Nancy did not reply--indeed, for the moment she was unable to speak. The last three weeks had tried her sorely. She had as she had thought decided to link her fate with that of Bob Nancarrow. She had, in spite of herself, confessed her love for him, and had promised to be his wife. Then suddenly the heavens had become black. The great war had broken out, and then when almost every young man she knew had offered himself for his country, the man she loved had proved a coward, and had sought to hide his cowardice behind pious platitudes. She blushed with shame as she thought of it. She hated herself for having loved a man who was unworthy to call himself an Englishman. And yet she had told him that she loved him. She had allowed him to hold her in his arms, while he had rained kisses on her lips. She, the daughter of Admiral Tresize, she, who bore a name which had ever been honoured among people who had fought for their country's safety and honour, had promised herself to a poltroon, a coward! The thought was maddening, and yet she had not been able to drive her love from her heart. In spite of his cowardice she still loved him. Even when she sought to insult him at the recruiting meeting she loved him. She constantly found herself trying to make excuses for him. But the fact remained. He had held back in the time of his country's peril, he had refused to listen when the King had sent out his call! Even when she had given him the white feather, his manhood had not been aroused. He had stood like a sulky school-boy, ashamed of his cowardice, but still a coward.
Yes, all was over between herself and Bob Nancarrow. How could it be otherwise? She had given him every chance to explain himself, and she had listened to his reasons for holding back. And such reasons! How could she, Nancy Tresize, who came from a race of fighters, accept such paltry excuses? Christianity to her meant the highest code of honour: it meant faithfulness to promise, it meant honour, it meant truth, it meant defending the weak--and in all this Bob had failed.
And yet she loved him. In her heart of hearts she did not believe he was a coward; as for meanness and dishonour, they were alien to his nature.