Now that she was here she could no longer feel angry with Peter, however stupid, obstinate and earthy he was. Poor Peter—choosing it for himself as well as for her ... she could not be angry with him, because she knew that if he pulled catastrophe down upon them, he of the two would suffer the most. Unlike her, he had no refuge, no Presence to seek, no unseen world that could become real at a thought.... His gods were dead Squires who had laid up wealth to be his poverty. Her God was a God who had beggared Himself, that she through His poverty might become rich.
This beggar and lover and prisoner, her God, was with her here in the darkness, telling her that if she too wished to be a lover she too must become a beggar and a prisoner. She would be Peter’s beggar, Peter’s slave. She would not let him go from her without pleading, without fighting, but if he really must go, if this half-known monster, Alard, was really strong enough to take him, he should not go wounded by her detaining clutch as well as by its claws. He should not go shamed and reproached, but with goodwill. If he really must go, and she could no longer hold him, she would make his going easy.... He should go in peace.... Poor Peter.
§ 19
At the end of January Mary left Conster. She could not in any spirit of decorum put off her return longer—her husband had wired to her to come home.
“Poor Julian,” said Lady Alard—“he must be missing you dreadfully. I really think you ought to go back, Mary, since he can’t manage to come here.”
Mary agreed without elaboration, and her lovely hats and shoes with the tea-gowns and dinner-frocks which had divided the family into camps of admiration and disapproval, were packed away by the careful, brisk Gisèle. The next day she was driven over to Ashford, with Jenny and Peter to see her off.
There had been no intimate talks between the sisters since the first night of her coming. Jenny was shy, and typically English in her dislike of the exposure of anything which seemed as if it ought to be hidden, and Mary either felt this attitude in her sister or else shrank from disillusioning her youth still further. They had arrived a little too early for the train, and stood together uneasily on the platform while Gisèle bought the tickets and superintended the luggage.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” said Jenny politely.
“So do I—but it couldn’t be helped after that telegram.”
“Julian sounded rather annoyed—I hope he won’t make a fuss when you get back.”