Well, perhaps! And whether she arrived at the same conclusion or not, one thing was quite certain—that she would be vastly annoyed with Wilbraham if she knew that he had taken it upon himself to decide without consultation with her.
But his doubts were soon dissipated. He had decided for Harry, and was with him now. It might be rather painful at some future time to face her offended surprise, but, after all, he was a man and she was a woman. And Harry had proved himself a man already. They would only be in the same boat. Wilbraham smiled to himself, put on his coat and went down to dinner.
He had had some idea of giving Harry a word to indicate that his secret was safe, but there was no opportunity before they went in to dinner, and afterwards he was glad that he had not done so. For Harry did not even give him a look of inquiry. He chatted and laughed and seemed to be in a mood of quite unburdened high spirits. So had Viola been, but Viola had not known that Wilbraham had discovered their secret, and Harry did. Wilbraham was pleased to think that Harry's evident absence of anxiety was the result of his trust in him. He had surprised his secret and he would respect it. What could he do otherwise? Wilbraham was confirmed in his decision to leave Lady Brent out of knowledge of it, but could not forbear an exercise of imagination as he glanced at her and wondered what she would do if the truth were suddenly blurted out to her.
A remarkable woman, certainly! She provided another little surprise that evening when for the first time she seemed to contemplate the continuance of the war for such a time as would involve Harry in it. It might be that it would take a year or even more to bring it to a conclusion. Lord Kitchener was said to have prophesied three years, which was impossible to believe; but the South African War had lasted for two, when everybody thought it would be over in a few weeks. It might be that officers would be wanted more quickly than they could be turned out in normal times, and that Harry's Sandhurst training would be speeded up. They must bear that in mind.
The prospect did not seem to cause her any dismay, or if it did she concealed it. But poor Mrs. Brent raised a wail of protest. Surely they couldn't take boys of eighteen, as Harry would only be in a year's time. It would be wicked—unheard of.
"Not unheard of," said Lady Brent. "And not wicked either. For our own sakes we should wish Harry kept out of it; but if he were of an age when others went we should wish him to go. However, let us hope that there will be no necessity."
"I don't think I hope that," said Harry. "I don't want the war to last, because I think war is a horrible thing. All the same, I wish I were fighting in this one."
Wilbraham controverted the opinion that war was a horrible thing. Nations were apt to get lazy and selfish over long periods of peace, and wanted rousing out of themselves, just as sluggish human bodies did. War was a tonic and a cleanser.
"Perhaps it is, for those who can fight, with a great idea behind them," said Harry. "For all the rest I think it's beastly. At any rate, an Englishman could fight in this war and know he was doing the right thing. I wish I were a year older now."
Mrs. Brent breathed a deep sigh and looked at him hungrily. It was of no use her saying anything. If Harry's fighting or not fighting should come to be decided on, she would have no voice in the decision. She looked anxiously at Lady Brent, who only said: "Fortunately, the matter isn't in our hands."