“You knew of this plan, Hugh?” said Agatha.
“This is where I usually get dressed down more severely than Daniel for just knowing of some nefarious action for which he has been discovered,” said Hugh to Beatrice. He ate his last spoonful of trifle and waved the spoon about. “This time I draw the line, Auntie. Daniel is a grown man and I am no longer responsible for his scraped knees and wayward nature.”
“I can’t imagine his father would have approved,” said Agatha. “Of course it is the fashion for young men to experience la vie boulevardier, I suppose.”
“Boys with more means than sense,” said John. “These times will call for men of sterner character.”
“I can only hope you are proved wrong,” said Agatha. Jenny came in to signal that tea was ready in the living room, and Agatha added, “Oh, just bring the tea in here, my dear. The ladies will not be withdrawing early tonight.”
The tea had been poured and the doors were just being closed to the ears of the staff when Daniel slipped into the dining room again.
“I apologize for my abrupt withdrawal,” he said. “My distress at the thought of Paris and all her treasures under threat required a moment of composure.”
“Do you need some brandy?” asked his uncle.
“I’m sure Hugh would agree it’s a good idea, if only for medicinal purposes,” said Daniel. “Assuming you have more dismal news to share?”
“I can’t really say much more,” said John, pouring brandies for himself, Hugh, and Daniel. He tilted the bottle towards his wife, but she shook her head. “There may be yet a few days in which to urge Germany to reconsider, but as you can imagine, military action has its own forward momentum.” He sighed and walked over to stand in the open French window and breathe deeply of the evening’s fragrant air. “With Russia also on the move, I fear it may be like trying to stop a runaway train by putting out one’s hand.”
“And we were honor bound to guarantee poor Belgium’s safety, were we not?” asked Beatrice.
“There is no honor in diplomacy, Miss Nash,” said Daniel. “The loud declaring of its violation is usually designed to produce some advantage.”
“Daniel!” said his aunt.
“The boy may not be wrong,” said his uncle. “Though I have spent many years struggling in its cause, I believe the age of honor among civilized nations may be coming to its end.”
“So we will not defend Belgium?” asked Beatrice. She felt sadly confused, and she was sure one should not be confused about the need for war. “But we have a treaty!”
“Oh, we will defend them,” said John. “If Germany were to defeat France and gain a stranglehold on the northern French ports, they would threaten our channel shipping and our dominant position over the sea-lanes.”
“So we will fight them for our own benefit?” she said. “Saving Belgium is just a story to tell the humble masses?”
“Quite the opposite,” said John. “The saving of innocent Belgium is a story for the benefit of Parliament and all the important people who must agree to give us the troops and money to fight. You can’t get anything in politics without telling the politicians a good bedtime story.”
“Will there be conscription?” asked Hugh.
“I don’t know that it will go that far,” said his uncle. “We have the Expeditionary Force mustering now. They are seasoned and experienced. We’ll ask for volunteers. I think the immediate response will be a rush of the inexperienced but well-connected yahoos, looking for a plum spot from which to help run the proceedings in perfect safety. My own office is already receiving a deluge of letters of introduction and requests for commissions.”
“Now that Paris is out, I hope you’ll see that this is the perfect time for you to enter the Foreign Office with your uncle, Daniel,” said Agatha. “I know your father wishes it.”
“I have no interest in sitting in Whitehall learning to order woolen socks by the bushel,” said Daniel. “Craigmore and I will just start our journal in London and contribute to the cause through our art.”
“I’m sure a journal containing stirring poetry and patriotic sketches would be a welcome and successful enterprise,” said his aunt. Beatrice noticed her dry tone and was not at all surprised when Daniel took violent exception.
“Good God, that’s the worst idea ever,” he said. “We would surely suffocate under the mudslide of maudlin submissions containing nothing but cheap sentimentality and empty blusterings. No hint of patriotism must be allowed to corrupt the art. If anything, the cause of poetry must always be peace.”
“You may not find many subscribers in time of war,” said Hugh. “Poets must also eat and pay rent.”
“If necessary we’ll run the journal from here,” said Daniel. “We’ll just move into your garage, Hugh.”
“Behind every poet stands not the muse but a well-provisioned aunt with a country house?” said Hugh. He remained deadpan, drinking his tea, and Beatrice hid a smile.
“Exactly,” said Daniel. “What would I do without you, Aunt Agatha?”
“What should the rest of us be doing, Mr. Kent?” asked Beatrice. “One wants to do one’s duty.”
“Keep one’s regular routine and refuse to show agitation,” said John. “It is important that we set a good example, because news of this kind has a way of stirring up the population.”
“I had better get in a few supplies,” said Agatha. “You know I like to be prepared.”
“Hoarding will be frowned upon officially,” said her husband. “It produces shortages and drives up prices.”
“Then I will be circumspect about the town,” said his wife. “But I’ll expect you to go to Fortnum and Mason on your way to the office and put in a respectably small order for immediate delivery.”
“I should get a few things for town too,” said John. “My club dinners are bad enough in time of peace. A stock of Gentleman’s Relish and some potted oysters should see me through some months of hostilities.”
Upon reflection during the days that followed, Hugh could see that the gathering storm clouds in Europe had been well reported in the newspapers, but that, like so many, he had failed to notice the goings-on of the Continent.
“I avoid the papers altogether,” said Daniel. “I’m pretty sure wars would be shorter if we weren’t all so eager to read about them.”
“And what are we to do now?” asked Hugh. “I feel anxious just sitting here.” They were in the garden, Daniel lying in the hammock and Hugh sprawled in an old canvas deck chair.
“My dear cousin, sitting still is quite the best option,” said Daniel. “Did you not hear Uncle John say we are to carry on as normal and refuse to appear concerned?”
“What is normal when there are soldiers guarding the train station and one can’t change a five-pound note anywhere?”
“I should be so lucky as to be in possession of a five-pound note,” sighed Daniel. He let his book fall to the ground and placed his hands behind his head. “The scent of war does add crispness to the outlines of one’s day,” he added. “I detected a certain urgency of purpose in the gait of the milkman’s horse this morning.”
“Oh, do be sensible, Daniel,” said Hugh. “Between you playing the fop and Colonel Wheaton enlisting every drunken idiot in front of the Town Hall, it’s as if the whole world has gone mad.”
“I saw the Finch woman photographing a handsome young recruit draped in the Union Jack, with his mother and three little sisters all weeping into bunches of daisies,” said Daniel, sighing. “I was quite tempted to enlist myself, just so I too could swoon under the flag and send the picture to Craigmore to make him weep for me.”
“Dr. Lawton says the recruits are a feeble, malnourished lot and liable to succumb to a chill from the first route march,” said Hugh.
“Are you going to help him fatten up the Sussex youth for the front lines?” asked Daniel.