Country life -- England -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"Please don’t think, dear Harry," she said, "that you owe me any
explanation of anything. I’ve had a long time to think it all out, you
know. I think I understand most things. Don’t you want it treated as
if it was all over now, and begin again, much as it was before? If so,
I want that too. We’ve got you at home now, and we want to be all happy
together."
His face cleared as he spoke. "It’s very good of you to put it like
that," he said. "Yes, of course I want it to be as much as possible
what it used to be as long as I can be here with you. There’s a good
deal I want to forget."
"I’m afraid you’ve been through a very hard time, Harry."
"Not harder than others, Granny. It’s not a bad thing to learn what you
have to learn in a hard school. Perhaps you learn it all the quicker."
There was a pause before she said: "It has troubled me a good deal—the
thought of your going straight from the life you lived here into the
ranks. It wasn’t that that we’d tried to prepare you for."
"Oh, the ranks!" he said. "You needn’t let that worry you, Granny. I’m
glad I went into the ranks. I’d rather do it that way than any."
She showed some surprise at this. "I’ve thought it over and over," she
said. "But I’ve never thought of it in that way. It was the roughness
and coarseness I hated for you. Isn’t that what you want to forget?"
He was silent for a time, looking down. Then he burst out: "It’s
learning what the beastliness of life is that I want to forget. That’s
what I’d never known. I never minded hard work—doing what others do.
And I doubt whether I should have been let down so easily with people
like myself—on the outside, I mean. No, I was nearer to the men who had
lived simpler lives. I understood them better than I should have done
the others. And they were good to me too. I don’t think I should have
wanted to get a commission if I hadn’t felt I ought to. I should have
been content to go on till the end of it. But now it’s all got to begin
again. Oh, don’t let’s talk of it. I’ve got a month here, where it’s
quiet and clean and beautiful. Let’s forget what’s past and what’s
coming. I never meant to talk of it. I only wanted to tell you what I
was going to do, and to thank you for letting me go my own way."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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