“Auntie,” almost thundered Mr. Bang, “once in Alaska, I had a German as mining partner. We slept under the same blanket for months. I learned to read the German mind. The frugal German is not putting countless millions into armament without believing he will get a return. I have also travelled in Germany.”
“This is then why you think regeneration of our society is at hand?” asked Mumsie, doubtless referring to Mr. Bang’s suggestion of many nights previous. Oh, how long ago it seems!
“Yes, that’s it. A great war will come when England will have to strain every muscle. Then let us hope our women folk turn from those who trifle with them, and spend their money on them, to those who defend them.”
Dinner ended with no bones broken. In fact, we were all in very good humour. I made the excuse of a headache and slipped away to my room. Soon my joy left me, my head became filled with difficult thoughts. Laughter, I believe, is not a measure of the joy within me, not always. I believe I now laughed in an attempt to induce joy, not as an expression of it.
I have decided to tell Mumsie that I have an engagement for to-morrow afternoon to go shopping and take tea with some fictitious person. This I believe to be the safest device. Should I say Ethel Bassett for instance, Mumsie might find out I fibbed, which would look bad. I can say I met Hannah Smart at Mrs. Lien’s ball. I know there is no real Hanna Smart. What a sneak I feel—and am.
[2] It may interest old country people to learn that servants coming to Canada generally expect to take their meals with the family, or enjoy other social advancements.
January 4th.
This morning Mumsie received a letter from Sister Mary intimating that she would arrive by the day train. “It is so good of you to think I should like to see dear Jack, and I am so proud Uncle wishes the children to come.” The new-comer would stay just for a few days. Brother Jack opined that she really meant this, as she could do a world of shopping in a few hours. Mumsie and I decided that she and the children should have my room, and that I should occupy the sewing-room as temporary quarters.
During breakfast Mr. Bang seemed more than usually intent on reading the Telegraph. In the process he read aloud: “Sir Thomas Billings returned yesterday from a visit over the lines of the Poverty, Distress and Want System. He reports the company’s affairs in a particularly prosperous condition, and in answer to a question inferred that the stock is due for a substantial rise.”
“That’s what might be called a straight tip,” laughed Uncle, “written in very poor journalese.”