XII
On Wednesday morning I received a reply from Maurice at Deauville--hehastened to answer he said--He had heard of Miss Sharp through a man inthe American Red Cross, where Miss Sharp had been employed. He knewnothing more about her, he had seen her once when he was interviewingher, and Miss whatever the other woman's name was, he had forgottennow--and he had thought her suitable and plain and capable, that is all.
I had tried to word my letter not to give the impression of peculiarinterest, but no doubt Coralie, who had returned to the band on Monday,had given him her view of the case, for he added that these people wereoften designing although they looked simple--and in my loneliness hefelt sure I would be happier and better at the sea with my friends--!
I would have been angry, only there was something humorous in the wayeveryone seems to think I am incapable of managing my own affairs!--Whatis it they all want of me--? Not that I should be happy in my own way,but that I should contribute to their happiness--they want toparticipate in what my money is able to procure--and they do not wantinterference from outside. Every one of my friends--and relations--wouldbe hostile if I were to announce that I was in love with Miss Sharp, andwanted to marry her--Even though it was proved to them that she waspretty--a perfect lady--intelligent--virtuous--clever! She is not oftheir set and might, and probably would, be a stumbling block in theirpath when they wished to make use of me!--so she would be taboo! None ofthem would put it in that way of course, their opposition would be (andthey might even think they were sincere) because they were thinking of_my_ happiness!
Burton is the only person whose sympathy I could count upon!
How about the Duchesse?--that is the deepest mystery of all--I must findout from Burton what was the date about when she came to my_appartement_ and found Alathea. Was it before that time when she askedme if I were in love--and I saw that dear little figure in thepassage?--Could she have been thinking of her--?
By Thursday when there was no further news I began to feel so restlessthat I determined to go back to Paris the following week. It was allvery well to be out in the _parc_ at Versailles with a mind at ease, butit feels too far away when I am so troubled.
I sent Burton in on Friday to Auteuil--.
"Just walk about near the wine shop, Burton, and try to find out byevery clue your not unintelligent old pate can invent, where Miss Sharplives, and what is happening? Then go to the Hotel de Courville and chatwith the concierge--or whatever you think best--I simply can't standhearing nothing!"
Burton pulled in his lips.
"Very good, Sir Nicholas."
I tried to correct my book in the afternoon. I really am trying to dothe things I feel she thinks would improve my character--But I am onegnawing ache for news--Underneath is the fear that some complication mayoccur which will prevent her returning to me. I find myself listening toevery footstep in the passage in case it might be a telegram, so ofcourse quite a number of messages and things were bound to come fromutterly uninteresting sources, to fill me with hope and then disappointme--It is always like that. I really was wild on Friday afternoon, andif George Harcourt had not turned up--he is at the Trianon Palace nowwith the Supreme War Council--I don't know what I should have done withmyself. Lots of those fellows would come and dine with me if I wantedthem--some are even old pals--but I am out of tune with my kind.
George was very amusing.
"My dear boy," he said, "Violetta is upsetting all my calculations--shehas refused everything I have offered her--But I fear she is beginningto show me too much devotion!"
This seemed a great calamity to him.
"It is terribly dangerous that, Nicholas!--because you know, my dearboy, when a woman shows absolute devotion, a man is irresistiblyimpelled to offer her a back seat--it is when she appeals to his senses,shows him caprice, and remains an insecure possession, that he willoffer her the place his mother held of highest honour."
"George, you impossible cynic!"
"Not at all--I am merely a student of human instincts andcharacteristics--Half a cynic is a poor creature--A complete one hasalmost reached the mercy and tolerance of Christ."
This was quite a new view of the subject--!
He went on--.
"You see, when men philosophize about women, they are generally unjust,taking the subject from the standpoint that whatever frailties theyhave, the male is at all events exempt from them. Now that isnonsense--Neither sex is exempt--and neither sex as a rule willcontemplate or admit its failings.--For instance, the sense of abstracttruth in the noblest woman never prevents her lying _for_ her lover orher child, yet she thinks herself quite honest--In the noblest man thesense is so strong that it enables him to make only the one exception,that of invariably lying _to_ the woman!"
I laughed--he puffed one of my pre-war cigars--.
"Women have no natural sense of truth--they only rise to it throughsublime effort,"--
"And men?"
"It is ingrained in them, they only sink from it to cover their naturalinstincts of infidelity."
His voice was contemplative now--.
"How we lie to the little darlings, Nicholas! How we tell them we haveno time to write--when of course we have always time if we really wantto--we never are at a loss for the moments before the creatures are asecure possession!"
"The whole thing gets back to the hunting instinct, my dear George--Ican't see that one can be blamed for it--."
"I am not blaming, I am merely analysing. Have you remarked that when aman feels perfectly secure about the woman he will give his hours ofduty to his country, his hours of leisure to his friends who flatterhim, and the crumbs snatched from either to the poor lady of his heart!But if she excites his senses, and remains problematic, he will skimphis duty, neglect his friends, and snatch even hours from sleep to spendthem in her company!"
"You don't think then that there is something higher and beyond all thisin love, George?--something which you and I have never come acrossperhaps?"
"If one met a woman who was all man in mind, all woman in body, and allchild in soul--it is possible--but where are these phoenixes to bediscovered, my son?--It is wiser not to dissatisfy oneself by thinkingof them--but just go on accepting that which is always accorded to thevery rich!--By the way, I saw Suzette la Blonde dining last night withold Solly Jesse--_Monsieur le Comte Jesse!_--She had a new string ofpearls on and was stroking his fat hand, while her lips curled withlove--I thought--??"
I lay back in my chair and laughed and laughed--And I had imagined thatSuzette really felt for me, and would grieve for at least a week ortwo--but I am replaced in four days--!
I do not think I even felt bitter--all those things seem so far awaynow.
When George had gone, I said to myself--"All man in mind"--yes I am sureshe is--"All woman in body"--Certainly that--"All child in soul"--I wantto know about her soul--if we have souls, as Nina says--by the way, Iwill send a messenger into the Ritz with a note to ask Nina to spend theday with me to-morrow. We have got accustomed to the impossibledifficulty of telephoning to Paris, and waiting hours for telegrams--amessenger is the quickest in the end.
How the war drags on--! Will it really finish this year afterall--people are very depressed these last days--I do not write of any ofthis in my journal--others will chronicle every shade--When I let myselfthink of it I grow too wild. I become feverish with longing to be up andwith the old regiment--When I read of their deeds--then I growrebellious.
* * * * *
_Monday:_
No news--yet--It is unbearable--Burton returned from Auteuil with noclue whatsoever--except that the _concierge_ at the Hotel de Courvillehad never heard of the name of Sharp! That proves to me that "Sharp" isnot Alathea's name at all. He was a newcomer--and there were so manyyoung ladies who came and went to see Madame la Duchesse that he couldnot identify anyone in particular by description.
Nina turned up early on Saturday in time for lunch--She was lookingravishing in entirely n
ew clothes--like Suzette, she has found that the"_geste_" is altering--Germans may be attacking Paris--Friends andrelations may be dying in heaps, but women must have new clothes andfashion must have her say as to their shapes--And what a mercy it is so!If there was nothing to relieve war and seriousness--all the nationswould be raving lunatics by now.
"Jim will be crazy about you, Nina, when he sees you in that hat!"
"Yes, won't he! I put it on to make you crazy now!"
"Of course I always am!"
"No, Nicholas--you were once--but you are altered, some quite newinfluence has come into your life--you don't say half such horridthings."
We lunched in the restaurant. Some of the Supreme War Council were aboutat the different tables, and we exchanged a few words--Nina preferred itto my sitting-room.
"Englishmen do look attractive in uniform, Nicholas, don't they," shesaid--. "I wonder if I had seen Jim in ordinary things if I would havebeen so drawn to him?"
"Who knows? Do you remember how sensible you were about him andRochester!--it is splendid that it has turned out so well."
" ... Where is happiness, Nicholas?" and her eyes became dreamy,--"Ihave a well balanced nature, and am grateful for what has been given mein Jim, but I can't pretend that I have found perfect content--becausesome part of me is always hungry--. I believe really that you were theonly person who could have fulfilled all I wanted in a man!"
"Nina, you had not the least feeling for me when you first saw me afterI was wounded, do you remember you felt like a sister--a mother--and afamily friend!"
"Yes, was not that odd!--because of course the things which used toattract me in you and which could again now, were there all the time."
"At that moment you were so occupied with 'Jim's blue eyes,' and his'white nice teeth,' and 'how his hair was brushed,' and 'how well hisuniform fitted'--to say nothing of his D.S.O. and his M.C. that youcould not appreciate anything else."
"You have a V.C., your teeth are divine, and you too have blue eyes,Nicholas--."
"Eye--please,--the singular or plural in this case makes all thedifference, but I shall have my new one in fairly soon now and thenillusion will help me!"
Nina sighed--.
"Illusion! I am just not going to think of what perhaps might havehappened if I had not been surrounded with illusion, last February--."
"Well, you can always have the satisfaction of knowing that as yourinterest in Jim diminishes, so his will increase--George Harcourt and Ithrashed it all out the other day--and you yourself admitted it, when wedined. To keep the hunting instinct alive is the thing--You will havethe fondest lover when you go back to Queen Street, Nina!"
"I--suppose so--. But would it not be wonderful if one had not to playany game, but could just love and be so satisfied with each other thatthere would not be any fear--."
Nina's eyes were sad--Did she remember my words at our last meeting?
"Yes that would be heaven!"
"Is that what you are dreaming about, Nicholas?"
"Perhaps."
"What a fortunate woman she will be!--And of yourself, what shall yougive her?"
"I shall give her passion--and tenderness, and protection, anddevotion--she shall share the thoughts of my mind and the aspirations ofmy soul--."
"Nicholas!--you talking in this romantic way--she must be a miracle!"
"No--she is just a little girl."
"And it is she who has made you think about souls?"
"I expect so--."
"Well, I must not think of them, or of anything but what a good time weshall all have when the war is over, and what nice things I've bought inParis--and of how good-looking Jim is--Let us talk of something else!"
So we spoke of every-day matters--and then we went into the _parc_--andNina stayed by my bath chair and amused me. But she does not knowanything about Versailles or its history--and she cannot makepsychological deductions--and all the time I was understanding with onepart of me that her hat was awfully becoming, and everything about herperfect; and with another part I was seeing that her brain islimited--and that if I had married her I should have been bored todeath!
And when the evening came and she left me, after our long day, I felt asense of relief--Oh! there can be no one in the world like myAlathea--with her little red hands, and cheap cotton garments! I realizenow that life used to be made up of the physical--and thatsomething,--perhaps suffering, has taught me that the mental and thespiritual matter more.
Even if she does come back--how am I to break through the wall of icewhich she has surrounded herself with since the Suzette chequebusiness?--I can't explain--she won't even know that I have parted withher.
Of course she has heard the fluffies often in the next room when theyhave come to play bridge in the afternoon. Perhaps she may even haveheard the idiotic things they talk about--yes--of course she must havean awful impression of me--.
The contrast of her life and theirs--and mine! I shall go on with myPlato--it bores me--it is difficult, and I am tired--but _I will_!.