Part 41 (2/2)
”Mine isn't the absurd idea you think it is, and I'm not the grandmother you try to make me out. I'm going to be called on to serve the King in a position of great responsibility, where my example and my standards will affect many lives. I must be true to my responsibilities as I see them.
If I did what my feelings incline me to do--pray believe that I a.s.sume nothing as to yours--I shouldn't be true to them. Because in the regiment you wouldn't be understood--neither your position nor your convictions. What do most officers' wives, and what do most young men in the army, know about the sort of society or the sort of speculations which produce convictions like yours? They would neither understand nor appreciate them. And if they didn't--well, what opinion must they hold about you? And what effect would that opinion have? I don't speak of your position--that would be for you to consider--but what effect would it have on my position and my influence?”
”They'd just put me down as an ordinary--an ordinary bad woman?”
”Let's say the ordinary case of a woman who has made a scandal. Because I agree with you in thinking that such a woman needn't be a bad woman.
But even when she's not bad, she may in certain positions be injurious to the commonwealth--and a regiment's a commonwealth. I'm not clever, as my brother is. I'm not likely ever to get a bigger job than this. It'll be the most important trust I shall get, I expect. I want to be loyal to it. I'm being loyal to it at a great cost to me--yes, a great cost now.
And you try to make me look ridiculous! Well, let that pa.s.s. Only, feeling as I do, I want to put myself right in your eyes, before we say good-bye.”
”I'm sorry I tried to make you look ridiculous. Is that enough, Major Merriam?”
”It's something,” he smiled. ”But couldn't you go so far as not to think me ridiculous?”
”Have I got to think the officers' wives and the subalterns not ridiculous too?”
”I can leave that to your later reflections. They're not going to part from you to-morrow, and they don't care so much about your good opinion.”
”No, I don't think you ridiculous any more.” She spoke now slowly and thoughtfully. ”I didn't understand. I see better what you mean and feel now. Only understanding other people doesn't make the world seem any easier! But I think I do understand. The King pays you for your life, and you're bound to give it, not only in war, if that's required of you, but in peace too--is it something like that?”
”Yes, that's the sort of thing it is. Thank you.”
”And you mustn't do anything that makes the life he's bought less valuable to him either in war or peace?”
”Yes, that's it too.” He smiled at her more happily now and in a great kindness.
”In fact, you've sold yourself right out and quite irrevocably?”
”Ah, well, that's not quite the way I should put it. We Merriams have always done it.”
”Hereditary slaves!” smiled Winnie. ”It's really rather like marriage, as Cyril conceived it. You mustn't have another wife. The regiment's yours. It would be bigamy!”
”Charming people can talk great nonsense,” the Major made bold to observe. He was rather chilled again.
”We're veering round in this discussion. Now you're making out that I'm ridiculous!”
He made a gesture of protest. Winnie laughed. ”Six days ago I didn't care particularly about you, but I should have married you if you'd asked me.”
”So you told me why I'd better not ask you? Yes?”
”Now I like you very particularly, but nothing on earth would induce me to marry you,” said Winnie. She shot a quick glance of raillery at him.
”So, if you're struggling, you needn't struggle.”
”I am struggling rather, Winnie.”
”To-morrow ends it.”
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