England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- England -- Fiction
The tidal wave swept on and the uninitiated who formed the mass of
humanity in every country in the world, reading with feverish anxiety
almost hourly newspaper extras every day, tried to hide a secret fear
that no one knew what was really happening or could trust to the
absolute truth of any spoken or published statement. The exultant hope
of to-day was dashed to-morrow. The despair of the morning was lightened
by gleams of hope before night closed, and was darkened and lightened
again and again. Great cities and towns aroused themselves from a
half-somnolent belief in security. Village by village England awakened
to what she faced in common with an amazed and half incredulous world.
The amazement and incredulity were founded upon a certain mistaken
belief in a world predominance of the laws of decency and civilisation.
The statement of piety and morality that the world in question was a
bad one, filled with crime, had somehow so far been accepted with a
guileless reservation in the matter of a ruling majority whose lapses
from virtue were at least not openly vaunted treachery, blows struck at
any unprepared back presenting itself, merciless attacks on innocence
and weakness, and savage gluttings of lust, of fury, with exultant paeans
of self-glorification and praise of a justly applauding God. Before such
novelty of onslaught the British mind had breathless moments of feeling
itself stupid and incapably aghast. But after its first deep draughts of
the cup of staggering the nation braced up a really muscular back and
stood upon hard, stout legs and firm feet, immovable and fixed on solid
British earth.
Incompetent raw troops gathered from fields, shops and desks, half
trained, half clad, half armed, according to pessimistic report, fared
forth across the narrow Channel and did strangely competent things--this
being man's way when in dire moments needs must be. Riff-raff exalted
itself and also died competently enough. The apparently aimless male
offspring of the so-called useless rich and great died competently
enough with the rest. The Roll of Honour raked fore and aft. The
youngsters who had tangoed best and had shone in _cabarets_ were swept
away as grass by scythes.
"Will any one be left?" white Robin shuddered, clinging to Donal in the
wood at night. "Every day there are new ones. Almost every one who has
gone! Kathryn says that no one--_no one_ will ever come back!"
"Hush--sh! Hush--sh!" whispered Donal. "Hush--sh! little lovely love!"
And his arms closed so tightly around her that she could for a few
moments scarcely breathe.
The Duchess had much work for her to do and was glad to see that the
girl looked well and untired. When she was at home in Eaton Square her
grace was even more strict about the walks and country holidays than she
had been when she was away.
"Health and strength were never so much needed," she said. "We must keep
our bodies in readiness for any test or strain."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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