The Way Things Are by E. M. Delafield

Author:E. M. Delafield
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 1927-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter XI

“What Are We going to do?” said Ayland, next day.

(He had previously been saying other things, far more agreeable to Laura than this inevitable, but difficult, enquiry.)

They were sitting in Kensington Gardens, within sight of the Albert Memorial, and Laura gazed earnestly at it before replying, as though seeking counsel of Albert the Good, so straightforwardly domestic.

At last she said:

“I’ve been trying to think. It’s so difficult to be honest. I used to say that if ever I fell in love with anybody else, the first person I should tell would be Alfred.”

“I used to say that if ever I fell in love with another man’s wife I should either persuade her to come right away with me, or else go right away myself and never see her again.”

“The first alternative,” said Laura gently, “is obviously impossible.”

“The second one is much more so, darling.”

To hear such things said in Ayland’s deep and agreeable voice, reduced Laura to an exquisite and breathtaking silence.

“Will you come away with me, Laura?”

“I could never do that. The children—”

A pang went through her as she said the words, and an unbearably vivid image came before her mind’s eye of Johnnie and Edward at home. She could feel Johnnie’s silky curls under her hand.

It was inconceivable that she should have got to a stage where such a suggestion as that of her leaving them could have been made.

If that suggestion were possible, what else might not become possible? In a confused and irrational way, she seemed to see herself deserting the children, less by an act of free-will than by the working of some mysterious and oppressive fate, for the existence of which she was nevertheless responsible.

“You don’t understand,” said Laura violently, “that Johnnie—the boys—are the most important things in the world to me.”

“I do understand.”

“There could never be any question of my doing anything that would hurt them.”

“Perhaps some day—a long time hence, when they’re both grown up—”

“Perhaps,” said Laura gently, avoiding any inward calculation as to the tale of her own years at that remote period.

She was, in fact, relieved to have softened the edges of her impassioned negation. It reassured her, that Duke should know how inexorable was her decision, and his knowledge seemed to leave her more freedom. She wanted to be made love to more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.

“We could have had the most wonderful marriage if we’d met years ago,” she murmured.

Ayland’s response was as ardent, as detailed, as she had wanted it to be.

Whatever happened, or did not happen, Laura’s dreams had for a little while come true, and she knew it.

Ayland told her all those things about herself that she had most wished to believe, but had been forced to doubt since for so many years no one had appeared to perceive them. Under the magic of his words she could feel herself actually verifying them.

He found her beautiful, and courageous, and lovable and gifted—and she became so.

“I have never been alive before,” thought Laura, her mouth trembling.

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