首页 >出版文学> Saint’s Progress>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。