctor shook his head and went out again to his little car.</p> + +<p>In the sitting-room the members of Miss Vivian's staff looked at one +another.</p> + +<p>"Girls," said Miss Marsh slowly, "do you remember Gracie's once saying, +ages ago, when she first came, that she wondered if Miss Vivian would do +as much work if she were on a desert island? Well, after what Dr. Prince +has been telling us, I'm rather inclined to think she was right. Miss +Vivian can't be as wonderful as she wants us to think she is."</p> + +<p>"It would be <i>too</i> heartless. I can't believe it of her," said Mrs. +Potter again, but she spoke very doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"She must have thought that she owed her first duty to the work, and not +to her own home. But I'm sorry for her now."</p> + +<p>"So am I. She'll make it up to her mother by staying with her now, I +suppose."</p> + +<p>"If Lady Vivian wants her. But <i>I</i> should imagine she'd hate the sight +of her, almost."</p> + +<p>"Tony!"</p> + +<p>"Well," Miss Anthony asseverated, almost in tears, "I mean it. I think +it's the most dreadful thing I've ever heard of, and the most unkind. +And to think how we've all been admiring her for coming to live here, +and for going on with the work in spite of being anxious and unhappy +about her father! Why, she can't have cared a bit!"</p> + +<p>"But she <i>was</i> splendid, in a sort of way," Miss Henderson said, +bewildered. "Look how she's worked, and never spared herself, or given +herself any rest, not even proper times off for meals. She can't have +liked all that."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said Miss Marsh grimly, "that she liked thinking how +splendid she was being, and how splendid everybody thought her. It would +have been much duller for her to stay at home and do nothing, just +because her father asked her to."</p> + +<p>There was silence. To hear Miss Vivian reduced by criticism and analysis +to the level of an ordinary human being seemed to revolutionize the +whole mental outlook of the Hostel.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Bullivant came into the sitting-room, she looked strangely at +the disturbed faces. "Dr. Prince seems to have upset you all," she said +at last.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear what he was saying about Miss Vivian, though?"</p> + +<p>"Some of it. He asked me in the hall just now whether he'd been +indiscreet. I had to say that I was afraid we'd none of us quite +realized before how very much her personal influence had been counting +with us in the work."</p> + +<p>"That's quite true," said Tony dejectedly, "and I don't believe I shall +ever feel the same again. Why should we all work ourselves to death for +any one like that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear," said the Superintendent, sinking into a chair, "I'm +afraid that's just the weak point in women's work. So much of it is done +from the <i>personal</i> point of view. We can't keep personalities out of +it."</p> + +<p>"If you ask me, that's just what Miss Vivian has been doing. I mean, +bringing her own powers of personal fascination to bear all the time."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bullivant sighed.</p> + +<p>"It's the work one ought to think of, not the individual. Anyway, <i>my</i> +work here is over, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"There you are!" cried Miss Plumtree. "You have to leave work you care +about, just because she was uncomfortable at this Hostel. Talk about +personal points-of-view!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I've been personal long enough," declared Tony. "I shall chuck +the office and go to munitions. <i>They're</i> impersonal enough!"</p> + +<p>She let the door bang behind her.</p> + +<p>"Poor old Tony! She'll go to the other extreme now, and think everything +Miss Vivian does is hopeless. I must say, it's a bit of a +disillusionment."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege stood up, gulped two or three times, and at last said, +rapidly and nervously: "I don't at all agree with you. We've no business +to sit in judgment on her like this, and I for one shall always believe +there's some satisfactory explanation to the whole thing. I'm not saying +it in the least because it's Miss Vivian, but <i>quite</i> impartially."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Miss Marsh, under her breath.</p> + +<p>"Look at the way she works and all—it <i>is</i> perfectly wonderful; and Dr. +Prince probably doesn't really know anything about what Sir Piers +wanted. He's always been more or less on the defensive with Miss Vivian, +just because she had to get his Hospital under proper control. It's all +prejudice and disloyalty. And all I can say is, that as long as there's +work to be done for Miss Vivian, I'm ready to do it, single-handed if +necessary, if all the rest of you choose to desert her, and I shouldn't +have the least hesitation in repeating all I've said to her face."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege's peroration left her rather shrill-voiced and breathless, +but her pose on the hearth-rug, chin uplifted and one slim foot slightly +thrust forward, was heroic in the extreme.</p> + +<p>No one believed for a moment in her defiant assertion that she was +prepared to launch her rhetorical declaration at Miss Vivian in person; +but it was left to her old enemy, Miss Marsh, to remark with an +unpleasant matter-of-factness: "There's no need to get so excited, +Delmege. There'll be no call for you to do the work single-handed, +either. I should be sorry for Miss Vivian if you tried it on, in fact. +We're all fairly patriotic, I hope, whatever we may think of Miss +Vivian, and, as Mrs. Bullivant says, doing the work is the point, not +the person we're working for."</p> + +<p>"That's right," agreed Miss Henderson. "It's for the war, after all."</p> + +<p>"Otherwise," said Miss Marsh, with an icy look at Miss Delmege, "I'm +bound to say that after what we've just heard of Miss Vivian I should be +very much inclined to chuck working for her straight away."</p> + +<p>"Don't discuss it any more, girls. It won't do any good," Mrs. Bullivant +declared. "You must just try and think more of the work and less of Miss +Vivian. Now, I've got a treat for your supper, as it's Christmas night, +and I must go and see after it. Do, some one, go and get Tony downstairs +again. She can't really have meant to go to bed at this hour. She was +just upset, poor child, but she'll feel better when the lamp is lit and +it's all looking homely and bright."</p> + +<p>The Superintendent hurried away.</p> + +<p>"Isn't she ripping?" asked Miss Henderson. "Come on, Greengage, and +let's fish out Tony."</p> + +<p>"Yes, do let's try and all cheer up," begged Mrs. Potter. "It <i>has</i> been +a depressing Christmas Day. How would it be to <i>change</i> for supper? It +would please Mrs. Bullivant."</p> + +<p>"All right, let's."</p> + +<p>The girls hurried upstairs to hunt for clean blouses and small pieces of +jewellery, and Miss Delmege was left alone, still standing in her +attitude of defiance before the sitting-room fire.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h3> + + +<p>"Is there any more apple-pudding?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my lady."</p> + +<p>"Then I will have some," said Lady Vivian, not at all unaware of the +pained expression which Miss Bruce had unconsciously assumed. The +unquenchable laugh still danced in her deeply-circled blue eyes as she +gazed across the luncheon-table at Grace.</p> + +<p>"Do have some more pudding, Grace. I know you never get enough to eat at +your Hostel."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce put down her fork with a look of resignation. The excellent +appetite displayed by Lady Vivian seemed to her extraordinary enough on +the part of one widowed only a week ago, but that of the still-visiting +Miss Jones amounted to a scandal.</p> + +<p>In Miss Bruce's opinion, Miss Jones should have removed herself from +Plessing a week ago, in spite of the strong predilection evinced by Lady +Vivian for her society. It was not decent, Miss Bruce thought, to shun +one's own daughter and take so many and such lengthy walks in company of +a comparative stranger of less than half one's own age.</p> + +<p>"Un-natural, I call it," said Miss Bruce, shaking her head.</p> + +<p>Char shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"What does it matter? I'm glad she should take an interest in any one or +anything, though I can't understand such a friendship for that trivial +little girl myself. But one thing is certain enough: I shall have to ask +her to resign. It would be quite impossible, since my mother has chosen +to treat her as one of the family, to keep her on at the office when I +go back there. Though perhaps I ought to say—if I go back there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear Charmian, why? Surely there can be no reason now—less than +ever, I mean to say—why you should not take up that splendid work at +the Supply Depôt again. Why, the whole thing hinges on you."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Char dejectedly. "But there's my mother to consider. I +really don't see how I'm to leave her all alone here, and I don't know +if she'll care to come into Questerham with me."</p> + +<p>Char had hardly seen her mother since Sir Piers's funeral, three days +ago. Lady Vivian had refused to display any form of prostration, had +discussed every necessary item of business with John Trevellyan and Dr. +Prince, and when not engaged in answering innumerable letters and +telegrams of condolence, had taken Grace Jones for long walks with her +across the snowy fields.</p> + +<p>"But," Char said to Miss Bruce, "we shall have to discuss business +sooner or later. For all I know, we may have to leave Plessing. It was +to be my mother's for her life, I believe, but she may choose to let +Uncle Charles come into it at once. He has a large family of children, +after all. His being in Salonika now makes it all so much more +complicated."</p> + +<p>"I dare say there will be no change just at present. Everything will be +so unsettled until this dreadful war is over," Miss Bruce soothed her +vaguely.</p> + +<p>But she, too, thought that it would be necessary for Lady Vivian soon to +give her daughter some outline of her future plans.</p> + +<p>On New Year's Day, rising from the helping of apple-pudding which she +had left unfinished as a protest, Miss Bruce after lunch said firmly to +Lady Vivian: "You will want to talk to Charmian this afternoon, I feel +sure. There is a fire in the library, so perhaps—"</p> + +<p>She looked meaningly at Miss Jones, who, instead of making at least a +pretence of at once following her out of the room, gazed imperturbably +at Lady Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Char," inquired Joanna mildly, "do you want to talk to me?"</p> + +<p>"We'd better come to an understanding, hadn't we, mother? You see, I +haven't the vaguest idea of your plans."</p> + +<p>"But why should you have any, my dear? They won't interfere with your +work at Questerham. If you want to know about Plessing, I can tell you +in two words. Your Uncle Charles doesn't want any change made until +after the war, so that I can either let it or go on living in it, as I +please."</p> + +<p>Decorum took Miss Bruce as far as the door of the dining-room, but was +not strong enough to put her outside it while Grace Jones still +remained, with no apparent consciousness of indiscretion, sitting +unmoved in her place, and in full hearing of this discussion, which +every tradition would restrict to a family one.</p> + +<p>Even Char said: "Hadn't we better come to the library?"</p> + +<p>Joanna rose.</p> + +<p>"I'm going there now, for the very good reason that Lesbia Willoughby is +to be shown in there in half an hour's time. I shall have to see her +some time, and I may as well get it over."</p> + +<p>"Mother, must you? Why not say that you're not seeing any one?"</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Joanna dryly, "I've already answered two telegrams and +three letters and several telephone messages in which she offered to +come to me, and I think that nothing but word of mouth will have any +effect upon her. But I'll talk to you this evening, if there's anything +you want to know. John is dining here to tell us the result of his +Medical Board."</p> + +<p>Joanna left the room, with her decisive, unhurried step, and Char, +ignoring Grace, said to Miss Bruce: "I have a lot of letters, sent on +from the office. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to give me a little help +this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Charmian."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce was gratified; but when Char had walked away without so much +as glancing at Grace, she could not help saying to her, with a sort of +flustered kindness: "I hope you'll find some way of amusing yourself, +Miss Jones."</p> + +<p>She had loyally adopted Char's prejudice, but was too kind-hearted not +to try furtively to make up for it.</p> + +<p>Miss Jones, however, was not destined to spend a solitary afternoon. +Mrs. Willoughby was driven to Plessing by Captain Trevellyan in his car; +and although Miss Bruce, casting sidelong glances from the window of +Char's boudoir, where she was busily taking notes from her dictation, +distinctly saw him enter the house, she felt certain that he proceeded +no further than the hall, where Grace sat reading by the fire.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby went at once to the library, where she enfolded the +resigned Joanna in a prolonged embrace.</p> + +<p>"My poor, poor dear! Words can <i>never</i> tell you how I've felt for +you—how much I've longed to be with you!"</p> + +<p>But despite the inadequacy of words, Mrs. Willoughby had a shrill +torrent of them at her command, with which she deluged Lady Vivian for +some time.</p> + +<p>"Poor Lesbia!" Lady Vivian remarked afterwards to Grace; "she enjoyed +herself so much that I really couldn't grudge it to her!"</p> + +<p>"He was so much, much older than you, dear, that it must almost feel +like losing a father, and I know that that unfortunate girl of yours +isn't very much comfort. She must be racked with remorse. Now, do tell +me, Joanna, would you like me to take her off your hands for six months? +Let her come back to London with me next week, and get her married off +before it's too late."</p> + +<p>"Too late?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Joanna, she must be thirty, and, mark my words, whatever people +may say about there being no men left, <i>things are happening every day</i>. +Half the mothers in London are getting their girls off now, what with +officers back on leave and officers in hospitals, and those dear +Colonials. Girls who never had a look in before the war can do anything +they like in the way of nursing, or leading the blind about, or working +in some of those departments where the over-age men are. Char is just +the sort of creature to prefer a man old enough to be her grandfa—"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby's jaw dropped, and she made a repentant snatch at +Joanna's hand.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, darling! <i>How</i> idiotic to say such a thing to you, of all +people! But if you'll give me your girl, I'll undertake to find chances +for her. She'll be very good-looking when she doesn't look so sulky and +take such airs, and one could make capital of all the patriotic work +she's been doing down here. And I <i>always</i> think it's rather an asset +than otherwise to be in mourning, especially in these days. Black suits +her, too, with that sandy colouring. Does she choose her own clothes, +Joanna?"</p> + +<p>"She does, Lesbia, and has chosen them ever since she was out of long +clothes, as far as I remember. But—"</p> + +<p>"Joanna, you've been culpably weak, and of course that poor, dear old +man had simply no idea of discipline. But I can put the whole thing +right for you in six weeks, when the dear girl comes to me."</p> + +<p>"It's no use, Lesbia," said Joanna, half laughing. "It's very kind of +you, but Char wouldn't hear of it and really at thirty I can't coerce +her—besides, there's her work here."</p> + +<p>"My dear, you don't mean to say that you're going to allow that to go +on?"</p> + +<p>"To begin with, I couldn't prevent it. To go on with, I think it +perfectly right that Char should do what she can in the way of war-work. +There wouldn't be the slightest object in her giving it up now."</p> + +<p>"But Sir Piers—the memory of his wishes—<i>his</i> memory!" almost shrieked +Mrs. Willoughby.</p> + +<p>"His memory will survive it, Lesbia. Besides, as long as he was himself, +you know, he didn't mind her doing war-work. He quite understood the +necessity, and was proud of her."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear, wrong-headed creature, when she so deliberately and +heartlessly went against his wishes at the last?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Joanna placidly, "she won't be doing that now, so she can +go on working with a clear conscience."</p> + +<p>"Joanna," said Mrs. Willoughby, with an air of discovery, "upon my word, +I don't understand you."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, she devoted the major half of the afternoon to the object +of her perplexity.</p> + +<p>"One word, dearest, I must say," she declared at the end of an hour +that, to Joanna's thinking, held already more than a sufficiency of +words. "Have you considered what is happening to that delightful lad?"</p> + +<p>"Never," said Joanna unhesitatingly. "And who on earth are you talking +about, Lesbia?"</p> + +<p>"That precious creature, Johnnie. Too guileless for words, my dear; but +if there's one thing I do understand, inside out and upside down, it's +men. I should have made a <i>perfect</i> mother—young things adore me. Look +at my sweet Puffles! But I'm <i>miserable</i> about John, who really has a +perfect passion for me, dear lad. Lewis always says that all the boys of +his regiment go through it, just like measles."</p> + +<p>Joanna, who had heard this quotation before, ruthlessly disregarded it.</p> + +<p>"What is happening to John?"</p> + +<p>"My dear, do you mean to tell me you haven't seen it? But of course you +haven't, at such a time. What a brute I am! Forgive me, Joanna, but you +seem so <i>utterly</i> unlike a widow. I can hardly realize it. But, of +course, that little secretary creature—she's had her eye on him all +along."</p> + +<p>"I suppose, Lesbia, that you don't mean my poor old Bruce, who's been +with me almost ever since John was born?"</p> + +<p>Lesbia uttered a screech between laughter and reproach.</p> + +<p>"What an absurdity! Of course I mean the little Canteen girl—Jones, or +whatever her name is. My dear, will you believe me when I tell you that +when that poor innocent boy drove us up here just now and followed me +into the hall, there she was, actually waiting to pounce upon him, +sitting over the fire?"</p> + +<p>"I can believe you quite easily," said Joanna, "all but the pouncing. We +none of us knew that John was going to drive you over, so she couldn't +have been waiting."</p> + +<p>"Blind, reckless one!" cried Lesbia excitedly. "I can only tell you that +ever since those evenings at the Canteen I've seen what was coming. Do +you suppose that a young man wipes up dripping wet mugs for nothing? +Besides, Joanna, look at the air-raid! Of course, my poor dear, I know +that just at that time you were thinking of something altogether +different, but <i>I</i> was there, if you remember."</p> + +<p>"I remember hearing about it," Joanna admitted, with a vivid +recollection of Mrs. Willoughby's spirited behaviour on the occasion in +question having been described in unflattering terms by Captain +Trevellyan.</p> + +<p>"My dear, after we'd all dispersed and the whole thing was over, that +wretched girl lured him back into the basement, under pretext of +fainting or something, and pretended to have hysterics on account of the +fright she'd had. And I assure you that she hadn't seen anything at all +of the raid, because she was the very first person to make a bolt for +downstairs. In fact," said Mrs. Willoughby modestly, "really, for one +moment there might have been a panic, if I hadn't <i>dashed</i> into the +middle of the hall and called out that we were all Englishwomen and not +afraid of anything. And <i>after</i> all that, the miserable girl goes and +faints away in his hands!"</p> + +<p>"I did hear something about it—in fact, she told me herself, but it +wasn't nearly as dramatic as that, Lesbia. And his coming back and +finding her was pure chance. I think it was the last thing she wanted."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Willoughby opened her eyes to their widest extent, flung back her +head, and exclaimed emphatically: "You will have no one in this world, +Joanna, no one but yourself, to blame if the very worst happens. Mark my +words, that uninteresting little creature, without a feature to bless +herself with, is going to make poor guileless Johnnie ask her to marry +him."</p> + +<p>Joanna had some opinion of Mrs. Willoughby's shrewdness, if none of her +discretion, and this prognostication gave her a sense of comfort which +she had had no slightest expectation of deriving from the visit of +condolence. It even enabled her to thank Lesbia with sufficient +cordiality for coming, as she at last escorted her into the hall.</p> + +<p>"When we shall meet again, dearest, I am utterly unable to declare," was +a valediction which added considerably to her relief at parting. "My +Lewis won't let me stay down here any longer, now that I'm fairly fit +again. He's too sweet and self-sacrificing for words, poor lamb! 'Go +back to London where there are a thousand jobs and undertakings <i>crying +out for you</i>,' he says. I really can't bear to leave him, and the dear +regiment, and my beloved Canteen, let alone you, whom I've always looked +upon as the oldest, dearest of links with my girlhood. But, of course, +my poor committees must be getting into the most ghastly muddles, and I +know that all my officer protégés are in despair. They write me the most +heartrending letters."</p> + +<p>Lesbia shrouded herself in sables, wound a motor-veil round and round +her head, and cast a piercing glance round the hall.</p> + +<p>"What did I tell you, Joanna?"</p> + +<p>"You told me that John was here with Miss Jones, but I don't see either +of them. Is he going to drive you back?"</p> + +<p>"So he pretended, my dear, but I can't answer for what she—"</p> + +<p>Trevellyan came into the hall and greeted Lady Vivian.</p> + +<p>"I've not kept you waiting, Mrs. Willoughby, I hope? I went to bring the +car round."</p> + +<p>"Where is Grace?" asked Lady Vivian, not without malice.</p> + +<p>"Just come in and gone upstairs. We've been looking at your turnips," +said John seriously. "A very fine crop, Cousin Joanna."</p> + +<p>"We shall all be <i>living</i> on turnips quite soon," Lesbia declared with +acerbity. "Good-bye, my poor dear Joanna, and do think over all I've +been saying to you. Remember that a telegram would bring me at any hour, +for as long as you please, and I'll take your girl off your hands +whenever you like. I could make her <i>quite</i> useful in some of my +war-work."</p> + +<p>Joanna turned away from the door, thankful to reflect that neither her +daughter nor Miss Bruce had been present to hear this monstrous +assertion.</p> + +<p>As she crossed the hall, Grace came downstairs. Lady Vivian smiled at +her.</p> + +<p>"You've a knack of appearing just when I want you. I've just seen Lesbia +Willoughby off, since she mercifully refused to stay to tea. Has the +second post come?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I've got a letter that I rather wanted to talk to you about, from +Miss Marsh at the Hostel."</p> + +<p>Joanna sat down, her hands lying idly folded in her lap, while Grace +read aloud:</p> + + +<p>"DEAR GRACIE,</p> + +<p>"You'll think it extraordinary, me writing to you like this, but we +really do miss you here, especially in our room, and the whole place has +been upside down since you went away. This is because poor Mrs. +Bullivant has actually got the sack, if you can believe such a thing, +for no reason on earth that any one can discover. She had a slip from +Miss V. dated two days before Christmas—but it only reached her on +Christmas Day—telling her that other arrangements would be made at the +New Year. Of course, we're all fearfully sick, as you'll guess, and Mrs. +Bullivant has been simply howling about it ever since, though she's as +quiet as ever and never lets on. But she looks rotten, and Tony can hear +her crying in her own room at nights. You can imagine what a jolly +Christmas we've all had! The point of bothering you with all this, +however, is that perhaps you can find out what she's expected to do. +It's all very well to say, 'Clear out at the New Year,' but Miss +Vivian's being away, and in such trouble and all, makes it all jolly +awkward. We sent a petition signed by all of us to ask if Mrs. Bullivant +could be kept on; but of course there's been no answer, and she simply +doesn't in the least know what to do. Do you think it would be all right +if she just hung on till Miss V. gets back? Perhaps then she'll have +read the petition and made up her mind to let her stay on as +Superintendent. Of course, that's what we all hope, and, in fact, some +of the girls are so sick about it that I shouldn't be surprised if some +resignations were sent in. We've been hearing something that's made us +all sit up <i>re</i> Miss V. and—"</p> + +<p>"That's all about Mrs. Bullivant," said Grace hastily.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" cried Joanna vigorously; "you've stopped at the most amusing +bit. Unless it's marked private, for goodness' sake go on, and tell me +what this scandal can be. I'm quite relieved to hear that Char's past +holds <i>anything</i> exciting."</p> + +<p>Grace began to laugh.</p> + +<p>"It isn't marked private, and there really isn't much to read."</p> + +<p>"—and there'll be a good deal less said in future about how wonderful +she is. Did you know that her father and mother, after he first got ill, +simply <i>begged</i> her to stay at home, for his sake, and she absolutely +wouldn't? Work is all very well, but I must say that seems jolly +callous, and one can't help wondering whether it really was the work she +was after, or just the excitement and the honour and glory of her +position. I know you never—"</p> + +<p>Grace stopped again, and Lady Vivian said: "She knows you never liked +her—well, go on."</p> + +<p>"—and most of the rest of us are feeling rather off the 'personal +influence' stunt just at the moment. Delmege, of course, takes a high +line and goes in for loyalty, etc., etc.—in fact, won't speak to any of +us at present. But, as I say, that's her loss and not ours.</p> + +<p>"Now, dear old thing, I'm going to leave off, as you're probably sick of +my scrawl by this time, and it's high time I was off to my bed. Try and +find out if there's any chance of Mrs. B.'s being allowed to carry on +for the present, and send me a line if you've time.</p> + +<p>"Every one sends all sorts of love, and we shall all be most awfully +glad to see you turn up again. This place is more putrid than ever +without you, and with all this fuss going on about Miss Vivian; but I +dare say it'll all turn out for the best if it makes us a bit keener +about the work for its own sake, and not for hers. After all, there <i>is</i> +a war on!"</p> + +<p>"Yours with best love,</p> + +<p>"DORA MARSH."</p> + + +<p>"Dora Marsh seems to me to be an uncommonly sensible girl," observed +Lady Vivian thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>She gazed into the fire in silence for a few moments before adding: "I +wonder who's been talking to them about Char? The only person I can +think of is Dr. Prince. I know he felt very strongly about it, and I +don't altogether wonder, though it may seem rather hard on her to have +her reputation for infallibility destroyed at last."</p> + +<p>"I think," said Grace, "that there would have been some feeling at the +Hostel, in any case, at Mrs. Bullivant's dismissal. She's been so kind +and nice to us all, and worked so hard always, and, of course, every one +knows that the loss of the position is serious for her. She's very poor, +and she has no home of her own to go to."</p> + +<p>"Of course, it's unthinkable. Char <i>must</i> have some reason for +dismissing her. I shall insist upon being told what it is!" cried +Joanna.</p> + +<p>There was more animation in her manner than Grace had seen there for +some time, and she was quite ready to follow her upstairs in immediate +search of Char.</p> + +<p>The Director of the Midland Supply Depôt was at her writing-table, +leaning back in the familiar attitude that invariably recalled to Grace +old-fashioned engravings of an Eastern potentate, her eyes half closed, +her slim fingers tapping upon the table in front of her, and her slow, +deep voice drawling in fluent dictation.</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce, far from possessing the skill of Mrs. Baker-Bridges, sat +agitatedly scribbling on various odd half-sheets of paper. Further notes +lay strewn all over the table and on the floor beside her chair.</p> + +<p>She looked up with shamefaced but unmistakable relief at the +interruption.</p> + +<p>"Have you been victimized all the afternoon?" inquired Joanna kindly, +but with her usual unfortunate choice of expression.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no!" said Miss Bruce, almost with horror. "But Charmian must be +tired. She's been working without a moment's rest, and it really does +give one some sort of idea of all that she must do at the office every +day."</p> + +<p>Char rewarded her with a melancholy smile.</p> + +<p>"At the office there are the telegrams, and the telephone messages, and +endless interviews to deal with as well. I don't think I ever get a +consecutive hour's time there to deal with the correspondence without +interruption. Now, all these letters which you see here could—"</p> + +<p>Joanna interrupted the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt without +ceremony.</p> + +<p>"I want you to tell me, Char, why you want that nice little +Superintendent of yours to leave the Hostel. The staff there is in +despair."</p> + +<p>Char suddenly sat upright.</p> + +<p>"That is a purely official matter, and it's disgraceful that there +should have been gossip about it already."</p> + +<p>"But why have you dismissed her?"</p> + +<p>"Because she is quite inadequate to fill the post of Hostel +Superintendent. I was there myself, and I never was in a worse-managed +or more uncomfortable establishment in my life."</p> + +<p>"I can quite believe it, my dear, but I'm inclined to think—and Grace, +who knows more about it than I do, agrees with me—that she's never had +a fair chance of running it properly."</p> + +<p>"I don't propose to discuss the matter with my secretary, mother."</p> + +<p>"But why not talk it over like ordinary human beings, Char?" said Lady +Vivian, reverting to all her old half-impatient, half-humorous +outspokenness. "I've no patience with you. What in the name of fortune +is the sense of vexing and distressing everybody, when by a little +decent management the whole thing could be put on to a proper basis? +Grace, you've lived in that Hostel. If the Superintendent had a freer +hand, couldn't it be made more comfortable?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, especially with any one as hard-working and anxious to make things +nice as Mrs. Bullivant. She may not be a very good manager, but, +indeed," said Grace pleadingly, "things have been very much against her. +If she could engage the sort of servants that she needs, and if there +were fewer people in the Hostel, so as to give more room, and better +arrangements made about the hot water and the food, it could be very +nice."</p> + +<p>"You are all in that Hostel for the purpose of war-work, Miss Jones, and +I should have thought that with that end in view a few minor discomforts +could have been overlooked. When one thinks of our men in the +trenches—"</p> + +<p>"However much you may have thought of them, Char, it didn't prevent your +going into rooms before you'd been at the Hostel a fortnight," Joanna +interrupted briskly. "Those girls are just as much flesh and blood as +you are yourself, whether you own to it or not. But I can tell you one +thing, and that is that they're beginning to find it out for +themselves."</p> + +<p>"To find out what?" said the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt, vexed +to the extent of for once speaking shortly and in monosyllables.</p> + +<p>Joanna shrugged her shoulders, and Grace said emphatically:</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bullivant is very popular, you know, and the staff can't +understand her getting such a summary dismissal. After all, it's very +serious for her, apart from everything else, because she's got to live."</p> + +<p>"To which, I suppose, Char would like to reply, 'Je n'en vois pas la +nécessité,'" quoted Lady Vivian, with her irrepressible laugh. "But it +really won't do, Char. You're dealing with human beings, and you'll have +to make up your mind to it."</p> + +<p>"I am dealing," said Char magnificently, "with an organization."</p> + +<p>"Even so, my dear, it's made up of human beings. But as it's tea-time +and I'm extremely hungry," said Lady Vivian, with a side-glance at Miss +Bruce, "we'd better postpone discussion until this evening. I don't know +whether you feel human enough to leave your papers and eat bread and jam +with the rest of us, but I dare say that Grace and Miss Bruce won't give +you away to the staff if you do."</p> + +<p>The outraged Miss Vivian left the last word to the ribald spirit +apparently animating her parent.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h3> + + +<p>Captain Trevellyan's Medical Board had passed him fit for active service +again, and he made matter-of-fact announcement of his approaching return +to France in the course of that evening.</p> + +<p>"Do you know when, Johnnie?"</p> + +<p>"Next draft that goes, I suppose. I rejoin the battalion the day after +tomorrow, and it might be any day after that."</p> + +<p>Exclamations were left to Miss Bruce. Grace and Joanna received the news +almost in silence, and Char remained monosyllabic.</p> + +<p>"Will you smoke in the library, John?" said Joanna as she rose from the +dining-table. "We'll have coffee there. We can also talk business, Char, +if you want to."</p> + +<p>"Then, shall I—?" said Miss Bruce, looking at Grace and feeling +strongly inclined to say "Shall we—?"</p> + +<p>Joanna laid her hand on the little secretary's shoulder. "Of course not, +Miss Bruce. You know we count you as one of the family."</p> + +<p>In the library a certain tenseness of atmosphere prevailed, until Joanna +had finally dismissed the coffee equipage, and leant back in a great +leather arm-chair under the lamp.</p> + +<p>John, next her, had taken up his favourite position on the hearthrug, +and was smoking in meditative silence, his eyes now and then seeking +Grace, whose head was bent over a piece of needlework.</p> + +<p>Char, presumably from force of habit, had seated herself at the +writing-table, and Miss Bruce took a low chair beside her, gazing dumbly +from her to Lady Vivian and back again, as though a divided loyalty +harassed her thoughts.</p> + +<p>Char broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"Mother, you spoke about letting this place this afternoon. Is that what +you mean to do?"</p> + +<p>"No. I only said that it was in my power to let it, but as a matter of +fact, since your Uncle Charles has no wish to make any change until the +war is over, he and I have agreed that it had better be made use of. He +is quite willing that I should do whatever seems best and most +necessary."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce uttered an exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Red Cross work, do you mean?"</p> + +<p>Char made a movement to check her, as though unwilling to let any +display of surprise greet Joanna's announcement.</p> + +<p>"Of course," she said slowly, "I could find a hundred uses for a place +like Plessing, from turning it into a hospital onwards. The idea had +naturally occurred to me before, but as, I must say, mother, you've +always discouraged any form of patriotic sacrifice by every means in +your power, and done everything possible to ignore the very fact of +there being a war, it never struck me that you would consent to such a +plan."</p> + +<p>John looked up.</p> + +<p>"It isn't a question of consent, Char. The scheme is Cousin Joanna's, +not any one else's."</p> + +<p>"As I am—as I have been placed—in the position of Director of the +Midland Supply Depôt, John," Char said quietly, "the voluntary +organizations here, of whatever kind, come under my jurisdiction, and I +must say—"</p> + +<p>"Char," interrupted her mother, "you may say anything you please, but +you'll never persuade any of us that you and I could work together +comfortably, and I haven't any intention of trying the experiment. I +shall offer this place as a convalescent home to be attached to the +Military Hospital at Staffield. That will put it altogether outside the +jurisdiction of your office."</p> + +<p>"It's too far from the station."</p> + +<p>"Not with a couple of cars and Government petrol," said John.</p> + +<p>"The doctors here are overworked as it is."</p> + +<p>"A convalescent home does not need the same amount of medical attendance +as a hospital, and Dr. Prince is perfectly willing to undertake whatever +is necessary."</p> + +<p>"But you'll want a staff, and at least two trained nurses in the house."</p> + +<p>"I have no doubt that they can be obtained. Char, I don't want to vex +you and make you feel that I'm acting in opposition to all your own +schemes," spoke Joanna impetuously, "but really and truly it wouldn't +answer if I tried to run things on your lines. I must do something, and +it seems a shame not to use Plessing. But I <i>had</i> thought of another +plan, though I know Johnnie doesn't approve of it."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," said John stoutly.</p> + +<p>Char had coloured deeply and her mouth was set. She spoke as though with +difficulty.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Tell her, Grace. You thought of it," said Lady Vivian.</p> + +<p>"To make Plessing the Hostel for your staff. Lady Vivian would give them +their board and lodging, and superintend herself. You see, it would make +an enormous difference if the present Hostel, which is much too small, +were free. You could make it into an extension of the office, which is +badly needed. The chief drawback, of course, is the distance, but we +should have to come in by the 9 o'clock train every morning, and either +bicycle back or come out by the 6.30 train. They're putting it on again +next month. You see, the days will be getting longer very soon, and +we've all the spring and summer in front of us."</p> + +<p>"I don't think it's practicable," Trevellyan said.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," echoed Miss Bruce, watching the thunder-cloud on Char's +forehead.</p> + +<p>"I thought Char might prefer it," said Joanna simply. "You would keep +your own rooms, my dear, of course, and it would be very much more +comfortable for all of you than the present arrangement. As to the +difficulty of getting in and out, there's no reason why we shouldn't see +what could be done about driving one way. I don't know if the petrol +ought to be used, but there are plenty of farm-horses, and we could hire +a wagonette, or something of that sort."</p> + +<p>"And what about the nights when we're all kept late, or a troop-train +comes in, and the Canteen work, which is never over before eleven or +half-past?"</p> + +<p>"You must give it up," Lady Vivian informed her placidly. "People can't +work half the night as well as all day, and I've always thought that you +had no business to ask it of your staff. That Canteen work is very +heavy, and utterly unfit for girls who've been all day in an office. It +isn't as if there weren't others to undertake it. Lesbia Willoughby says +that the ladies of the regiment are quite ready to divide it amongst +themselves—in fact, they've rather resented having it so completely +taken out of their hands."</p> + +<p>"Mother, you had better understand me once and for all. Nothing will +induce me to give up any single item of all that I've undertaken."</p> + +<p>"But, Char, why?" inquired Captain Trevellyan mildly. "Is it the work +you care about, or just the fact of doing it yourself?"</p> + +<p>Dead silence followed the inquiry.</p> + +<p>At last Char said, without attempting to answer it: "The Hostel +suggestion is quite impossible, mother. Even if it were not for the +practical objections, such as the distance from the work, I could not +accept. My staff has been put into perfectly suitable quarters, and I +should not dream of moving them. But as it has become more and more +evident that Miss Jones is dissatisfied there—" She paused, and looked +at Grace.</p> + +<p>Trevellyan made a sudden brusque gesture, but Grace said quickly: "I am +afraid that I had better ask you to accept my resignation, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>Char made no pretence at surprise, and simply bent her head in +acquiescence.</p> + +<p>Grace folded up her work and stood up. Trevellyan opened the door for +her, and, with one look at Joanna, passed out of the room after her.</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce gasped, as at a sudden illumination. But it was Joanna who +exclaimed roundly: "Well, Char, you've put your foot into it with a +vengeance! Unless I'm very much mistaken, John will be in no hurry to +forgive you."</p> + +<p>"Mother! why will you always obscure every issue of what is, after all, +national work, by some wretched personal question?"</p> + +<p>"Because, Char, I'm dealing with human beings, and not with machines."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lady Vivian!" cried Miss Bruce irrepressibly. "Forgive me, but you +speak as though she—she wasn't <i>adored</i> by her staff. Look how they all +admire her!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and she takes advantage of it to work them very much too hard, and +also to use her personal influence to obtain a sort of blind loyalty and +perfectly unreasoning admiration that is bad for the work, and bad for +the staff, and bad for her! However, Char, I don't mind telling you that +I think a good deal of that nonsense is coming to an end. Your staff has +not been at all impressed by your abominable treatment of that poor +little Superintendent, and they've also found out that you insisted on +going off to Questerham against your father's express wishes, and then +posed as a martyr to patriotism."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lady Vivian!" groaned the secretary.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know I'm losing my temper, but I always did and always shall +think that Char behaved in the most heartless and disgraceful fashion. +It wasn't I who told her staff about it, or Grace Jones either, but I'm +heartily grateful to whoever did. The work that we hear so much about +may get a chance of being attended to on its own merits now, in a +reasonable manner, instead of being overdone to a senseless degree, +simply because 'Miss Vivian is so wonderful!'"</p> + +<p>Joanna went to the door.</p> + +<p>"Think it over, Char, and if you like to behave like a reasonable being, +we'll talk over the Hostel scheme. Otherwise, John thinks there's no +doubt of this place being accepted as a convalescent home. But you'll +have to make up your mind, in that case, to see it being mismanaged by +mere military authorities."</p> + +<p>Joanna did not bang the door behind her, but she shut it with +considerable briskness, and left the appalled Miss Bruce to assist +Char's decision.</p> + +<p>The Director of the Midland Supply Depôt sat in an attitude of the most +unwonted dejection, her elbows on the writing-table and her head in her +hands. Miss Bruce hardly ventured to breathe in the heavy stillness that +pervaded the room.</p> + +<p>At last Char raised her head and looked at her. "Oh, Brucey," she said +piteously, "they're all very difficult to deal with!"</p> + +<p>The note of appeal, which Miss Bruce had not heard from Char since her +earliest childhood, moved the little secretary to great emotion.</p> + +<p>"Charmian, my poor dear child, it's very hard on you, after all you've +been through already. I know that dear Lady Vivian has never altogether +understood; and then her feelings about the war—so different—only, of +course, now she needn't consider—circumstances altered—reaction—"</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce floundered into a tangle of words, and ventured to put out +her hand timidly, although aware of how much Char disliked +demonstrations of affection.</p> + +<p>It affected her with a profound sense of how far Miss Vivian must be +reduced when she found her tentative hand received with a long, nervous +pressure.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what can I do? What can I say? Couldn't you make up your mind to +this Hostel scheme, which would at least keep you at home?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not thinking of myself—though, of course, it's quite true that if +Plessing becomes a convalescent home, under military ruling, I can't go +on living here. Nothing would induce me to remain in a place where I had +no official standing. My mother doesn't seem to consider that she's +practically forcing me to go on living, under most uncomfortable +conditions, in Questerham. Not," added Char hastily, recollecting +herself, "that I should dream of putting any personal consideration +before the work, or of letting my own comfort interfere with it in any +way."</p> + +<p>"I know, I know! It's wonderful, the way you've never thought of +yourself for a moment," cried Miss Bruce in all sincerity. "Even to your +meals, for I know too well that half the time you never have any proper +lunch at all, and your dinner at all hours. But I'm so dreadfully afraid +of your breaking down."</p> + +<p>"Not while there's work to be done, Brucey. But this winter has been +appalling, with one thing and another—father, and then all the +difficulties here, and half the staff getting laid up with influenza +before Christmas. They're few enough, as it is, for all they have to do, +and now I suppose half of them will resign."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all impossible, with Miss Jones making mischief and talking all +over the place about my private affairs, and then resigning in that +absurd way. No doubt that will be made into a grievance, too."</p> + +<p>"I thought," began Miss Bruce, and then hesitated, but Char looked so +impatient that she went on rather desperately—"I thought that you meant +to send her away in any case?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I did. You must see, Brucey, how utterly out of the question +it would be to have one member of the staff a sort of privileged person, +who'd been out here to stay, when none of the others have so much as set +foot in the place, and talking about my relations as though they were +intimate friends of hers. It would be quite impossible."</p> + +<p>If Miss Bruce saw the impossibility in question less clearly than did +Char, she said nothing.</p> + +<p>"No, Brucey, it's no good. I've set my hand to the plough, and there +must be no looking back. I shall have to make up my mind to Questerham."</p> + +<p>"But the discomfort!" wailed Miss Bruce.</p> + +<p>"It may convince my mother that there is more than mere self-will and +love of notoriety in my work. To me, Brucey, it seems almost laughable +that any one should attribute my work to that sort of motive, but, you +see, she has never understood me."</p> + +<p>"Never!" said Miss Bruce with entire conviction.</p> + +<p>"The wrench will be leaving you, dear old Brucey," Char said +affectionately.</p> + +<p>"Charmian," said the little secretary solemnly, "I can't do it. I can't +face letting you go alone to those horrible lodgings, and only Preston +to see to your comfort. I don't wish to say a word against Preston, and +I know how devoted she is to you, but there are things that she can't be +expected to think of. If you leave Plessing, you must take me with you."</p> + +<p>An emotion such as had never shaken Miss Vivian out of her +self-possession before, moved her suddenly now.</p> + +<p>"Do you really mean that, Brucey? Would you leave my mother, and the +work which she would certainly find for you here, and come and look +after me in Questerham? I do know that I'm difficult sometimes, and—and +I can't promise you always to come in punctually to dinner, but it would +make all the difference in the world to have you there."</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce's allegiance to Char dated from many years back, and needed +no strengthening—was, indeed, beyond it; but henceforward, come what +might, she would never forget that Miss Vivian had said that it made all +the difference in the world to have her there.</p> + +<p>"I will come whenever you like, and wherever you go, and I will look +after you as much as you'll let me," she said tearfully.</p> + +<p>There was a silence before Char remarked practically: "You'll have to +arrange it with my mother, Brucey. I don't want her to think that you're +deserting her for me."</p> + +<p>It was difficult to see how Lady Vivian could possibly think anything +else, but the uplifted Miss Bruce knew no qualms of spirit.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell her myself, my dear, and I know she'll understand. She'll be +only too glad that you should have somebody with you. Indeed, she does +care, very, very much, if you'll let me say so; but all that's passed +has—"</p> + +<p>"I know, I know! It all makes it the more impossible for me to stay here +with her and at the same time try to carry on the work."</p> + +<p>"Then you won't consider the idea of making this place into a hostel?"</p> + +<p>"I've already said that it's out of the question."</p> + +<p>Quite evidently, the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt was herself +again.</p> + +<p>She rose, and was meekly followed by Miss Bruce into the hall, where sat +Lady Vivian and Captain Trevellyan.</p> + +<p>"Mother, I'm going to bed," said Char calmly. "With regard to your +scheme of making this place into a hostel, by the way, I'm afraid it +wouldn't answer. I'm most grateful to you, but as Director of the +Midland Supply Depôt, I must refuse the offer."</p> + +<p>Joanna shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Then, my dear, as Director of the Midland Supply Depôt, I'm afraid you +must go on living uncomfortably in rooms, since I suppose you won't want +to stay here when the place is full of convalescent soldiers."</p> + +<p>"Not in the circumstances," said Char gravely.</p> + +<p>Miss Bruce advanced valiantly.</p> + +<p>"I have told Miss Vivian that I'm quite sure that you—you will see your +way to letting me go and be of what use I can to her in Questerham, Lady +Vivian."</p> + +<p>"Leave Plessing?"</p> + +<p>Lady Vivian's voice held surprise only, but the unfortunate Miss Bruce +was again obliged to struggle with divided feelings. She gazed miserably +round, but Captain Trevellyan returned her look with one of unmistakable +reproach, and Char was fixing her eyes persistently upon the fire. And +then reassurance came to her from Joanna's voice, unusually gentle.</p> + +<p>"I'm very glad, dear Miss Bruce. I shall like to feel that some one is +looking after Char who has known her all her life, and cared for her as +you have. And you won't be far away, so that I shan't feel I've lost +sight of you. You must come out and see me struggling with my +convalescents."</p> + +<p>She stretched out her left hand, and Miss Bruce, answering her smile +only with a convulsive pressure and a sort of sob compounded of mingled +relief, gratitude, and compunction, hurried upstairs with her +handkerchief undisguisedly held to her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Poor Miss Bruce! We shall make an exchange, Char," said her mother, +"for I'm hoping that Grace will stay here and help me."</p> + +<p>"In what capacity?"</p> + +<p>"Any capacity she likes."</p> + +<p>"I hope," said Char, in tones which held more of doubt than of +hopefulness, "that you will find her more accurate than I have. +Good-night."</p> + +<p>She went upstairs in her turn, feeling oddly tired and with a +disquieting sense of finality. Her way and her mother's had parted, and +although Char knew little regret for a separation which had long held +them apart in all but physical nearness, she felt to the full the +disturbing element introduced by a definitely spoken renunciation.</p> + +<p>She would return to her work on the morrow, and make the move from +Plessing as speedily as might be. But even in thinking of her work Char +felt, that evening, no solace, for the recollection of her mother's +words as to the frame of mind in which the staff might receive her left +her strangely bereft of her usual armour of self-confidence.</p> + +<p>In the hall, Trevellyan asked Joanna rather wistfully: "Do you mind very +much?"</p> + +<p>"Exchanging Miss Bruce for Grace? Do you think I shall lose by it?"</p> + +<p>They both laughed a little, and then Trevellyan, looking into the fire, +observed: "I'm glad you're going to have her. I shall like thinking that +she's working with you here."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad, Johnnie."</p> + +<p>There was the ghost of a flicker in Joanna's voice.</p> + +<p>"She'll be a comfort to you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed she will. The difference of age hasn't prevented our being +friends."</p> + +<p>"And—and you'll look after her?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so. At all events, I shan't allow her to do any nursing of +wounded, since we know the unfortunate effect that the sight of blood +has upon her."</p> + +<p>Joanna was laughing outright now.</p> + +<p>"Oh, did she tell you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I think <i>that</i> was the first time she and I ever had any real +conversation."</p> + +<p>"Was it? It was rather talented of you, in the circumstances."</p> + +<p>"Cousin Joanna."</p> + +<p>"Yes, John."</p> + +<p>Captain Trevellyan bent a yet more ardent scrutiny upon the fire.</p> + +<p>"It seems the wrong time to say anything about it, but you always +understand, and she and I could neither of us bear that you shouldn't +know it at once. I couldn't go away without telling you. Not," said +Johnnie, suddenly turning round and facing her, "that anything is +settled, you know."</p> + +<p>"Except the only thing that matters," said Joanna softly.</p> + +<p>"One thing that makes us both care so much," he said diffidently, "is +that we both care so much for you."</p> + +<p>She gave him both hands, regally, and he stooped and kissed them as he +might have a queen's.</p> + +<p>Presently she said: "I'm so glad, dear Johnnie. Nothing in the world +could make me happier."</p> + +<p>It was past eleven o'clock before John left her, and his final inquiry, +standing at the hall door, made her laugh outright.</p> + +<p>"You don't think any one will guess, do you? She doesn't want anything +said till her father knows, and unluckily I can't get down to Wales and +see him now. There won't be time. But you didn't guess till I told you, +did you?"</p> + +<p>"My dear Johnnie," said Joanna, with a singular absence of any emotion +but her habitual kindly satire in her voice, "you really remind me very +much sometimes of an ostrich!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h3> + + +<p>Grace Jones went back to the Hostel soon after the New Year in order to +pack up and to make her farewells before going for a month's holiday to +her home in Wales.</p> + +<p>"And then Plessing!" said Miss Marsh in an awed voice.</p> + +<p>"And then Plessing," Grace assented. "Lady Vivian hopes that it will be +properly started by that time as a convalescent home."</p> + +<p>She looked across the sitting-room to where Mrs. Bullivant was sitting, +with a smile that held inquiry and congratulation.</p> + +<p>"Fancy!" ejaculated Mrs. Bullivant, with a sort of timorous pleasure, +"Lady Vivian actually thought of me, and suggested my taking over the +work of quarter-mistress there. You know, looking after the stores and +all that sort of thing. I must say, it's very good of her, and I shall +like working there—and Gracie as secretary and all, too. It'll be quite +like old times."</p> + +<p>"I hate changes," observed Miss Henderson gloomily.</p> + +<p>"This place will be extraordinary, with you gone, Mrs. Bullivant, and +Gracie, and probably Tony and Plumtree as well."</p> + +<p>"Tony isn't leaving, is she?" cried Grace.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is. Sent in her resignation two days ago. The fact is, she was +altogether upset by that fuss we had about Miss Vivian the other day, +and so she's decided that she wants a change. And Greengage says she +won't stay without her. They always did hang together, you know."</p> + +<p>"I don't altogether wonder at poor old Plumtree," Mrs. Potter observed +thoughtfully. "Miss Vivian has always had a down on her, hasn't she? But +she and Tony will be a loss to the Hostel, and so will you, dear."</p> + +<p>"I don't like leaving a <i>bit</i>," Grace declared; "you've all been so nice +to me, and I've been very happy here."</p> + +<p>It was undeniable, however, that happiness was not destined to be the +prevailing characteristic of Miss Jones's last day in the office.</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian, seated at her paper-strewn table with all the old +arrogance, if not actually with an additional touch of it to counteract +the humanizing effect of the crêpe mourning band on her left arm, +ignored her junior secretary as far as possible, but inspected her work +with a closeness of attention that almost argued a desire to find it +defective.</p> + +<p>"You can hand over your work to Miss Delmege, Miss—er—Jones. She will +take it over on Monday next."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"And bring me your files."</p> + +<p>Char ran over the papers in the old way, with the murmured running +commentary that denoted her utter unconsciousness of all but the task in +hand, and at the same time made the extensive area covered by her +official correspondence fully evident to the perceptions of whoever +might be in the room with her.</p> + +<p>"Papers relating to that man Farmer's pension—those must go up today. +That contract for the milk—send it up to the Commissariat Department, +and I should like to know why they haven't sent me down the +balance-sheets for the month. Nothing is ever properly checked, it seems +to me, unless I do it myself, though Heaven only knows when I'm to find +time for it. I've got to go through the accounts today, some time or +other.... What's this? One of the nurses from the Town Hospital wants to +see me, and calmly writes to say so! I never heard such unofficial +nonsense in my life, as though I had time to give personal interviews to +every wretched little V.A.D. who chooses to ask for them! Miss Delmege!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Vivian?"</p> + +<p>"Take this letter and answer it in the third person. Make it quite clear +that any application of that sort is entirely out of order. If she wants +to speak to any one, she can go to Matron; and if it's necessary, Matron +can write to me about it."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege took the letter, and mentally framed to herself the +sentences in which she would later on make it clear to Gracie Jones that +Miss Vivian's manner never really meant anything, and that her summary +dismissal of any such appeal was only the necessary concomitant to +official authority. It had become increasingly clear to Miss Delmege +that Gracie was somehow, by the very reticence of her unspoken +judgments, at the bottom of the extraordinary prejudice with which so +many members of the staff now viewed the arbitrary ways of Miss Vivian.</p> + +<p>The clear, rapid undertones continued:</p> + +<p>"Boiler at the Hospital burst; they should have reported it sooner, but +I'll send an order to the shop people. Another list for transfer! Dr. +Prince transfers his men without rhyme or reason—all cases of myalgia +and trench feet, too. I shall have to write and tell him to reconsider +half of them, before I should dream of letting them leave.</p> + +<p>"What's all that?—case for massage, case for Shepherd's Bush, five +transfers for convalescent homes.... Send me up the Transport Officer. +Miss Delmege, what are my appointments for today?"</p> + +<p>"The new Superintendent for the Hostel is coming for an interview at two +o'clock, and Dr. Prince rang up to say that he would come in for a +moment at three."</p> + +<p>Char raised her eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"If I happen to be engaged or busy, he will have to wait. Is that all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven!" piously ejaculated Char, entirely <i>pour la forme</i>, since +the interviews which cut into her day's work afforded her the only +relief she obtained from its monotonous strain.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll get through these letters at once. Send those to Mrs. Potter; +and, Miss Delmege, you can take these—the rest are for the Clothing +Department. Miss Jones, kindly deal with these files.... Send for Miss +Coll—Mrs. Baker-Bridges, to take down some letters at once."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege looked rather disturbed, and remained standing at Char's +elbow without speaking.</p> + +<p>Miss Vivian, as was customary with her when wishing to display +absorption in her work, continued to turn over the papers on the table +without raising her eyes.</p> + +<p>At last she looked up and said sharply:</p> + +<p>"What is it, Miss Delmege? You fidget me very much by standing there in +that unmeaning way. Do you want anything?"</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege cleared her throat nervously. Too well did she know the +peculiar note of crisp asperity now sounding in her chief's voice.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid the stenographer isn't here today."</p> + +<p>"And why on earth not?"</p> + +<p>"She isn't well."</p> + +<p>"I've had no application for sick leave."</p> + +<p>"She only telephoned this morning to say that she didn't feel able to +come today."</p> + +<p>Char, with the calculated show of temper with which she greeted any +departures from discipline, struck the table with her hand, and made the +unfortunate Miss Delmege jump.</p> + +<p>"I think you've all lost your heads completely while I've been away. Is +this office under military discipline or is it not?"</p> + +<p>The question being purely rhetorical, Miss Delmege attempted no reply to +it, and merely drooped the more dejectedly over her sheaf of letters.</p> + +<p>"You can tell Miss Collins that unless she can apply for sick leave in +the proper manner, and with a medical certificate to say that she is +unfit for duty, she may consider herself dismissed."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege, only too thankful to feel that the Director's wrath was +not aimed at herself, hastened to the telephone to deliver the +ultimatum. She returned scarlet, and with an air of outraged modesty +that made Grace look at her in mild astonishment. Miss Jones's +curiosity, however, only received satisfaction that afternoon, at the +close of Dr. Prince's interview with Miss Vivian, when he casually +remarked: "By the way, that pretty little red-haired typist of yours, +the one who got married the other day, paid me a call yesterday."</p> + +<p>"Then, perhaps, you can inform me why she thought proper to remain away +from duty without leave today."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'll have her back tomorrow—for a time, anyway."</p> + +<p>Grace saw Miss Delmege make a hurried plunge into a small stationery +cupboard, where she appeared to be searching for something elaborately +concealed.</p> + +<p>"I can't have that sort of playing fast and loose with the work," Char +said icily. "If Miss Collins—"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Baker-Bridges," the doctor corrected her cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"If my stenographer can't attend to her work regularly, she is of very +little use to me."</p> + +<p>"She's probably going to be of more use to the nation, let me tell you, +than all the rest of you put together," said Dr. Prince.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege's agony of mind reached its culmination, and she let drop +an armful of heavy ledgers with a clatter which effectually covered any +further indelicate precision of utterance of which the doctor might have +been guilty.</p> + +<p>By the time that Grace had extinguished her own laughter in the +cupboard, and had assisted Miss Delmege to pick up her books, the Doctor +had slammed the door behind him, with a disregard for Miss Vivian's +presence which might perhaps be accounted for by the searching +cross-examination to which she had just subjected his proposed Medical +Board cases.</p> + +<p>"A doctor's profession, I suppose," Miss Delmege said to Grace in tones +of outraged delicacy as they left the office together, "destroys the +finer feelings altogether. I'm not prudish, so far as I know, but +really, after what passed in the office today—"</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd tell me what Mrs. Baker-Bridges said to you over the +telephone."</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege coloured and tossed her head.</p> + +<p>"Some people don't seem to mind <i>what</i> they say. I never did like her, +but I certainly didn't think she had a coarse mind."</p> + +<p>"And has she?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I wouldn't say it to any one but you, dear, and I know you won't +repeat any of it, but she was actually so pleased and proud at the mere +idea that she said she couldn't keep it to herself, though she isn't +even in the least certain."</p> + +<p>The virtuous horror expressed in Miss Delmege's whole person at such +deplorable outspokenness was so excessive that Grace dared not make any +reply for fear of producing an anti-climax.</p> + +<p>That evening, Grace's last at Questerham Hostel, her room-mate became +disconsolate.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what I shall do without you, Gracie, and this room will be +simply awful. You've always been such a dear about my being so untidy +and everything, and put up with all of it, and done such heaps of little +things. I shall never forget how you washed up the cups and tea-things +after our morning tea, dear, never."</p> + +<p>"But I was only too pleased," protested Grace. "You've done a lot for +me, if it comes to that. Look how often you've boiled your kettle for +me, and had everything ready on nights when I came back late. I shall +miss you very much, but don't forget that if ever you're in Wales you're +coming to stay with us."</p> + +<p>"I say, do you really mean that?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do."</p> + +<p>"You are a brick, Gracie. The thing I like about you," said Miss Marsh +instructively, "is that you don't put on any frills."</p> + +<p>"Well, why should I?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know—staying at Plessing, and knowing Miss Vivian's +people, and so on. There are others I could name," Miss Marsh said +viciously, "who take airs for a good deal less—in fact, for nothing at +all, that any one but themselves can see."</p> + +<p>Miss Jones knew from much previous experience the subject denoted by +that particular edge in her room-mate's voice.</p> + +<p>"Are you worried?" she asked sympathetically, selecting a euphemism at +random.</p> + +<p>"My dear, I've got an awful fear that Delmege means to move into this +room when you're gone. You'll see if she doesn't get round the new +Superintendent. She's always resented being put in with two others, and +that room of theirs will always be a three-bedded one."</p> + +<p>"But Tony and Miss Plumtree are both leaving."</p> + +<p>"Not yet, and, anyway, two others will be put in instead. Mark my +words," said Miss Marsh tragically, "that'll be the next thing. Delmege +and me stuck in here <i>tête-à-tête</i>, as they say."</p> + +<p>"I do hope not."</p> + +<p>"I shall resign, that's all. Simply resign. <i>And</i> give my reasons. I +shall say to Miss Vivian right out, when she asks me why I want to +leave—"</p> + +<p>"But she never does ask why any one wants to leave. Besides, you know +you wouldn't leave for such a ridiculous reason as that."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps I wouldn't! After all, I should be sorry to think I +couldn't get the better of Delmege, when all's said and done. I've a +very good mind to tell her quite plainly that if she's got her eye on +that corner bed she'll have to come to an understanding with me first, +both as to the use of the screen and who's to make tea in the morning +and turn the gas out at night. I've heard tales about Delmege's trick of +getting into bed in a hurry and leaving everybody else to do the work. +And she and I have had words before now."</p> + +<p>"I know you have," said Grace. "Perhaps that may prevent her from +wanting to come here."</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh looked gloomy, and then bounded up as a tap sounded on the +door.</p> + +<p>"What did I tell you? I'll take any bet you like that's Delmege nosing +round now. I know the way she swishes her petticoat—such swank, wearing +a silk one under uniform! Well, I'm not going to interfere with her."</p> + +<p>Miss Marsh bounced behind her screen.</p> + +<p>"Come in," Grace called.</p> + +<p>"Say I'm undressing," Miss Marsh issued a whispered command.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege stepped elegantly into the room, her favourite "fawn" +<i>peignoir</i> chastely gathered round her.</p> + +<p>"You alone, dear?"</p> + +<p>"No, she isn't. I'm undressing," said a sharp voice behind the screen.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege ignored the voice, and laid a patronizingly affectionate +hand upon Grace's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"What thick hair you have, dear! Quite a work brushing it, I should +think. Now, mine is so long that it's never had time to get really +thick, though I know you wouldn't guess it to look at it, but that's the +way it grows. As a child I used to have a perfect mass. Mother always +used to say about me, 'That child Vera's strength has all gone into her +hair, every bit of it.' It used to make her quite anxious, to see me +without a bit of colour in my face and this great mass of hair."</p> + +<p>"What made it all fall out, Delmege?" came incisively from behind the +screen.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege tossed the long attenuated plait of straight fair hair +which hung artlessly over one shoulder, and simulated deafness.</p> + +<p>"I just looked in as it's your last night here," she told Grace. "We +shall miss you, I'm sure. Tell me, dear, have you any idea who is coming +into this room in your place?"</p> + +<p>"Not any," hastily said Grace, as Miss Marsh's boot was dropped on the +floor with a clatter that argued a certain degree of energy in removing +it. "I suppose it will be arranged by the new Superintendent."</p> + +<p>"It might be kinder," said Miss Delmege thoughtfully, "to have all that +sort of thing in order before she arrives. She'll have plenty to do +without changes of bedroom. But of course this <i>is</i> a room for two, +there's no doubt about it. I've sometimes thought of a move myself, and +this might be a good opportunity—"</p> + +<p>The second boot was violently sent to rejoin its fellow.</p> + +<p>"Strange, the noise that goes on in here, isn't it, with only the pair +of you, too. I wonder it doesn't disturb you; but perhaps you're used to +it?"</p> + +<p>"If you don't like noise, Delmege, don't come in here," exclaimed the +still invisible Miss Marsh. "I never could bear creeping about without a +sound, like a cat, myself."</p> + +<p>"I dare say not," Miss Delmege returned, with a certain spurious +assumption of extreme gentleness in her little refined enunciation. "But +I hope we all know what give and take is in sharing a room—especially +in war-time."</p> + +<p>"There's more take than give about some of us, by all accounts, +especially in the matter of kettles and early tea," was the retort of +Miss Marsh, spoken with asperity.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege turned to Grace.</p> + +<p>"Well, dear, as I don't propose to have words either now or at any other +hour, I shall say good-night. Do you mean to say you manage with only +one screen?"</p> + +<p>"Quite well. Besides, there are two round the other bed."</p> + +<p>"I dare say that's very necessary," said Miss Delmege pointedly, as she +moved to the door. "Good-night, dear."</p> + +<p>"Good-night," said Grace, not without thankfulness.</p> + +<p>"Good-night," repeated Miss Delmege to the screen. "When I'm in here, I +shall certainly insist upon having an extra screen. I can't imagine how +anybody can manage with one only. And each will keep to her own side of +the room, too, instead of leaving her things all over the other's. What +I call untidy, some of these arrangements are. But, of course, it's all +what one's been used to, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Leaving no time for a reply to this favourite inquiry, Miss Delmege shut +the door gently behind her.</p> + +<p>Grace, proceeding to bed under the flow of eloquence directed at her +from behind Miss Marsh's screen, conjectured that the bedroom would know +no lack of spirited conversation between its inmates in the future.</p> + +<p>The next morning Miss Marsh asked her at breakfast: "Shall you go and +say good-bye to Miss Vivian?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think it's necessary, is it?" Grace said hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>"I can easily find out for you, dear, if she can see you for a moment," +Miss Delmege kindly volunteered.</p> + +<p>The opinion of the Hostel instantly veered round to an irrevocable +certainty that a farewell to Miss Vivian was not necessary.</p> + +<p>"After all, she'd only say she was too busy to see you."</p> + +<p>"Or say she couldn't conscientiously recommend you for clerical work, as +she did to poor Plumtree when she gave in her resignation the other +day."</p> + +<p>"After Plumtree has toiled over those beastly averages for the best part +of two years!"</p> + +<p>It was evident that the temper of the staff, for one reason or another, +was undergoing a very thorough reaction indeed.</p> + +<p>Only Miss Delmege remarked firmly: "I know nothing about Plumtree's +work, I'm sure, but if there's one thing Miss Vivian is, it's just. +Quite impartially speaking, one can't help seeing that, and especially +being, as I am, in the position of her secretary. As I always say, I get +at the human side of her."</p> + +<p>"<i>In</i>human, I call it," muttered Tony, Miss Plumtree's chief ally.</p> + +<p>"Wherever a recommendation is possible, Miss Vivian always gives it," +inflexibly replied Miss Delmege. "I can answer for that."</p> + +<p>Few things received less consideration in the Hostel than Miss Delmege +in process of answering for the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt, +and Miss Marsh, Tony, and Miss Henderson dashed simultaneously into +discussion of a project for seeing Grace off at the station.</p> + +<p>"We can get off at lunch-time, and your train goes at 1.30, doesn't it, +Gracie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I'd love you to come; only what about your lunch?"</p> + +<p>But every one said that didn't matter at all, and that, of course, dear +old Gracie must have a proper send-off.</p> + +<p>"How nice they all are to me!" thought Grace, and recklessly purchased a +supply of cigarettes, which she left with Mrs. Bullivant, for the +consolation of the Hostel during many Sunday afternoons to come.</p> + +<p>"We shall meet at Plessing," the little Superintendent said, kissing her +affectionately, "and it will be a great pleasure to work with you, Miss +Jones dear, and you must tell me all Lady Vivian likes, you know, and +how we can help her most."</p> + +<p>"You'll like working for her very much," Grace prophesied confidently. +"Good-bye, dear Mrs. Bullivant, and thank you for all your kindness to +me."</p> + +<p>She ran down the steps and would not look back, conscious of emotion.</p> + +<p>At the station the members of the staff were to appear when possible. +But as Grace crossed Pollard Street, glancing involuntarily at the +familiar office door, Miss Delmege, with a most unusual disregard for +propriety, emerged hastily, hatless and with her neat coils of hair +ruffled in the wind.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, dear. It's sad to lose you, but I'm sure I hope you'll like +your new job. I must say, it's been a pleasure to work with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad! How kind of you!"</p> + +<p>"It's not every one I could say it to," Miss Delmege observed, with +great truth. "But there's never been the least little difficulty, has +there? We shall all miss you, and I must say I could wish that some +others I could name were leaving in your place."</p> + +<p>Grace knew too well the nameless being alluded to, however feebly +disguised by the use of the plural. "Couldn't you get away to the +station?" she asked hastily.</p> + +<p>"Well, dear, I would, but really, with so many others there—to tell you +the truth, <i>that</i> Miss Marsh is beginning to get on my nerves a bit. +Besides, you see, if I went off early, Miss Vivian might think it rather +strange."</p> + +<p>On this unanswerable reason, Grace took a cordial farewell of Miss +Vivian's unalterably loyal remaining secretary.</p> + +<p>At the station Tony and Mrs. Potter hailed her eagerly. "We got down +early, but the others are coming. There's an awful crowd, dear; better +hurry."</p> + +<p>Grace, in obedience to their urgings, purchased her ticket, while Mrs. +Potter looked after the luggage and Tony took possession for her of a +corner seat facing the engine.</p> + +<p>"Here you are, and remember," said Mrs. Potter earnestly, "that you can +get a cup of nice hot tea at the Junction. There'll be plenty of time; I +found out on purpose."</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said Grace gratefully. She stood at the window, +and presently Tony and Mrs. Potter were joined by several other members +of the staff, all hurried, but eager to take an affectionate farewell of +Gracie.</p> + +<p>"Marsh ought to be here—can't think why she isn't. She was tearing +about like mad so as to get off in time," said Miss Plumtree.</p> + +<p>"That girl will come into heaven late," Miss Henderson prophesied, and +looked gratified when her neighbour emitted a faint, shocked +exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Give her my love if she's too late, and say I'm so very sorry," said +Grace.</p> + +<p>"You'll be off in a minute now."</p> + +<p>"Mind you come back next month all right. We'll come down and meet you."</p> + +<p>"I should like that so much. I shall look out on this very platform for +you all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gracie! shall we any of us ever see this awful platform without +thinking of those troop-trains and the ghastly weight of the trays?"</p> + +<p>"Never!" said Grace with entire conviction.</p> + +<p>"There's the whistle—you're off now."</p> + +<p>"And here's Marsh—she'll just do it. Look at her!"</p> + +<p>Grace hung out of the window, and saw the ever tardy Miss Marsh +hastening up the crowded platform, making free use of her elbows.</p> + +<p>"I started too late—that wretched Delmege pretended I was wanted—so +sorry, Gracie dear. Mind you write."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes. And please do all write to me when you have time, and tell me +all your news. And we'll meet again next month, as soon as I get back."</p> + +<p>The train was moving now, and only the panting and energetic Miss Marsh +hastened along beside it, her hand on the carriage window.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, good-luck. I shall miss you dreadfully in our room. Don't be +surprised if you hear that Delmege and I have had words together; that +girl simply gets on my nerves."</p> + +<p>"Stand back there, please."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Gracie!"</p> + +<p>"Good-bye."</p> + +<p>Grace stood at the window and waved to the little group until the blue +uniforms were lost to sight and only the flutter of Tony's handkerchief +was still visible.</p> + +<p>The Hostel days were over, but she would remember them always with a +smile for the small hardships that had been tempered by so much kindness +and merriment, and with a faithful recollection of the good +companionship that work and the comradeship of workers ever had brought +her.</p> + +<p>To John Trevellyan in the trenches, Grace wrote something of her +thoughts two days later, amid much else.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad I went to Questerham, apart from everything else, for the +experience. The Hostel life was sometimes uncomfortable, but it was +always amusing; and when all was said and done, everybody was ready to +do anything or everything for any one else. I can't believe I was only +there such a little while, for more happened to me there, and I got into +realer touch with more people, than ever before.</p> + +<p>"And now the New Year is only just beginning, and there have been so +many changes and happenings already. I wonder so much what else it is +going to bring to all of us who were together in Questerham."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h3> + + +<p>To Grace Jones herself the New Year, speeding on its way until it was +new no longer, brought much work in the convalescent home at Plessing, +the glad realization of Joanna Vivian's need of her, and innumerable +unstamped letters bearing the field postmark. The quality of Miss +Jones's peculiar philosophy was much tested as the months went by, but +it was characteristic of her to be much heartened and rejoiced by an +announcement confided to her soon after her return by Miss Marsh.</p> + +<p>"The boy I was such pals with has been sent back on sick leave, and +they're not sending him out again. And if you'll believe me, dear, I've +been persuaded into saying <i>yes</i>. He wants it to be quite soon, and +really I don't mind if it is; the Hostel is quite changed nowadays, and +not nearly as jolly as it was, now the new Superintendent makes us all +so comfortable. Besides, I don't mind telling you between ourselves, +Gracie, that I can't help fancying me going off like that and coming +back with a wedding-ring and all will be rather a knock in the eye for +our old friend Delmege."</p> + +<p>If this kindly prognostication was verified, Miss Delmege gave no sign +of it, beyond introducing several additional shades of superiority into +the manner of her congratulations.</p> + +<p>"Strange, isn't it?" she observed with a small and tight smile, "to see +the way some people put all sorts of personal considerations first and +the work afterwards! Personally, I agree with Miss Vivian on the +subject."</p> + +<p>In agreement with Miss Vivian, on that as on all else, Miss Delmege +continued to find solace. The promotion of Miss Bruce to Grace Jones's +vacant place in Miss Vivian's office was a source of disquiet to her for +some time, but the bond of a common admiration at last asserted itself, +and found expression in their united efforts to persuade Miss Vivian to +her lunch every day. There was also infinite consolation to Miss Delmege +in her assertions, frequently heard at the Hostel, that nowhere was the +human side of the Director of the Midland Supply Depôt so touchingly and +unmistakably shown as in the occasional unofficial lapses which led her +to address her secretary as "Brucey."</p> + +<p>The Hostel saw rapid changes when Tony and Miss Plumtree had both become +munition-workers, and Miss Bullivant had gone to Plessing. The +war-workers became the victims of a series of new superintendents, each +of whom found insuperable difficulty in accommodating herself to the +arbitrary ruling of Miss Vivian, and either departed summarily or +received a curt dismissal. Finally, an energetic Scotswoman established +herself at the Hostel and, as Miss Vivian had become exceedingly weary +of the quest, remained there unchallenged. She was a better manager than +little Mrs. Bullivant, and made drastic reformations in many directions, +several of which were ungratefully received by the older members of the +community.</p> + +<p>"For I must say," Mrs. Potter told Miss Henderson, "it was a good deal +more sociable in the old days, when we made toast for tea over the +sitting-room fire on Sunday afternoons, and Dr. Prince dropped in and +told us all the news."</p> + +<p>It was Tony and Miss Plumtree who dropped in now, and did their best to +bridge the gulf that had yawned so long between the munition-workers' +Hostel and that sacred to Miss Vivian's clerical staff.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well," Miss Plumtree instructively remarked as she +lounged in holland overalls and a pair of baggy but entirely +unmistakable garments from which Miss Delmege kept her eyes studiously +averted. "It's all very well, but working at munitions gives one a bit +of an idea as to what one's working for. You people may think it's all +Miss Vivian's personality, etc., etc., but I can tell you that's a jolly +small part of the whole show."</p> + +<p>The independence of Miss Plumtree's manner, as well as a new and strange +slanginess developed both by her and by little Miss Anthony, was noted +by their old companions without enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"After all," Tony chimed in patronizingly, "you really have the best of +it. Troop-trains simply aren't in it with our work. Standing all day +long, and shifts of twelve hours at a time—and if you turn green, that +little reptile of a Welfare Superintendent pouring water all over you +and telling you that there's nothing the matter."</p> + +<p>A shade of reminiscence, almost of regret, passed over her face.</p> + +<p>"At all events, Miss Vivian never did that—and she was pretty to look +at. Every one is hideous at the works—especially Jawbones."</p> + +<p>"And who," Mrs. Potter distantly inquired, "is Jawbones?"</p> + +<p>Her tone implied that there were nick-names <i>and</i> nicknames, and that +those in use amongst the <i>habituées</i> of the munitions-factory would meet +with little or no admiration from the refined inhabitants of the Hostel.</p> + +<p>"That's what we call the Superintendent," Tony said airily.</p> + +<p>Miss Delmege, her lips drawn into an extremely thin line, uttered her +solitary contribution to the conversation, before retiring with marked +aloofness to the bedroom where she hoped to defeat her old antagonist, +Miss Marsh, by annexing all three screens and the largest kettle of hot +water.</p> + +<p>"I must say, it does seem to me that a happy medium might be found +between doing your war work entirely for the sake of whoever's at the +head of it, and calling your superintendent '<i>Jawbones</i>.'"</p> + +<p>The conclusion was so irrefutable, that even the new-born independence +acquired by the munition-makers could produce no adequate reply.</p> + +<p>It might even be inferred from the unusual thoughtfulness with which the +holland-clad enthusiasts took their departure, that neither was devoid +of an occasional pang at the memory of the old days of blind obedience +and enthusiastic loyalty to the ideal which Char Vivian, with all her +autocratic charm and occasional flashes of kindness, still represented.</p> + +<p>As Dr. Prince had said, "the Vivians of Plessing stood for the highest +in the land."</p> + +<p>The doctor seldom came to the Hostel now, for time had brought him more +work than ever, and he spared himself none of it. Only at Plessing could +he sometimes be persuaded to spend half an hour in talking to Grace or +Lady Vivian after his medical inspection was over.</p> + +<p>"A wonderful work you're doing here," he told Joanna with satisfaction. +"I wish all our great houses could be turned to such good use—and all +our lady-workers too," added the doctor with some significance. "When +all's said and done, nursing is women's work and no one else's, and the +ruling of hospital discipline and the disposal of cases for Medical +Boards, or anything else, ought to be left to the Medical Officer. +That's <i>my</i> opinion, right or wrong, and will be till my dying day."</p> + +<p>To Joanna Vivian, presiding over the altered establishment at Plessing, +time brought many outlets for the unquenchable spirit of energy that +would always possess her. She brought gaiety to her work, and laughter +that was as unofficial as her inveterate habit of referring all +questions of discipline to Dr. Prince, and the management of each +individual branch to the helper in charge of it. Joanna's staff was not +a large one, and each member of it had her own special and peculiar +interest in the work given into her hands.</p> + +<p>It was in vain that Lesbia Willoughby, from London, wrote impassioned +accounts to her poor dear Joanna of the many activities in which her +days and nights appeared to fly past. "Wounded Colonials, blinded +officers, Flag-days, hospitals, canteens, Red Cross entertainments—I +have my finger in every single war-pie that's going, and I can't tell +you how too utterly <i>twee</i> some of the dear fellows are with whom I get +into touch. If you'll only trust that sulky girl of yours to me for six +months, I could do wonders for her, and probably get her off your hands +altogether. After all, dear, we can never forget that you and I were +girls together, can we?"</p> + +<p>"Lesbia never means to forget it, that's clear enough," was the sole +comment of Lady Vivian.</p> + +<p>She did not go through the form of transferring Mrs. Willoughby's +invitation to her daughter. It gradually became evident that the +Director of the Midland Supply Depôt would accord but little of her +fully occupied time to a convalescent home not supplied from her own +depôt, and as Joanna said to Grace, with her habitual slight shrug: "It +may be just as well, my dear. I'm not Miss Bruce, and Char and I haven't +the same way of looking at things. She vexed and disappointed her +father, and no amount of eloquence about her high and mighty motives +will ever make me altogether forget it. I shall never be able to hear +her talk about her position as Director of the Midland Supply Depôt +without thinking what a fool I was not to smack her well when she was a +child."</p> + +<p>Thus Joanna, half laughing, but with the eternal loneliness that all +John's steadfast loyalty and Grace's loving companionship would never +altogether assuage still underlying the dauntless youthfulness in her +blue eyes.</p> + +<p>For Trevellyan the months succeeded one another, strangely monotonous. +In company with a hundred thousand others "somewhere in France," he +moved between the mud and noise and blood in the trenches, and the +eternal dreary billets where letters from home and the need of sleep +were the only considerations. But to his Grace in England Johnnie wrote +cheerily, of hope and good courage, and peace dawning on a far horizon, +and of the prospect of ten days' leave.</p> + +<p>To Char Vivian, Director of the Midland Supply Depôt, the advancing +year, imperceptibly enough, brought certain solutions and +enlightenments.</p> + +<p>The personal fascination that she could exert when she willed would +always secure for her a following of blindly devoted adherents, but her +influence was not always strong enough to retain their admiration. +Insensibly, Char modified a little of her arbitrariness.</p> + +<p>"They put so much else before the work," she said helplessly to Miss +Bruce.</p> + +<p>But Char's perceptions were never lacking in acumen, and she became more +and more aware of the truth of Joanna's prognostication that the work of +the Supply Depôt would be done for its own sake, and for that of the +cause in whose name it existed. And it was perhaps that awareness which +brought to her a gradual realization of motives in her own self-devotion +hitherto unacknowledged to herself.</p> + +<p>The Director of the Midland Supply Depôt might sit day after day and +hour after hour at her paper-strewn table, issuing orders and receiving +the official interviews and communications that so clearly indicated the +high responsibility of her position, but Char Vivian grew to exercise a +certain discretion in the matter of her return to the meals and rest so +anxiously watched over by Miss Bruce, whose adoring loyalty was hers +beyond any possibility of shaking.</p> + +<p>In those occasional unofficial concessions to her imploring solicitude +might, after all, be numbered the most creditable achievements of Miss +Vivian.</p> + +<p>LONDON, 1917.</p> + +<p>THE END</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 37181 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + |