"Yes, I work for several days in succession, and then I have no ideas.
It is a pretty poor performance anyway--and is not likely to find a
publisher."
"You are content with your Secretary?"
This was said with an air of complete indifference. There was no meaning
in it of the kind Madame de Clerté would have instilled into the tone.
"Yes--she is wonderfully diligent--it is impossible to dislodge her for
a moment from her work. She thinks me a poor creature I expect."
The Duchesse's eyes, half closed now, were watching me keenly--.
"Why should she think that, Nicholas--you can't after all fight."
"No----but--."
"Get well, my boy--and these silly introspective fancies will leave
you--Self analysis all the time for those who sit still--they imagine
that they matter to the _Bon Dieu_ as much as a _Corps d'Armée_--!"
"You are right, Duchesse, that is why I said Miss Sharp--my
typist--probably thinks me a poor creature--she gets at my thoughts when
I dictate."
"You must master your thoughts----"
And then with a total change of subject she remarked.
"Thou art not in love, Nicholas?"
I felt a hot flush rise to my face--What an idiotic thing to do--more
silly than a girl--Again how I resent physical weakness reacting on my
nerves.
"In love!"--I laughed a little angrily--"With whom could I possibly be
in love, _chère amie_?! You would not suggest that Odette or Coralie or
Alice could cause such an emotion!"
"Oh! for them perhaps no--they are for the senses of men--they are the
exotic flowers of this forcing time--they have their uses--although I
myself abhor them as types--but--is there no one else?"
"Solonge de Clerté?--Daisy Ryven?--both with husbands--."
"Not as if that prevented things" the Duchesse announced
reflectively--"Well, well--Some of my _blessés_ show just your symptoms,
Nicholas, and I discover almost immediately it is because they are in
love--with the brain--with the imagination you must understand--that is
the only dangerous kind--. When it is with a pretty face alone--a good
dose and a new book helps greatly."
"There would be no use in my being in love, Duchesse--"
"It would depend upon the woman--you want sympathy and a guiding
hand--_Va!_--"
Sympathy and a guiding hand!
"I liked ruling and leading when I was a man--"
"----We all have our ups and downs--I like my own bed--but last night
an extra batch of _blessés_ came in--and I had to give it up to one
whose back was a mass of festers--he would have lain on the floor
else--. What will you--_hein?_--We have to learn to accommodate
ourselves to conditions, my son."
Suddenly the picture of this noble woman's courage came to me vividly,
her unvarying resourcefulness--her common sense--her sympathy with
humanity--her cheerfulness--I never heard her complain or repine, even
when fate took her only son at Verdun--Such as these are the glory of
France--and Coralie and Odette and Alice seemed to melt into
nothingness--.
"The war will be finished this autumn--" she told me presently--"and
then our difficult time will begin--. Quarrels for all the world--Not
good fighting--But you will live to see a Renaissance, Nicholas--and so
prepare for it."
"What can I do, dear friend--If you knew how much I want to do
something!"
"Your first duty is to get well.--Have yourself patched
together--finished so to speak, and then marry and found a family to
take the place of all who have perished. It was good taste when I was
young not to have too many--but now!--France wants children--and
England too. There is a duty for you, Nicholas!"