第10章

"Ah！"hesaid，"whatbeauty！Andtheydon’tseeit——notoneinathousand！Pity，isn’tit？Beautyistheholything！"

Fort，inhisturn，shruggedhisshoulders。"Everymantohisvision！"hesaid。"Myleg’sbeginningtobotherme;I’mafraidI

musttakeacab。Here’smyaddress;anytimeyouliketocome。I’mofteninaboutseven。Ican’ttakeyouanywhere，Isuppose？"

"Athousandthanks，monsieur;butIgonorth。Ilovedyourwordsaboutthepack。Ioftenwakeatnightandhearthehowlingofallthepacksoftheworld。Thosewhoarebynaturegentlenowadaysfeeltheyarestrangersinafarland。Goodnight，monsieur！"

Hetookoffhisqueerhat，bowedlow，andcrossedoutintotheStrand，likeonewhohadcomeinadream，andfadedoutwiththewaking。Forthailedacab，andwenthome，stillseeingNoel’sface。

Therewasone，ifyouliked，waitingtobethrowntothewolves，waitingfortheworld’spacktobeginhowlingroundher——thatlovelychild;andthefirst，theloudestofallthepack，perhaps，mustbeherownfather，thelean，darkfigurewiththegentleface，andtheburntbrighteyes。Whataghastlybusiness！HisdreamsthatnightwerenotsuchasLeilawouldhaveapproved。

IX

Wheninthecupboardthereisarealandverybonyskeleton，carefullykeptfromthesightofasinglememberofthefamily，thepositionofthatmemberisliabletobecomelonely。ButPierson，whohadbeenlonelyfifteenyears，didnotfeelitsomuch，perhaps，asmostmenwouldhave。Inhisdreamynaturetherewasacuriousself—

sufficiency，whichonlyviolentshocksdisturbed，andhewentonwithhisroutineofduty，whichhadbecomeforhimassetasthepavementshetrodonhiswaytoandfromit。Itwasnotexactlytrue，asthepainterhadsaid，thatthisroutinedidnotbringhimintotouchwithlife。Afterallhesawpeoplewhentheywereborn，whentheymarried，whentheydied。Hehelpedthemwhentheywantedmoney，andwhentheywereill;hetoldtheirchildrenBiblestoriesonSundayafternoons;heservedthosewhowereinneedwithsoupandbreadfromhissoupkitchen。Heneversparedhimselfinanyway，andhisearswerealwaysattheserviceoftheirwoes。Andyethedidnotunderstandthem，andtheyknewthat。Itwasasthoughhe，orthey，werecolour—blind。Thevalueswerealldifferent。Hewasseeingonesetofobjects，theyanother。

Onestreetofhisparishtouchedamainlineofthoroughfare，andformedalittlepartofthenewhunting—groundsofwomen，who，chasedforthfromtheirusualhauntsbytheAuthoritiesunderpressureofthecountry’sdanger，nowpursuedtheircallinginthedark。ThisparticularevilhadalwaysbeenasortofnightmaretoPierson。Thestarvationwhichruledhisownexistenceinclinedhimtoaparticularlysevereviewandseveritywasnothisstrongpoint。Inconsequencetherewaseverwithinhimasortofverypersonalandpoignantstrugglegoingonbeneaththatseemingattitudeofrigiddisapproval。Hejoinedthehunters，asitwere，becausehewasafraid—not，ofcourse，ofhisowninstincts，forhewasfastidious，agentleman，andapriest，butofbeinglenienttoasin，tosomethingwhichGodabhorred:Hewas，asitwere，boundtotakeaprofessionalviewofthisparticularoffence。Wheninhiswalksabroadhepassedoneofthesewomen，hewouldunconsciouslypursehislips，andfrown。

Thedarknessofthestreetsseemedtolendthemsuchpower，suchunholysovereigntyoverthenight。Theyweresuchadangertothesoldiers，too;andinturn，thesoldiersweresuchadangertothelambsofhisflock。Domesticdisastersinhisparishcametohisearsfromtimetotime;casesofyounggirlswhoseheadswereturnedbysoldiers，sothattheywereabouttobecomemothers。Theyseemedtohimpitifulindeed;buthecouldnotforgivethemfortheirgiddiness，forputtingtemptationinthewayofbraveyoungmen，fighting，orabouttofight。Theglamourwhichsurroundedsoldierswasnotexcuseenough。Whenthebabieswereborn，andcametohisnotice，heconsultedaCommitteehehadformed，ofthreemarriedandtwomaidenladies，whovisitedthemothers，andifnecessarytookthebabiesintoacreche;forthosebabieshadanewvaluetothecountry，andwerenot——poorlittlethings！——tobeheldresponsiblefortheirmothers’faults。Hehimselfsawlittleoftheyoungmothers;shyofthem，secretlyafraid，perhaps，ofnotbeingcensoriousenough。ButonceinawayLifesethimfacetofacewithone。

OnNewYear’sEvehewassittinginhisstudyaftertea，atthathourwhichhetriedtokeepforhisparishioners，whenaMrs。Mitchettwasannounced，asmallbookseller’swife，whomheknewforanoccasionalCommunicant。Shecamein，accompaniedbyayoungdark—eyedgirlinaloosemouse—colouredcoat。Athisinvitationtheysatdowninfrontofthelongbookcaseonthetwogreenleatherchairswhichhadgrownwornintheserviceoftheparish;and，screwedroundinhischairatthebureau，withhislongmusician’sfingerspressedtogether，helookedatthemandwaited。Thewomanhadtakenoutherhandkerchief，andwaswipinghereyes;butthegirlsatquiet，asthemouseshesomewhatresembledinthatcoat。

"Yes，Mrs。Mitchett？"Hesaidgently，atlast。

Thewomanputawayherhandkerchief，sniffedresolutely，andbegan:

"It’s’Ilda，sir。SuchathingMitchettandmenevercould’aveexpected，comin’onussosudden。Ithoughtitbesttobring，’erround，poorgirl。Ofcourse，it’sallthewar。I’vewarned’eradozentimes;butthereitis，comin’nextmonth，andthemaninFrance。"Piersoninstinctivelyavertedhisgazefromthegirl，whohadnotmovedhereyesfromhisface，whichshescannedwithaseemingabsenceofinterest，asifshehadlonggivenupthinkingoverherlot，andleftitnowtoothers。

"Thatissad，"hesaid;"very，verysad。"

"Yes，"murmuredMrs。Mitchett;"that’swhatItell’Ilda。"

Thegirl’sglance，loweredforasecond，resumeditsimpersonalscrutinyofPierson’sface。

"Whatistheman’snameandregiment？PerhapswecangetleaveforhimtocomehomeandmarryHildaatonce。"

Mrs。Mitchettsniffed。"Shewon’tgiveit，sir。Now，’Ilda，giveittoMr。Pierson。"Andhervoicehadarealnoteofentreaty。Thegirlshookherhead。Mrs。Mitchettmurmureddolefully:"That’s’owsheis，sir;notawordwillshesay。AndasItellher，wecanonlythinktheremust’avebeenmorethanone。Andthatdoesputustoshameso！"

Butstillthegirlmadenosign。

"Youspeaktoher，sir;I’mreallyatmywit’send。"

"Whywon’tyoutellus？"saidPierson。"Themanwillwanttodotherightthing，’I’msure。"

Thegirlshookherhead，andspokeforthefirsttime。

"Idon’tknowhisname。"

Mrs。Mitchett’sfacetwitched。

"Oh，dear！"shesaid:"Thinkofthat！She’sneversaidasmuchtous。"

"Notknowhisname？"Piersonmurmured。"Buthow——howcouldyou——"

hestopped，buthisfacehaddarkened。"Surelyyouwouldneverhavedonesuchathingwithoutaffection？Come，tellme！"

"Idon’tknowit，"thegirlrepeated。

"It’stheseParks，"saidMrs。Mitchett，frombehindherhandkerchief。"Andtothinkthatthis’llbeourfirstgrandchildandall！’Ildaisdifficult;asquiet，asquiet;butthatstubborn——"

Piersonlookedatthegirl，whoseemed，ifanything，lessinterestedthanever。Thisimpenetrabilityandsomethingmulishinherattitudeannoyedhim。"Ican’tthink，"hesaid，"howyoucouldsohaveforgottenyourself。It’strulygrievous。"

Mrs。Mitchettmurmured:"Yes，sir;thegirlsgetsitintotheirheadsthatthere’sgoingtobenoyoungmenforthem。"

"That’sright，"saidthegirlsullenly。

Pierson’slipsgrewtighter。"Well，whatcanIdoforyou，Mrs。

Mitchett？"hesaid。"Doesyourdaughtercometochurch？"

Mrs。Mitchettshookherheadmournfully。"Neversinceshehadherbyke。"

Piersonrosefromhischair。Theoldstory！Controlanddisciplineundermined，andthesebitterapplestheresult！

"Well，"hesaid，"ifyouneedourcreche，youhaveonlytocometome，"andheturnedtothegirl。"Andyou——won’tyouletthisdreadfulexperiencemoveyourheart？Mydeargirl，wemustallmasterourselves，ourpassions，andourfoolishwilfulness，especiallyinthesetimeswhenourcountryneedsusstrong，andself—

disciplined，notthinkingofourselves。I’msureyou’reagoodgirlatheart。"

Thegirl’sdarkeyes，unmovedfromhisface，rousedinhimaspasmofnervousirritation。"Yoursoulisingreatdanger，andyou’reveryunhappy，Icansee。TurntoGodforhelp，andinHismercyeverythingwillbemadesodifferentforyou——soverydifferent！

Come！"

Thegirlsaidwithasortofsurprisingquietness:"Idon’twantthebaby！"

Theremarkstaggeredhim，almostasifshehadutteredahideousoath。

’Ildawasinmunitions，"saidhermotherinanexplanatoryvoice:

"earnin’amatteroffourpoundaweek。Oh！dear，itisawastean’

all！"Aqueer，ratherterriblelittlesmilecurledPierson’slips。

"Ajudgment！"hesaid。"Goodevening，Mrs。Mitchett。Goodevening，Hilda。Ifyouwantmewhenthetimecomes，sendforme。"

Theystoodup;heshookhandswiththem;andwassuddenlyawarethatthedoorwasopen，andNoelstandingthere。Hehadheardnosound;

andhowlongshehadbeentherehecouldnottell。Therewasasingularfixityinherfaceandattitude。Shewasstaringatthegirl，who，asshepassed，liftedherface，sothatthedarkeyesandthegreyeyesmet。Thedoorwasshut，andNoelstoodtherealonewithhim。

"Aren’tyouearly，mychild？"saidPierson。"Youcameinveryquietly。"

"Yes;Iheard。"

Aslightshockwentthroughhimatthetoneofhervoice;herfacehadthatpossessedlookwhichhealwaysdreaded。"Whatdidyouhear？"hesaid。

"Iheardyousay:’Ajudgment！’You’llsaythesametome，won’tyou？Only，Idowantmybaby。"

Shewasstandingwithherbacktothedoor，overwhichadarkcurtainhung;herfacelookedyoungandsmallagainstitsstuff，hereyesverylarge。Withonehandshepluckedatherblouse，justoverherheart。

Piersonstaredather，andgrippedthebackofthechairhehadbeensittingin。Alifetimeofrepressionservedhiminthehalf—realisedhorrorofthatmoment。Hestammeredoutthesingleword"Nollie！"

"It’squitetrue，"shesaid，turnedround，andwentout。

Piersonhadasortofvertigo;ifhehadmoved，hemusthavefallendown。Nollie！Heslidroundandsankintohischair，andbysomehorriblecruelfictionofhisnerves，heseemedtofeelNoelonhisknee，as，whenalittlegirl，shehadbeenwonttosit，withherfairhairfluffingagainsthischeek。Heseemedtofeelthathairticklinghisskin;itusedtobethegreatestcomforthehadknownsincehermotherdied。Atthatmomenthisprideshrivelledlikeaflowerheldtoaflame;allthatabundantsecretprideofafatherwholovesandadmires，whoworshipsstilladeadwifeinthechildrenshehaslefthim;who，humblebynature，yetneverknowshowproudheistillthebitterthinghappens;allthelongprideofthepriestwho，bydintofexhortationandremonstrancehascoatedhimselfinasuperiorityhehardlysuspects——allthisprideshrivelledinhim。

Thensomethingwrithedandcriedwithin，asatorturedbeastcries，atlosstoknowwhyitisbeingtortured。Howmanytimeshasnotamanusedthosewords:"MyGod！MyGod！WhyhastThouforsakenme！"

Hesprangupandtriedtopacehiswayoutofthiscageofconfusion:

Histhoughtsandfeelingsmadethestrangestmedley，spiritualandworldly——Socialostracism——hersoulinperil——atrialsentbyGod！

Thefuture！Imaginationfailedhim。Hewenttohislittlepiano，openedit，closeditagain;tookhishat，andstoleout。Hewalkedfast，withoutknowingwhere。Itwasverycold——aclear，bitterevening。Silentrapidmotioninthefrostyairwassomerelief。AsNoelhadfledfromhim，havingutteredhernews，sodidheflyfromher。Theafflictedwalkfast。Hewassoondownbytheriver，andturnedWestalongitswall。Themoonwasup，brightandnearlyfull，andthesteel—likeshimmerofitslightburnishedtheebbingwater。

Acruelnight！HecametotheObelisk，andleanedagainstit，overcomebyaspasmofrealisation。Heseemedtoseehisdeadwife’sfacestaringathimoutofthepast，likeanaccusation。"HowhaveyoucaredforNollie，thatsheshouldhavecometothis？"Itbecamethefaceofthemoonlitsphinx，staringstraightathim，thebroaddarkfacewithwidenostrils，cruellips，fulleyesblankofpupils，alllivenedandwhitenedbythemoonlight——anembodimentofthemarvellousunseeingenergyofLife，twistingandturningheartswithoutmercy。Hegazedintothoseeyeswithasortofscareddefiance。Thegreatclawedpawsofthebeast，thestrengthandremorselessserenityofthatcrouchingcreaturewithhumanhead，madelivingbyhisimaginationandthemoonlight，seemedtohimlikeatemptationtodenyGod，likearefutationofhumanvirtue。

Then，thesenseofbeautystirredinhim;hemovedwherehecouldseeitsflankscoatedinsilverbythemoonlight，theribsandthegreatmuscles，andthetailwithtipcoiledoverthehaunch，liketheheadofaserpent。Itwasweirdlyliving;fineandcruel，thatgreatman—

madething。Itexpressedsomethinginthesoulofman，pitilessandremotefromlove——orrather，theremorselessnesswhichmanhadseen，lurkingwithinman’sfate。Piersonrecoiledfromit，andresumedhismarchalongtheEmbankment，almostdesertedinthebittercold。Hecametowhere，intheopeningoftheUndergroundrailway，hecouldseethelittleformsofpeoplemoving，littleorangeandredlightsglowing。Thesightarrestedhimbyitswarmthandmotion。Wasitnotalladream？Thatwomanandherdaughter，hadtheyreallycome？

HadnotNoelbeenbutanapparition，herwordsatrickwhichhisnerveshadplayedhim？Then，toovividlyagain，hesawherfaceagainstthedarkstuffofthecurtain，thecurveofherhandpluckingatherblouse，heardthesoundofhisownhorrified:"Nollie！"Noillusion，nodeception！Theedificeofhislifewasinthedust。

Andaqueerandghastlycompanyoffacescameabouthim;faceshehadthoughtfriendly，ofgoodmenandwomenwhomheknew，yetatthatmomentdidnotknow，allgatheredroundNoel，withfingerspointingather。Hestaggeredbackfromthatvision，couldnotbearit，couldnotrecognisethiscalamity。Withasortofcomfort，yetanachingsenseofunreality，hismindflewtoallthosesummerholidaysspentinScotland，Ireland，Cornwall，Wales，bymountainandlake，withhistwogirls;whatsunsets，andturningleaves，birds，beasts，andinsectstheyhadwatchedtogether！Fromtheiryouthfulcompanionship，theireagerness，theirconfidenceinhim，hehadknownsomuchwarmthandpleasure。Ifallthosememoriesweretrue，surelythiscouldnotbetrue。Hefeltsuddenlythathemusthurryback，gostraighttoNoel，tellherthatshehadbeencrueltohim，orassurehimselfthat，forthemoment，shehadbeeninsane:Histemperrosesuddenly，tookfire。Hefeltangeragainsther，againsteveryoneheknew，againstlifeitself。Thrustinghishandsdeepintothepocketsofhisthinblackovercoat，heplungedintothatnarrowglowingtunnelofthestationbooking—office，whichledbacktothecrowdedstreets。Butbythetimehereachedhomehisangerhadevaporated;

hefeltnothingbututterlassitude。Itwasnineo’clock，andthemaidshadclearedthediningtable。IndespairNoelhadgoneuptoherroom。Hehadnocourageleft，andsatdownsupperlessathislittlepiano，lettinghisfingersfindsoftpainfulharmonies，sothatNoelperhapsheardthefaintfarthrummingofthatmusicthroughuneasydreams。Andtherehestayed，tillitbecametimeforhimtogoforthtotheOldYear’sMidnightService。

Whenhereturned，Piersonwrappedhimselfinarugandlaydownontheoldsofainhisstudy。Themaid，cominginnextmorningto"do"

thegrate，foundhimstillasleep。Shestoodcontemplatinghiminawe;abroad—faced，kindly，fresh—colouredgirl。Helaywithhisfacerestingonhishand，hisdark，justgrizzlinghairunruffled，asifhehadnotstirredallnight;hisotherhandclutchedtherugtohischest，andhisbootedfeetprotrudedbeyondit。Toheryoungeyeshelookedratherappallinglyneglected。Shegazedwithinterestatthehollowsinhischeeks，andthefurrowsinhisbrow，andthelips，dark—moustachedandbearded，sotightlycompressed，evenin。

sleep。Beingholydidn’tmakeamanhappy，itseemed！Whatfascinatedherwerethecinderyeyelashesrestingonthecheeks，thefaintmovementoffaceandbodyashebreathed，thegentlehissofbreathescapingthroughthetwitchingnostrils。Shemovednearer，bendingdownoverhim，withthechildlikenotionofcountingthoselashes。Herlipspartedinreadinesstosay:"Oh！"ifhewaked。

Somethinginhisface，andthelittletwitcheswhichpassedoverit，madeherfeel"thatsorry"forhim。Hewasagentleman，hadmoney，preachedtohereverySunday，andwasnotsoveryold——whatmorecouldamanwant？Andyet——helookedsotired，withthosecheeks。

Shepitiedhim;helplessandlonelyheseemedtoher，asleepthereinsteadofgoingtobedproperly。Andsighing，shetiptoedtowardsthedoor。

"Isthatyou，Bessie？"

Thegirlturned:"Yes，sir。I’msorryIwokeyou，sir。’AppyNewYear，sir！"

"Ah，yes。AHappyNewYear，Bessie。"

Shesawhisusualsmile，sawitdie，andafixedlookcomeonhisface;itscaredher，andshehurriedaway。Piersonhadremembered。

Forfullfiveminuteshelaytherestaringatnothing。Thenherose，foldedtherugmechanically，andlookedattheclock。Eight！Hewentupstairs，knockedonNoel’sdoor，andentered。

Theblindsweredrawnup，butshewasstillinbed。Hestoodlookingdownather。"AHappyNewYear，mychild！"hesaid;andhetrembledallover，shiveringvisibly。Shelookedsoyoungandinnocent，soround—facedandfresh，afterhernight’ssleep，thatthethoughtsprangupinhimagain:’Itmusthavebeenadream！’Shedidnotmove，butaslowflushcameupinhercheeks。Nodream——dream！Hesaidtremulously:"Ican’trealise。I——IhopedIhadheardwrong。

Didn’tI，Nollie？Didn’tI？"

Shejustshookherhead。

"Tellme——everything，"hesaid;"forGod’ssake！"

Hesawherlipsmoving，andcaughtthemurmur:Theresnothingmore。

GratianandGeorgeknow，andLeila。Itcan’tbeundone，Daddy。

PerhapsIwouldn’thavewantedtomakesure，ifyouhadn’ttriedtostopCyrilandme——andI’mgladsometimes，becauseIshallhavesomethingofhis——"Shelookedupathim。"Afterall，it’sthesame，really;only，there’snoring。It’snogoodtalkingtomenow，asifIhadn’tbeenthinkingofthisforages。I’musedtoanythingyoucansay;I’vesaidittomyself，yousee。There’snothingbuttomakethebestofit。"

Herhothandcameoutfromunderthebedclothes，andclutchedhisverytight。Herflushhaddeepened，andhereyesseemedtohimtoglitter。

"Oh，Daddy！Youdolooktired！Haven’tyoubeentobed？PoorDaddy！"

Thathotclutch，andthewords:"PoorDaddy！"broughttearsintohiseyes。Theyrolledslowlydowntohisbeard，andhecoveredhisfacewiththeotherhand。Hergriptightenedconvulsively;suddenlyshedraggedittoherlips，kissedit，andletitdrop。

"Don’t！"shesaid，andturnedawayherface。

Piersoneffacedhisemotion，andsaidquitecalmly:

"Shallyouwishtobeathome，mydear，ortogoelsewhere？"

Noelhadbeguntotossherheadonherpillow，likeafeverishchildwhosehairgetsinitseyesandmouth。

"Oh！Idon’tknow;whatdoesitmatter？"

"Kestrel;wouldyouliketogothere？Youraunt——Icouldwritetoher。"Noelstaredathimamoment;astruggleseemedgoingonwithinher。

"Yes，"shesaid，"Iwould。Only，notUncleBob。"

"Perhapsyourunclewouldcomeuphere，andkeepmecompany。"

Sheturnedherfaceaway，andthattossingmovementofthelimbsbeneaththeclothesbeganagain。"Idon’tcare，"shesaid;

"anywhere——itdoesn’tmatter。"

Piersonputhischillyhandonherforehead。"Gently！"hesaid，andkneltdownbythebed。"MercifulFather，"hemurmured，"giveusstrengthtobearthisdreadfultrial。Keepmybelovedchildsafe，andbringherpeace;andgivemetounderstandhowIhavedonewrong，howIhavefailedtowardsThee，andher。Inallthingschastenandstrengthenher，mychild，andme。"

Histhoughtsmovedonintheconfused，inarticulatesuspenseofprayer，tillheheardhersay:"Youhaven’tfailed;whydoyoutalkoffailing——itisn’ttrue;anddon’tprayforme，Daddy。"

Piersonraisedhimself，andmovedbackfromthebed。Herwordsconfoundedhim，yethewasafraidtoanswer。Shepushedherheaddeepintothepillow，andlaylookingupattheceiling。

"Ishallhaveason;Cyrilwon’tquitehavedied。AndIdon’twanttobeforgiven。"

Hedimlyperceivedwhatlongdumbprocessesofthoughtandfeelinghadgoneoninhertoproducethishardenedstateofmind，whichtohimseemedalmostblasphemous。Andintheverymidstofthisturmoilinhisheart，hecouldnothelpthinkinghowlovelyherfacelooked，lyingbacksothatthecurveofherthroatwasbared，withtheshorttendrilsofhaircoilingaboutit。Thatflung—backhead，movingrestlesslyfromsidetosideintheheatofthesoftpillow，hadsuchapassionofprotestinglifeinit！Andhekeptsilence。

"Iwantyoutoknowitwasallme。ButIcan’tpretend。OfcourseI’lltryandnotletithurtyoumorethanIpossiblycan。I’msorryforyou，poorDaddy;oh！I’msorryforyou！"Withamovementincrediblylitheandswift，sheturnedandpressedherfacedowninthepillow，sothatallhecouldseewashertumbledhairandthebedclothestremblingabovehershoulders。Hetriedtostrokethathair，butsheshookherheadfree，andhestoleout。

Shedidnotcometobreakfast;andwhenhisownwretchedmealwasover，themechanismofhisprofessionallifecaughthimagainatonce。NewYear’sDay！Hehadmuchtodo。Hehad，beforeall，tobeofacheerfulcountenancebeforehisflock，togreetallandanywithanairofhopeandcourage。

X

1

ThirzaPierson，seeingherbrother—in—law’shandwriting，naturallysaid:"Here’saletterfromTed。"

BobPierson，withamouthfullofsausage，asnaturallyresponded:

"Whatdoeshesay？"

Inreadingon，shefoundthattoanswerthatquestionwasoneofthemostdifficulttaskseversether。Itsnewsmovedanddisturbedherdeeply。Underherwingthisdisasterhadhappened！Downherehadbeenwroughtthismostdeplorablemiracle，fraughtwithsuchdislocationoflives！Noel’sface，absorbedandpassionate，outsidethedoorofherroomonthenightwhenCyrilMorlandwentaway——herinstincthadbeenright！

"Hewantsyoutogoupandstaywithhim，Bob。"

"Whynotbothofus？"

"HewantsNollietocomedowntome;she’snotwell。"

"Notwell？What’sthematter？"

Totellhimseemeddisloyaltytohersex;nottotellhim，disloyaltytoherhusband。Asimpleconsiderationoffactandnotofprinciple，decidedher。Hewouldcertainlysayinamoment:’Here！Pitchitover！’andshewouldhaveto。Shesaidtranquilly:

"YourememberthatnightwhenCyrilMorlandwentaway，andNoelbehavedsostrangely。Well，mydear;sheisgoingtohaveachildatthebeginningofApril。Thepoorboyisdead，Bob;hediedfortheCountry。"

Shesawtheredtideflowupintohisface。

"What！"

"PoorEdwardisdreadfullyupset。Wemustdowhatwecan。Iblamemyself。"Byinstinctsheusedthosewords。

"Blameyourself？Stuff！Thatyoung——！"Hestopped。

Thirzasaidquietly:"No，Bob;ofthetwo，I’msureitwasNoel;shewasdesperatethatday。Don’tyourememberherface？Oh！thiswar！

It’sturnedthewholeworldupsidedown。That’stheonlycomfort;

nothing’snormal"

BobPiersonpossessedbeyondmostmenthesecretofhappiness，forhewasalwaysabsorbedinthemoment，tothepointofunself—

consciousness。Eatinganegg，cuttingdownatree，sittingonaTribunal，makinguphisaccounts，plantingpotatoes，lookingatthemoon，ridinghiscob，readingtheLessons——nopartofhimstoodasidetoseehowhewasdoingit，orwonderwhyhewasdoingit，ornotdoingitbetter。Hegrewlikeacork—tree，andactedlikeasturdyandwell—natureddog。Hisgriefs，angers，andenjoymentsweresimpleasachild’s，orashissomewhatnoisyslumbers。Theywerenotablywell—suited，forThirzahadthesamesecretofhappiness，thoughher，absorptioninthemomentdidnot——asbecameawoman——preventherbeingconsciousofothers;indeed，suchformedthechiefsubjectofherabsorptions。Onemightsaythattheyneitherofthemhadphilosophyyetwereasphilosophicacoupleasonecouldmeetonthisearthoftheself—conscious。Dailylifetothesetwowasstillofsimplesavour。Tobeabsorbedinlife——thequeerendlesstissueofmomentsandthingsfeltanddoneandsaidandmade，theoddinspiritingconjunctionsofcountlesspeople——wasnaturaltothem;

buttheyneverthoughtwhethertheywereabsorbedornot，orhadanyparticularattitudetoLifeorDeath——agreatblessingattheepochinwhichtheywereliving。

BobPierson，then，pacedtheroom，soabsorbedinhisdismayandconcern，thathewasalmosthappy。

"ByJove！"hesaid，"whataghastlything！

Nollie，ofallpeople！Ifeelperfectlywretched，Thirza;wretchedbeyondwords。"Butwitheachrepetitionhisvoicegrewcheerier，andThirzafeltthathewasalreadyovertheworst。

"Yourcoffee’sgettingcold！"shesaid。

"Whatdoyouadvise？ShallIgoup，heh？"

"Ithinkyou’llbeagodsendtopoorTed;you’llkeephisspiritsup。