Part 15 (1/2)
”But there's more than that. My mother tied me by a promise. And people are calling me a coward--even Dad thinks I am a slacker, and I can't say to him, 'If you were more than the half of a man I might be a whole one.'”
”Your mother couldn't have foreseen this war.”
”It would have made no difference. Her world was centered in him. You know, of course, Doctor, that I wouldn't have spoken of this to anyone else--”
”My dear fellow, I am father confessor to half of my patients.” The Doctor's eyes were kind. ”My lips will be sealed. But if you want my advice I should throw the old man overboard. Let him sink or swim.
Your life is your own.”
”It has never been my own.” He went to a desk and took out an envelope. ”It's a rather sacred letter, but I want you to read it--I read it for the first time last night.”
When at last the Doctor laid the letter down, Derry said very low, ”Do you blame me?”
”My dear fellow; she had no right to ask it.”
”But having asked--?”
”It is a moving letter, and you loved her--but I still contend she had no right to ask.”
”I gave my sacred word.”
”I question whether any promise should stand between a man and his country's need of him.”
They faced each other. ”I wonder--” Derry said, ”I--I must think it over, Doctor.”
”Give yourself a chance if you do. We can go too far in our sacrifice for others--.” He resumed his brisk professional manner. ”In the meantime you've a rather sick old gentleman on your hands. You'd better get a nurse.”
CHAPTER VII
HILDA
The argument came up at breakfast two days before Thanksgiving. It was a hot argument. Jean beat her little hands upon the table. Hilda's hands were still, but it was an irritating stillness.
”What do you think, Daddy?”
”Hilda is right. There is no reason why we should go to extremes.”
”But a turkey--.”
”n.o.body has said that we shouldn't have a turkey on Thanksgiving--not even Hoover.” Hilda's voice was as irritating as her hands.
”Well, we have consciences, Hilda. And a turkey would choke me.”
”You make so much of little things.”
”Is it a little thing to sacrifice our appet.i.tes?”
”I don't think it is a very big thing.” The office bell rang, and Hilda rose. ”If I felt as you do I should sacrifice something more than things to eat. I'd go over there and nurse the wounded. I could be of real service. But you couldn't. With all your big ideas of patriotism you couldn't do one single practical thing.”