Man and Maid

I wish to God I knew.

She will never marry me unless I give my word of honour that the thing

will only be an empty ceremony--of that I feel sure even if

circumstances aid me to force her into doing this much. And then one has

to keep one's word of honour. And might not that be a greater hell than

I am now in of suffering?

Perhaps I had better go to the sea--like Suzette--and try to break the

whole chain and forget her--.

I rang the bell for Burton then, and told him of my new plan, as he put

me to bed. We would go off to St. Malo,--for a week, and I gave orders

that he should make the necessary arrangements to get permits. To travel

anywhere now is no end of a difficulty.

I wrote to Alathea without weakening--I asked her to collect the Mss.

and make notes of what she thought still should be altered--during my

absence--I wrote as stiffly, and in as business like a manner as

possible--and finally I went to sleep, and slept better than I have done

for some time.

* * * * *

St. Malo: How quaint these places are! I am at this deserted corner by the

sea--where the hotel is comfortable, and hardly touched by the war--I am

not happy--the air is doing me good, that is all--I have brought

books--I am not trying to write--I just read and endeavor to sleep--and

the hours pass. I tell myself continually that I am no more interested

in Alathea--that I am going to get well, and go back to England--that I

have emerged, and am a man with a free will once more--and I am a great

deal better--.

After all, how absurd to be thinking of a woman, from morning to night!

When I get my new leg, and everything is all healed, up in a year or

two, shall I be able to ride again?--Of course I shall, no doubt, and

even play a little tennis?--I can shoot anyway--if we will be allowed to

preserve partridges and pheasants when the war is over in England.

Yes, of course life is a gorgeous thing--I like the fierce wind to blow

in my face--and yesterday, much to Burton's displeasure, I went out

sailing--.

How could I be such a fool, he inferred--as to chance a wrench putting

me back some months again--But one has to chance things occasionally. I

never enjoyed a sail more because of this very knowledge.

* * * * *

A week has passed since we came to this end of the earth--and again I

have grown restless--perhaps it is because Burton came in just now with

a letter in his hand--. I recognized immediately Alathea's writing.