“That’s just it.”

“What?”

“Grow up quickly, Lucinda, there’s a good girl.”

“I promise to do all I can about the matter.”

He turned to me and kissed my cheek. “It is lovely to be with you,” he said. “We understand each other.”

“Yes. I think we do. I shall be very sad when you go back tomorrow, Robert.”

“Let’s plan for my next leave then.”

“What a good idea! And in the meantime I’ll see what I can do to speed up the growing process.”

“Just do that,” he said.

And after that we walked back to the house. We were both a little quieter than usual.

We all went to the station to see Robert off. Aunt Belinda and Annabelinda were staying a few more days.

I was surprised and more than a little shocked that Annabelinda showed no interest whatsoever in Edward; and if he were referred to, a mask would come over her face and she would affect indifference. I was sure she could not feel this but she gave the impression that she was annoyed with me for bringing him to England. She would have preferred he had remained in Belgium, conveniently out of the way.

I suppose her point was logical enough. That was an episode in her life that she wanted to forget, and my action had brought the result of it right out into the open to remind her whenever she visited us.

But it seemed to me inhuman that a woman should have no interest in, no curiosity about her own son.

She was full of high spirits and seemed to have forgiven me for not telling her that the dinner for Marcus Merrivale had had to be changed to a different date.

She came to my room to have a little chat now and then, away from everyone. We talked about school and what might be happening to Madame Rochère.

“I am sure she will be directing the army of occupation,” said Annabelinda.

“Poor Madame Rochère, I hardly think it will be like that.”

“You can’t imagine Rochy knuckling under to anyone, can you?”

“In these circumstances, yes.”

“I can’t help thinking how neatly it all worked out. That was due to the incomparable major. You haven’t heard anything of him, have you?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“You were a bit secretive about him once. I just wondered.”

“I’m not secretive at all. I did not know when I wrote to you. I suppose he is now somewhere in France…or Belgium.”

“I thought perhaps that, as he is in the same regiment as your uncle, you might know.”

“I don’t know where Uncle Gerald is. This is war. There are lots of things which have to be kept secret.”

“I know that. We’re not allowed to forget it, are we? I expect he is having a jolly time.”

“I should imagine it is not so very jolly out there.”

“He would always have a good time. He was such fun to be with. You and Robert get on very well, don’t you?”

“Yes. You know we always did.”

“He’s a good sort, Robert. You and he are just right for each other.”

“What do you mean?”

She laughed scornfully. “You know what I mean. I think the families have always had it in mind. It’s what they want.”

“You mean…?”

“Of course, you idiot. Wedding bells and all that. If you were a year or two older, he would have asked you by now. I should have thought that was obvious.”

“It wasn’t obvious at all. I’ve always liked Robert. We’ve always been good friends.”

“The best basis for marriage, they say. You like him, don’t you? Wouldn’t it be fun to be sisters-in-law? It’s what they all want, you know.”

“I don’t believe my parents give a thought to all that. As for you, Annabelinda, I think you should concern yourself with your affairs and leave mine to me.”

“Oh!” she said mockingly. “Dear Lucinda, Robert adores you and you adore him. You’re the perfect match. You’re so alike. When you marry him, you’ll go down to the country, have ten children and be the perfect married couple who’ll live happily ever after.”

“Annabelinda, will you stop arranging my life?”

“I’m not arranging it. I’m just saying what it will be—and it will be the best thing for you.”

“Are you adding clairvoyance to your many accomplishments?”

“I am just being logical and seeing what is right under my eyes. You look really cross. Do you want me to go?”

“Yes…if you are going to foretell the future. Why don’t you look to your own?”

“I do, Lucinda. I do all the time.”

I looked at her steadily. I could see how her mind worked. She had taken a great fancy to Marcus Merrivale. His family was rich and socially desirable, while he himself was so attractive—a perfect combination. She was hoping to see him again, to enchant him—something which she felt herself capable of doing—and she was just a little fearful that, simply because of the advantage I had of being the niece of his superior officer, I might have opportunities that were denied to her.

I laughed at her, but after she had gone I began to think of the implication of what she had said.

Was it true my family was eager for me to marry Robert? I knew they would welcome it, because they were fond of him. And Robert? He had been very tender and a little cryptic…if one could imagine his ever being so. He had intimated that if I were older he might propose marriage to me.

The thought gave me a pleasurable, comfortable feeling.

Perhaps I was flattered. I liked Robert very much. On the other hand, images of Marcus Merrivale kept intruding…I remembered him on the road to the border between France and Belgium…traveling to Calais between France and Belgium…traveling to Calais…and later in our own drawing room.

I was rather excited because Annabelinda clearly saw me as a rival.

Christmas had come: a Christmas of curtailed activities. There was a war on and people remembered that earlier it had been said it would be over by Christmas; and here was Christmas and the war was still with us.

The easy victory was not to be. Some of the wounded were being brought back across the Channel, and still it went on.

From the first, my mother had been deeply involved in charities. Now she saw an opportunity to do more.

It was in April of the following year that she had the idea of turning Marchlands into a hospital for wounded soldiers.

Marchlands was convenient. It was not too far from the coast or from London. It was in a good situation, surrounded by forest, and the pure air would make it ideal for convalescence. The house was large and suited to the project.

There was a great deal of excitement; my mother was completely absorbed. My father, of course, would have to stay in London during the week, but he could come down for weekends. The household would be moved down there. Two doctors would be employed with several nurses. Miss Carruthers and I could be of use. We were not trained, of course, but there were lots of jobs to be done in a hospital which did not demand that skill. We were all caught up in it. There were journeys to and from Marchlands. Everything seemed to have been overshadowed by the plan—even the war.

It was in May when Marcus came again. He was with Uncle Gerald and they were both preparing to leave for Gallipoli in a few days’ time, although the week before they had just come back from France.

It was a lively meal we had, with Uncle Gerald and Marcus talking most of the time about military matters. Uncle Gerald had always been like that, my mother had told me once. He loved fighting battles on the tablecloth with the pepper pot representing some fortress and the salt for the guns. He would pick up some dish to stand for the opposing forces.

My father listened intently. He was very preoccupied these days. There was anxiety in high places. The war was not proving as easy to win as some had calculated.

“The whole operation is to relieve the Russians,” Uncle Gerald was saying. “That’s why we are coming to grips with the Turks on the Dardanelles.”