“_An aristocratic body firmly rooted in the national soil is
not only the permanent guarantee of the security of the State,
but resembles, as it were, a man better instructed than his
fellows--more prompt, possessed of ample means, and yet entrusted
with power: a man moreover who never dies._”
_February 2nd,_ 19--.--To-day is the Purification. The lawn looked
lovely under its veil of snow, and the vicar came in to lunch. We
did not discuss the question of the service, because I know that
Reuben disapproves of it. The vicar told me that Mrs. Burpham is
in dreadful trouble. It seems that the Bank at Molesworth refused
to cash Algernon’s cheque, and that this led Sir Henry Murling
to make investigations about the Chattington affair, so that he
had to be asked to resign his commission. To be sure it is only
in the Militia, but if it all comes out, it will be terrible for
the Monsons. They have already had to dismiss two servants on
these grounds. Jane has a sore throat, and I made her gargle some
turpentine and oil; Ali Baba’s[13] hock is still sore. I do hope
I shall keep my old servants, it is an unwelcome thing to dismiss
them in their old age and the house is never the same again. They
meet to-morrow at Gumpton corner, but not if this weather holds.
_February 3rd,_ 19--.--It is thawing. There are marks of boots
across the lawn on what is left of the snow, and I am afraid some
one must have gone across it. I wish Reuben would come back.
Called at Mrs. Burpham’s, who is in dreadful trouble. Algernon has
gone up to town to see his solicitor. Poor Mrs. Burpham was crying;
she is so proud of her boy. He says it will be all right. They are
very bitter against the Bank, and Sir Henry, and the regiment, and
the Monsons. I fear they may quarrel with Binston Park[14] also.
Mrs. Burpham was so curious about them; Jane is no better.
_February 4th,_ 19--.--Reuben came home suddenly by the 2.40 with
Mr. Ehrenbreitstein and Lord Tenterworth. He asked me to put Mr.
Ehrenbreitstein in the Blue room and Lord Tenterworth in the Parrot
room opposite the broom and pail place, where Aunt Marjory used
to sleep. I shall have to clear the clothes out of the drawers.
Just before dinner Mr. Bischoffen came in from the station. Reuben
told me he had asked him. I wish he would give me longer notice.
He brought a secretary with him who cannot talk English. I think
he must be a Spaniard--he is so dark. Jane can hardly speak, her
throat is so bad; I told her she might stay in bed to-morrow till
nine.
_February 5th,_ 19--.--Mrs. Burpham is certainly in dreadful
trouble. She tells me Algernon has written from St. Malo saying it
will be all right. It was very foolish and imprudent of him to go
over there just now with all this trouble on with France. If only
he had stayed at home (Mrs. Burpham says) she would not have minded
so much, but she is afraid of his getting killed. It seems they are
so savage at St. Malo.[15] Only the other day an English lady had
a stone thrown in her direction in the street. Mr. Bischoffen’s
secretary is not a Spaniard; I think he is a Pole; his name is
Brahms. There was a difficulty about the asparagus last night. It
seems the Germans do not eat it with their fingers. Reuben said I
ought to have got little silver pincers for it. I remember seeing
them in his father’s house, but papa said they were very vulgar.
_Then_ Reuben used to apologise for them, and say that his people
were old fashioned, which was nonsense, of course. I reminded
Reuben of this, and he said, “Ach! Gott!” and I had to leave the
room. Ali Baba is all right; he took a piece of sugar from my hand;
but when I felt his hock he kicked Jones severely. I fear Jones
is really injured, and I have sent for Dr. Minton and for the
veterinary surgeon.
_February 6th,_ 19--.--Dr. Minton dined here last night before
going to set Jones’ leg, and I gave the veterinary surgeon supper
in the old schoolroom. I am afraid Dr. Minton took too much wine,
for he quarrelled with Mr. Ehrenbreitstein and Mr. Bischoffen
about the danger of war with France. He said they had no right to
speak, and got quite excited. Called again on Mrs. Burpham, and
only appreciated fully to-day in what sad trouble she is. Algernon
has telegraphed from Paris saying it will be all right. Meanwhile
she has certainly quarrelled with Binston Park, and she even spoke
bitterly against the Duke, so that means another family gone--for
the Duke is very proud. I see in the _Standard_ that our Ambassador
has delivered an ultimatum, and that the French are doing all they
can to shirk war. That is what Mr. Bischoffen and Reuben said they
would do, but they must be taught a lesson. Newfoundlands have
fallen, but Reuben says they must rise after the war. I do hope
they will. The dear Bishop called. He says this war is a judgment
on the French. Jane is much better, and can talk quite clearly, and
Ali Baba is almost well. Also it has thawed now completely, and
they can meet on Saturday as usual, so things are looking up all
round.
_February 7th,_ 19--.--Freddie goes to the Isle of Wight with
the Lambtonshire Regiment, and Mrs. Burpham and the Bishop are
both delighted, because it will bring him and Hepworth together.
It would be such a solace to poor Mrs. Burpham if Freddie could
see active service and get promotion; it would help to wipe out
Algernon’s disgrace, for I fear there is now no doubt of it,
though he says it is all right in his last letter, which is from
Marseilles. Letters still come through from France, because our
Ambassador said that if any tricks were played with them he would
hold the French Government personally responsible, and so cowed
them. The Bishop has gone to London with his family.
_February 8th,_ 19--.--The _Standard_ has a large map of the North
of France, where the fighting will be. It is very interesting.
Reuben and his friends have gone up to town again. I saw the
Reserves marching through Molesworth to-day; they are going to
garrison Portsmouth.[16] The afternoon post did not come in. Reuben
said he would telegraph, but I have not got any message. The 12.40
train was an hour late, so I suppose everything is upset by the
war. Maria will have to come home by Bâle, and I do so dread the
passage from Ostend for her; even the hour from Calais to Dover is
more than she can bear. The vicar says that our Government will
force the French to keep the Dover-Calais route open for civilians.
He says it would be against the practice of civilised warfare to
close it, and if that were done we should lay waste the whole
country; but I fear he does not know much about the legal aspect
of the thing: it is his heart, not his head that speaks. It is
dreadful to think what I shall do with Mademoiselle[17] when she
comes home with Maria. One can’t blame her when one thinks that it
is her own country that is going to be harried and her own brothers
brought here as prisoners; but it will be very difficult all the
same. The man who was killed at Bigley races was not a Frenchman
after all: the crowd only thought he was because he had blacked his
face like a negro. It seems that Sir Henry was very hard in court,
and said that the ringleaders were lucky not to be indicted for
manslaughter. It has frozen again, and it is very slippery in the
drive. They are having fireworks or something at Portsmouth, to
judge by the sound. Jones told Jane he thought there was a bonfire
as well, because he could see a glare now and then in the sky from
the window in his room. His leg is setting nicely.