[CHAPTER V]
IN THE THICK OF THE FIGHT
"Rather, steel thy melting heart
To act the martyr's sternest part,
To watch with firm unshrinking eye
Thy darling visions as they die,
Till all bright hopes and hues of day
Have faded into twilight grey."—Christian Year.
"WHAT is Nigel going to do with himself to-day?" asked Daisy next morning.
Breakfast—supposed to begin at nine, seldom in reality before half-past—was nearly over. People had dropped in at intervals till all were present except Mr. Browning. Fulvia, for a marvel, had been one of the last instead of the first to appear, and she had to endure some banter from Daisy, replying thereto with spirit.
It had seemed to Fulvia before coming downstairs that her pale cheeks, and the dark shades under her eyes, must surely be remarked upon. But nobody seemed to see anything unusual. Fulvia had always been strong, and was almost always well. Nobody expected her to be otherwise, and people in general are not, observant. Mrs. Browning was absorbed in thought about her husband, and the girls were absorbed in attentions to Nigel, while Nigel laughed and joked with them, and Fulvia knew that his mind was away at the Rectory. She could see "Ethel" written on every line of his face; and she knew that he was not noticing her at all.
In one sense it might be a relief that none should observe more keenly, for the part she had to act became easier thereby.
Yet human nature is curiously "mixed" in its ways, always wanting what it does not possess. Fulvia missed the very solicitude which she most desired to avoid. It seemed hard that nobody should offer a word of kindness; that not a human being should care to hear how she had lain awake the whole night. For what? That none might learn; and if inquiries had come, Fulvia must have repelled them; but since they did not come, she craved a sympathising word. The sick sense of weariness was on her still; long hours of tossing to and fro had not meant rest; and breakfast was a mere sham. She could eat nothing; but nobody saw. Fulvia might do as she liked so long as other people's needs were attended to.
So she told herself bitterly while pouring out unlimited cups of tea behind the silver urn. Breakfast was always a lengthy meal at the Grange. Everybody waited for everybody else, since all were expected to be present at family prayers afterwards. Fulvia had wandered away into a little dreamland of her own when she was recalled by Daisy's question—
"What is Nigel going to do with himself to-day?"