Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
And, joking
apart, women would be very useful out here. We are going to have a lot
of sick to begin with, and then the misery of the poor folk in town
and village is appalling. However, I suppose England must have time to
turn round and yawn before she wakes up to anything."
Marrion Paul got that letter early one June morning. She laid it down
among the muslins and laces and went to the window. The street was
empty, but she saw, as clearly as if he had really been there,
Marmaduke Muir's buoyant figure going forth to war, full of hope and
confidence.
She never took long making up her mind; and, absolutely without ties
as she was, there were few factors to be considered. Her business was
such a personal one that she had only herself to consult. She had
money and to spare in the bank. Finally, within her heart was the same
spirit of adventure, the same disregard of conventionalities which had
always attracted her in Marmaduke.
Last of all his stockings were not adequately mended.
She laughed aloud at the whimsical thought, for she had no intention
of thrusting herself upon him. But she could be near at hand, and she,
at any rate, need not turn round and yawn before she realised that
women could help.
So quietly, methodically, she set matters in train to get all the work
she had in hand speedily finished. She wrote declining a few orders
that had come in, and then set off with one of her daintiest little
creations to see the wife of the Turkish ambassador, who happened to
be one of her customers.
But, indeed, as Mrs. Marsden, of the "_Layettes_," she could command
plenty of backstairs influence.
The result being that in less than a week she was stepping into the
Dover boat on her way to Marseilles, that being the quickest route to
Constantinople. She carried with her credentials from the ambassador's
family, which she meant to use, if necessary, though she hoped to be
able to do without them, as anything in the nature of publicity might
prevent her carrying out her plan of reaching Varna without Marmaduke
being aware of the fact. As a precaution she wrote to him the day she
left, telling him not to expect further news from her for a few weeks
as she had decided on attempting a cure for her lameness, which a
clever young hospital doctor had advised, but which involved a long
rest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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