When the men came with the ropes and the tackle necessary and slowly righted the car he found that its engine ran again and he had speed and strength once more as his servants. He tried to encourage Charity with a figure of speech.
“They've got us ditched, honey, for a while, but we'll get righted soon and then life will be as smooth as smooth.”
She tried to smile for his sake, but she had finished with hope.
CHAPTER XVII
While Jim and Charity sat by the roadside the Marchioness of Strathdene, née Kedzie Thropp, of Nimrim, sat on a fine cushion and salted with her tears the toasted English crumpet she was having with her tea.
She had been married indeed, but the same ban that fell upon Jim's remarriage had forbidden her the wedding of her dreams. She was the innocent party to the divorce and she was married in a church. But it was not of the Episcopal creed, which she was now calling the Church of England. Kedzie-like, she still wanted what she could not get and grieved over what she got. It is usual to berate people of her sort, but they are no more to be blamed than other dyspeptics. Souls, like stomachs, cannot always coordinate appetite and digestion.
Kedzie had, however, found a husband who would be permanently precious to her, since she would never be certain of him. Like her, he was restless, volatile, and maintained his equilibrium as a bicycle does only by keeping on going. He was mad to be off to the clouds of France. There was a delay because ships were sailing infrequently, and their departure was kept secret. Passengers had to go aboard and wait.
Bidding “bon voyage” was no longer the stupid dock-party platitude it had been. It was bidding “good-by” with faint hope of “au revoir.” Ladies going abroad, even brides, thought little of their deck costumes so long as they included a well-tailored life-preserver.