SO AS BY FIRE
"BUT Henry cannot go; it is absurd! He never shot a gun in his life and
besides I--" Frieda hesitated; her face flushing; yet she was trying to
speak calmly.
She and Olive and Jack and Frank Kent were in the library at Kent House
with Captain MacDonnell talking one morning, several weeks since the
afternoon tea and during, perhaps, the most momentous week in all
history.
"I think you must be mistaken about your husband's being unable to
shoot, Frieda," Lord Kent answered dryly. "As a matter of fact I believe
he is an expert; he told me himself that he had taken prizes for
marksmanship when he was a boy, but had never cared to use his skill for
hunting. As for your saying he can't go; well, the truth is, Frieda,
Professor Russell has already gone. He came in to see me a few days ago
to say that he had volunteered and was about to be sent somewhere in
France."
Frank had not intended to be unkind. So many things had happened and
were happening every crowded second of the time that he was simply
forgetting to think of the individual. However, under the circumstances,
he did not suppose that Frieda would care very much what became of her
husband.
"You mean that Henry has joined the army--that he has crossed over to
France without asking me how I would feel--without even coming to say
good-bye," Frieda returned slowly. And suddenly even her brother-in-law
observed the change in her expression. It was strange to see Frieda with
her face paling; her full, red lips closed tight and her blue eyes dark
and strained.
"But, my dear child, how could your husband come to say good-bye to you
when you have been steadfastly refusing to see him for weeks?" Frank
continued, still a little impatient over feminine unreasonableness. "He
told me to tell you his plans and that he had made all arrangements in
case--"
But, that instant, catching a warning glance from his wife, Lord Kent
changed color over his own tactlessness and desisted. This was a time
when everybody's nerves were overstrained; when hearts were torn to
pieces and imaginations were picturing only horrors.
"Won't you motor down to the station with me, please, Jack?" Lord Kent
added, hastily, anxious to get away as soon as possible from the
situation he had created.
Jack slipped on a long tan coat and soft hat and went with her husband,
leaving Olive to look after Frieda.
"Bryan is expecting to be here again this afternoon for a farewell
visit, dear. He has been delayed for some reason or other but hopes to
leave with his regiment tomorrow," Frank announced on the way to his
train. "Do you know I think Bryan is a lucky fellow these days, not to
have anyone very close to him--anyone who cares very much what becomes
of him. Oh, of course, I should care, more than I like to think; but I
mean no mother or father--no family."
"I should also care a great deal, Frank," Jack interrupted quietly.
But Lord Kent went on, scarcely hearing her.
"It is a funny thing that Bryan has never married. He is an uncommonly
fascinating fellow. Of course, he hasn't much money; but that ought not
to stand in his way. He has his profession. Queer, when he was a boy he
used to talk about being an artist; but there is a lot of difference
between an artist and a soldier. He must be glad now of his choice.
Sometimes I think Bryan has never married because he has never seen any
woman as attractive as you are. He has almost said as much to me."
Jack shook her head almost angrily. "That is nonsense, Frank. After all,
you know Bryan is pretty young; there is no use talking as if he were a
confirmed old bachelor."
After lunch that same afternoon Captain MacDonnell rode over to Kent
House. He was wearing his service uniform of khaki--the short military
coat, the full trousers drawn close at the knees and the high boots. He
also wore the British officer's cap with the small visor and the other
marks of his rank.
Hearing the sound of his horse approaching, Jack went out on the veranda
to greet him. Frieda was upstairs in her room and Olive was writing
letters to Ruth Colter and Jean at the Rainbow Ranch.
In her arms Jack carried her baby, with whom she had been playing.
Indeed, ever since the news of war, some member of the family had
seemed to wish to hold Vive, for her baby softness and sweetness was in
some way a consolation.
Jack had her baby's little yellow head pressed close against her bronze
colored hair and made the baby wave its hand to the young officer as he
drew nearer.
When he came up to them on the veranda he kissed Vive's tiny hand.
"May I have one of Vive's blue ribbons to tie in my buttonhole, please,
Lady Jacqueline?" he asked. "Lady Jacqueline" being a title which
Captain MacDonnell had originated for Jack, but which many other people
also used. "Every knight, when he went off to the wars in the old days,
wore his lady's colors. I should like to have Vive for my lady."
Jack felt her fingers trembling a little as she unfastened the ribbon
from her baby's sleeve and gave it to her friend.
"Won't you take a farewell ride with me this afternoon, Jack?" Captain
MacDonnell asked the next instant. "It will be the best way to manage
our good-bye."
For just the fraction of a second Jack hesitated. Yet, in that time, she
had a sufficient opportunity to think over the entire situation.
Captain MacDonnell had not asked her to ride with him since the
afternoon, when her recklessness had displeased Frank. Since then she
had never attempted to persuade Frank that his demand, that she never
ride with Captain MacDonnell again, was unreasonable. Nevertheless, she
felt fairly sure that under the present circumstance he could not
object. Surely, Frank could not be so ungracious as to be vexed with her
for disobeying his wish at such a time. She would, of course, ride
carefully and take no foolish risks.
Jack gave Vive into Captain MacDonnell's keeping.
"Yes, I'll go if you'll come back to dinner with Frank and the rest of
us," she agreed. "I'll be ready in five minutes."
Jack sent the nurse to look after the baby and in ten minutes was ready
for the ride.
It was a sultry August afternoon, very still, and yet with a strange
throbbing in the air of many tiny insects. The hawthorn was no longer in
bloom, but the two friends rode along the English lanes sweet with
blossoming elderberry and blackberry bushes.
Curious how, when one comes to say farewell, there is so little that
seems worth saying!
During the first part of the ride Jack and Captain MacDonnell were
frequently silent, except that Jack, of course, made the conventional
inquiries one might ask of a soldier. Was he in good condition? Did he
have everything he needed? Was there anything she could do for him--such
as looking after his house while he was gone?
In response to each question Captain MacDonnell shook his head. He had
turned over his house to be used for the Belgian refugees.
They were actually on their way home before he began to talk.
Then he took a letter from his pocket.
"I wish you would give this to Frank for me, Lady Jack, and if anything
happens to me ask him to read it, and to let you read it afterwards if
he thinks best. Sorry to be mysterious, but this is a kind of cranky
wish of mine."
Jack slipped the letter inside the coat she was wearing.
"All right, Bryan. You know I have always felt rather like a big sister
to you; I am nearly a year older. But, today I think I feel like your
mother," she continued, trying to smile, but with her voice breaking a
little. "So you must promise me, if there is anything I can ever do for
you later on you will let me know. In a way I believe I am almost
envious of you, Bryan. I think I have wanted to be a boy ever since I
could sit on the back of a horse and ride over our ranch with my father.
That is why people have always called me 'Jack,' I suppose. Anyhow, just
now, I think I would like to go out to meet a great adventure. I wonder
what a woman's great adventure is. I presume it is marriage for most of
us. At any rate Frank is terribly envious of you, Bryan. He has said so
to me half a dozen times. He does not seem to know whether he ought to
go to the front, which is what he wants to do, or to stay on here doing
his work in Parliament. Of course, he ought to stay," Jack argued,
repeating what she had been saying a good many times to her husband
recently. "There never was a time when a member of Parliament had such
great work to do, and that is Frank's real duty."
When Jack gave Captain MacDonnell's letter to her husband that night she
spoke of their having had a ride together. Although he made no comment,
she could see that he was not altogether pleased. It occurred to Jack
then, though only vaguely, that if Frank objected to her disobeying him
in small matters, their life might be pretty difficult if ever they had
a difference of opinion and she disobeyed him in a large one.
"Strange for Bryan to have confided this letter to us," Frank remarked,
as he put it carefully away in a strong box where he kept his important
papers. "I wonder what old Bryan has written? I never dreamed he had a
secret in his life which he has never told to me. But, perhaps he wants
us to do some favor or other for him. Truly I hope we may never have to
open the letter."