"She must, of course, find some work at once," Mrs. Aldesey wrote. "The war does help to solve problems of this sort as nothing else before ever could. She must nurse, or drive an ambulance and perhaps by the time it's all over we'll have forgotten irrelevancies that happened so long ago. Sometimes it feels like that to me and I know I'm much too old to face the world that will have grown up out of the wreckage of the world I knew." Mrs. Aldesey, still, always spoke of herself as antique, relegated and on the shelf. Rather absurd of her, as her friend pointed out in his reply, when she was obviously one of the people who were going to make the new world. She was organizing the Belgians in the most remarkable manner.
As to Coldbrooks he hesitated. He could hardly see himself writing to Mrs. Chadwick or to Meg. Of Nancy he felt a little shy. There would be too much to say to Nancy if he said anything and he allowed the anonymous calamity that had overtaken his friends to pass without comment or condolence. But after an interval of some weeks it was from Nancy herself that he heard. Nancy seemed always to be selected as the vehicle for other people's emergencies.
"Dear Roger," she wrote. "You have heard how very unhappy we all are. It is dreadful to see poor Meg, and Aunt Eleanor makes it really worse for her. Meg wears mourning, like a widow, and she is terribly bitter about Palgrave, and about Adrienne, too. Doesn't that seem to you very strange and unjust? Adrienne is doing for Palgrave what she did for Meg--standing by him. It is all more unhappy than you can imagine. Palgrave is at New College, now, you know, and I'm writing, because Aunt Eleanor's one hope is that you may be able to talk to him. Kindly, you know, Roger; and not as if you thought him a criminal or a coward; that is worse than useless, naturally. Palgrave is very arrogant; but you know what a tender heart he really has and I am sure that he is very lonely and unhappy. So be kind and understanding, won't you? He really cares for you and trusts you more than he likes to show; and of course he would expect you to be against him."
Oldmeadow was going into Oxford in a week's time and he wrote to Palgrave and asked him to give him tea. "I've got to talk to you, if you'll let me," he said, "but I shan't make myself a nuisance, I promise you. I only want to satisfy myself that you have thought everything out, and if you have I'll be able to tell your people that they must give up tormenting themselves and you about it. I shall like talking over your work with you, too, if I may, and renewing my own Oxford memories." So conciliatory, so affectionate (and he found it easy to be affectionate to poor Palgrave) was the tone of the letter that he had a swift reply. Palgrave would be very glad to see him.