‘No; I wasn’t thinking about a war; I had forgotten that; but
I feel afraid of something, I don’t know what. I believe George
felt it too.’
He said:
‘Nonsense, you are tired, that is all; it is awfully tiring going
out in the evening; I am tired too.’
He put his arm round me and drew me close to him. I wanted to
feel near to him, but I did not; I felt a long way off.
Two days later, we went up to Northumberland, to the farm-house
on the Roman Wall, where we had stayed before.
We had a great deal of luggage, a cot and a pram, and a baby’s
bath. I felt very proud of travelling with those things, but
Walter did not like it.
‘It is awful,’ he said, ‘this family luggage. I suppose it will
be like this now—for years!’
I minded that. It seemed to me sometimes that he resented Eleanor,
that he would almost rather she were not there; I had hoped he
would be pleased with her, as I was.
At the farm it was better; Walter liked being there; he went
for long walks again, as we had done on our honeymoon. I could
not go with him now, when he went a very long way, but I was
happy at home with my baby.