Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise., 1938-07-15

Denise happened to mention that her
mother once said it was her favorite
county in England. The house was
high on the downs, with view Of
green plateau, sloping down to the
edge of the chalk cliffs and the sea
beyond. By a precipitous descent,
one climbed down to a small curving
beach between two white cliffs, for
swimming. There were usually the
sounds of sheepbells in the distance,
and always the air was clear as light,
cool as fresh water.
Denise and Gilbert were settled
there by the time her people arrived.
She told him, more than once: Moth
er and Father are sure to be happy
here. It's such a lovely place." But
whether she was happy there, or
thought she would be, she did not say.
She said very little to him nowadays
of her thoughts or her emotions.
The days between her peoples ar
rival and his sailing, Gilbert real
lied, were difficult for one who had
no more talent for pretense than she.
She was obliged to give an imitation
of radiantly happy young wife, and
at the same time of an affectionate
sister.
Fortunately, her parents took the
radiantly happy, young wife's COM
pletely for granted. Felicia, he could
tell, had extreme doubts. But he hop
ed Felicia was sufficiently puzzled by
Denise's attitude to herself, to have
little leisure to speculate on precisely
what lay behind her attitude to her
husband.
Well, Denise was alternately aloof
to him and apologetic for that alof-
ness, which was worse. She was So
licitous about Felicia (who still looked
fragile enough for the wind over the
downs to blow away, and whose beau
ty was dimmed little), but she pune
tuated that solicitude with moods of
sharp, unreasonable antagonism, un-
reasonable because of the triviality
of the occasions which precipitated it,
Felicia's least casual expression of
opinion seemed sufficient.
In those days he had one long con-
versation with Michael Rendale and
his wife. They had asked his advice
about Felicia, as if he were really
their son. And he who grew fonder
of his parents-in-law every hour he
spent with them, but considered them
a trifle too gentle to cope with mod
ernity, did not know what to tell
them!
The Dayne family were determined
that Eustace divorce Felicia. He re-
fused. Therefore they'd taken away
the big salary which had always been
given him for his entirely inconse-
quential work in the various family
businesses. They were so bitter
that they were even indiscreet, and
stated with considerable publicity that
not one penny more of their money
would ever go to "that woman"
Eustace came to his parents-in-
law and said two sentences:
eff Felicia wants a divorce, have
her let me know. -.
eff Felicia wants me back, next
week or next month or ever, I'll come
back" And he took his departure, to
spend the summer with his friends
near Santa Fe, the Rendales thought.
Keith Sheldie, Jr., as far as they
knew, never communicated with Fe-
licia at all. Nor did they question
her about him, or about her feelings
toward Eustace.
Sara Rendale told Gilbert: "She has
been so ill, and still isn't strong. We
haven't wished to trouble her. Besides
I doubt that we should have, in any
case. If she wants to talk to us, she
will"
Felicia clearly did not want to talk
to anyone, about anything, more SER
ious than clothes, weather, the kind
of crossing they'd had, the scenery of
Sussex. Gilbert thought she lived in
kind of suspence as if she were fill
ing in time, while she waited for some
thing.
He had an idea that she suffered
in her thoughts. But for her suffer-
ing he had very little sympathy. His
sympathy was entirely for her hus-
band! Whom he meant to go see,
without telling anyone, and to find
work for too, in the Windon compan-
les. Eustace Dayne was dull, per-
haps, not sufficiently subtle to inter-
est his wife; but he was worth ten of
her!
Watchfully, Felicia's clear hazel
eyes rested upon Gilbert, as if she