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Bea stood up. "I should speak to the cook. "
Walter jumped to his feet and pulled out her chair.
"Talk to Lady Maud," Bea said as she left the room. "Cheer her up. She's worried about the international situation. "
Walter raised his eyebrows at the note of mockery in Bea's voice. "All sensible people are worried about the international situation," he said.
Maud felt awkward. Desperate for something to say, she pointed to The Times. "Do you think it's true that Serbia has called up seventy thousand reservists?"
"I doubt if they have seventy thousand reservists," Walter said gravely. "But they are trying to raise the stakes. They hope that the danger of a wider war will make Austria cautious. "
"Why is it taking the Austrians so long to send their demands to the Serbian government?"
"Officially, they want to get the harvest in before doing anything which might require them to call men to the army. Unofficially, they know that the president of France and his foreign minister happen to be in Russia, which makes it dangerously easy for the two allies to agree on a concerted response. There will be no Austrian note until President Poincare leaves St. Petersburg. "
He was such a clear thinker, Maud reflected. She loved that about him.
His reserve failed him suddenly. His mask of formal courtesy fell away, and his face looked anguished. Abruptly, he said: "Please come back to me. "
She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat seemed choked with emotion, and no words came out.
He said miserably: "I know you threw me over for my own sake, but it won't work. I love you too much. "
Maud found words. "But your father. . . "
"He must work out his own destiny. I cannot obey him, not in this. " His voice sank to a whisper. "I cannot bear to lose you. "
"He might be right: perhaps a German diplomat can't have an English wife, at least not now. "
"Then I'll follow another career. But I could never find another you. "
Her resolve melted and her eyes flooded.
He reached across the table and took her hand. "May I speak to your brother?"
She bunched up her white linen napkin and blotted her tears. "Don't talk to Fitz yet," she said. "Wait a few days, until the Serbian crisis blows over. "
"That may take more than a few days. "
"In that case, we'll think again. "
"I shall do as you wish, of course. "
"I love you, Walter. Whatever happens, I want to be your wife. "
He kissed her hand. "Thank you," he said solemnly. "You have made me very happy. "
{VI}
A strained silence descended on the house in Wellington Row. Mam made dinner, and Da and Billy and Gramper ate it, but no one said much. Billy was eaten up with a rage he could not express. In the afternoon he climbed the mountainside and walked for miles on his own.
Next morning he found his mind returning again and again to the story of Jesus and the woman taken in adultery. Sitting in the kitchen in his Sunda
y clothes, waiting to go with his parents and Gramper to the Bethesda Chapel for the service of the breaking of bread, he opened his Bible at the Gospel According to John and found chapter 8. He read the story over and over. It seemed to be about exactly the kind of crisis that had struck his family.
He continued to think of it in chapel. He looked around the room at his friends and neighbors: Mrs. Dai Ponies, John Jones the Shop, Mrs. Ponti and her two big sons, Suet Hewitt. . . They all knew that Ethel had left Ty Gwyn yesterday and bought a train ticket to Paddington; and although they did not know why, they could guess. In their minds, they were already judging her. But Jesus was not.
During the hymns and extempore prayers, he decided that the Holy Spirit was leading him to read those verses out. Toward the end of the hour he stood up and opened his Bible.
