Can't yo' feel I'm a right woman now?'
'Stop hugging me!' said Nurse Blaber. 'You don't know your strength. Finish the brandy and water. It's perfectly reasonable, and I'll lay long odds Mr. Conroy's case is something of the same. I've been thinking-'
'I wonder-' said Conroy, and pushed the girl back as she swayed again.
Nurse Blaber smoothed her pale hair. 'Yes. Your trouble, or something like it, happened somewhere on earth or sea to the mother who bore you. Ask her, child. Ask her and be done with it once for all.'
'I will,' said Conroy… 'There ought to be-' He opened his bag and hunted breathlessly.
'Bless you! Oh, God bless you, Nursey!' Miss Henschil was sobbing. 'You don't know what this means to me. It takes it all off-from the beginning.'
'But doesn't it make any difference to you now?' the nurse asked curiously. 'Now that you're rightfully a woman?'
Conroy, busy with his bag, had not heard. Miss Henschil stared across, and her beauty, freed from the shadow of any fear, blazed up within her. 'I see what you mean,' she said. 'But it hasn't changed anything. I want Toots. He has never been out of his mind in his life-except over silly me.'
'It's all right,' said Conroy, stooping under the lamp, Bradshaw in hand. 'If I change at Templecombe-for Bristol (Bristol-Hereford-yes) – I can be with mother for breakfast in her room and find out.'
'Quick, then,' said Nurse Blaber. 'We've passed Gillingham quite a while. You'd better take some of our sandwiches.' She went out to get them. Conroy and Miss Henschil would have danced, but there is no room for giants in a South-Western compartment.
'Good-bye, good luck, lad. Eh, but you've changed already-like me. Send a wire to our hotel as soon as you're sure,' said Miss Henschil. 'What should I have done without you?'
'Or I?' said Conroy. 'But it's Nurse that's saving us really.'
'Then thank her,' said Miss Henschil, looking straight at him. 'Yes, I would. She'd like it.'
When Nurse Blaber came back after the parting at Templecombe her nose and her eyelids were red, but, for all that, her face reflected a great light even while she sniffed over The Cloister and the Hearth.
Miss Henschil, deep in a house furnisher's catalogue, did not speak for twenty minutes. Then she said, between adding totals of best, guest, and servants' sheets, 'But why should our times have been the same, Nursey?'
'Because a child is born somewhere every second of the clock,' Nurse Blaber answered. 'And besides that, you probably set each other off by talking and thinking about it. You shouldn't, you know.'
'Ay, but you've never been in Hell,' said Miss Henschil.
The telegram handed in at Hereford at 12.46 and delivered to Miss Henschil on the beach of a certain village at 2.7 ran thus:
'"Absolutely confirmed. She says she remembers hearing noise of accident in engine-room returning from India eighty-five."'
'He means the year, not the thermometer,' said Nurse Blaber, throwing pebbles at the cold sea.
'"And two men scalded thus explaining my hoots." (The idea of telling me that!) "Subsequently silly clergyman passenger ran up behind her calling for joke, 'Friend, all is lost,' thus accounting very words."'
Nurse Blaber purred audibly.
'"She says only remembers being upset minute or two. Unspeakable relief. Best love Nursey, who is jewel. Get out of her what she would like best." Oh, I oughtn't to have read that,' said Miss Henschil.
'It doesn't matter. I don't want anything,' said Nurse Blaber, 'and if I did I shouldn't get it.'
'HELEN ALL ALONE'
There was darkness under Heaven
For an hour's space-
Darkness that we knew was given
Us for special grace.
Sun and moon and stars were hid,
God had left His Throne,
When Helen came to me, she did,
Helen all alone!
Side by side (because our fate
Damned us ere our birth)
We stole out of Limbo Gate
Looking for the Earth.
Hand in pulling hand amid
Fear no dreams have known,
Helen ran with me, she did,
Helen all alone!
When the Horror passing speech
Hunted us along,
Each laid hold on each, and each
Found the other strong.
In the teeth of things forbid
And Reason overthrown,
Helen stood by me, she did,
Helen all alone!
When, at last, we heard the Fires
Dull and die away,
When, at last, our linked desires
Dragged us up to day,
When, at last, our souls were rid
Of what that Night had shown,
Helen passed from me, she did,
Helen all alone!
Let her go and find a mate,
As I will find a bride,
Knowing naught of Limbo Gate
Or Who are penned inside.
There is knowledge God forbid
More than one should own.
So Helen went from me, she did,
Oh my soul, be glad she did!
Helen all alone!
The Honours of War
A hooded motor had followed mine from the Guildford Road up the drive to The Infant's ancestral hall, and had turned off to the stables.
'We're having a quiet evening together. Stalky's upstairs changing. Dinner's at 7.15 sharp, because we're hungry. His room's next to yours,' said The Infant, nursing a cobwebbed bottle of Burgundy.
Then I found Lieutenant-Colonel A.L. Corkran, I.A., who borrowed a collar-stud and told me about the East and his Sikh regiment.
'And are your subalterns as good as ever?' I asked.
'Amazin'-simply amazin'! All I've got to do is to find 'em jobs. They keep touchin' their caps to me and askin' for more work. 'Come at me with their tongues hangin' out. I used to run the other way at their age.'
'And when they err?' said I. 'I suppose they do sometimes?'
'Then they run to me again to weep with remorse over their virgin peccadilloes. I never cuddled my Colonel when I was in trouble. Lambs-positive lambs!'
'And what do you say to 'em?'
'Talk to 'em like a papa. Tell 'em how I can't understand it, an' how shocked I am, and how grieved their parents'll be; and throw in a little about the Army
