England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- England -- Fiction
"The young ones know that, and they clutch the most frantically. That is
what I am seeing in young eyes everywhere. Mere instinct makes it
so--mere uncontrollable instinct which takes the form of a sort of
desperateness at facing the thousand chances of death before they have
lived. They don't know it isn't actual fear of bullets and shrapnel.
Sometimes they're afraid it's fear and it makes them sick at themselves
and determined to grin and hide it. But it isn't fear--it's furious
Nature protesting."
"There are hasty bridals and good-bye marriages being made in all
ranks," Coombe put in. "They are inevitable."
"God help the young things--those of them who never meet again--and
perhaps, also, some of those who do. The nation ought to take care of
the children. If there is a nation left, God knows they will be needed,"
the Duchess said. "One of my footmen who 'joined up' has revealed an
unsuspected passion for a housemaid he used to quarrel with, and who
seemed to detest him. I have three women in my household who have
soldier lovers in haste to marry them. I shall give them my blessing and
take care of the wives when they are left behind. One can be served by
old men and married women--and one can turn cottages into small
orphanages if the worst happens."
There was a new vigour in her splendid old face and body.
"There is a reason now why I am the Dowager Duchess of Darte," she went
on, "and why I have money and houses and lands. There is a reason why I
have lived when it sometimes seemed as if my usefulness was over. There
are uses for my money--for my places--for myself. Lately I have found
myself saying, as Mordecai said to Esther, 'Who knowest whether thou art
not come to the kingdom for such a time as this.' A change is taking
place in me too. I can do more because there is so much more to do. I
can even use my hands better. Look at them."
She held them out that he might see them--her beautiful old-ivory
fingers, so long stiffened by rheumatism. She slowly opened and shut
them.
"I can move them more--I have been exercising them and having them
rubbed. I want to be able to knit and sew and wait on myself and perhaps
on other people. Because I have been a rich, luxurious old woman it has
not occurred to me that there were rheumatic old women who were forced
to do things because they were poor--the things I never tried to do. I
have begun to try."
She let her hands fall on her lap and sat gazing up at him with a rather
strange expression.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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