Indeed, all her queries seemed to be trying to incite him to those wide efforts of mind which bring into use the philosophic nerve; and it was long since he had generalized afresh about either things or people, having fallen for many years past into the habit of reaching his opinions down out of some pigeonhole or other. To generalize was a youthful practice that one took off as one takes certain garments off babies when they come to years of discretion.
But since he seemed to be in for it, he answered rather shortly:
"Not at all."
Nedda sighed again.
"Nor do I. They make me ashamed of myself."
John, whose dislike of the Bigwigs was that of the dogged worker of this life for the dogged talkers, wrinkled his brows:
"How's that?"
"They make me feel as if I were part of something heavy sitting on something else, and all the time talking about how to make things lighter for the thing it's sitting on."
A vague recollection of somebody--some writer, a dangerous one--having said something of this sort flitted through John.
"Do YOU think England is done for, Uncle--I mean about 'the Land'?"
In spite of his conviction that 'the country was in a bad way,'
John was deeply, intimately shocked by that ****** little question.
Done for! Never! Whatever might be happening underneath, there must be no confession of that. No! the country would keep its form. The country would breathe through its nose, even if it did lose the race. It must never know, or let others know, even if it were beaten. And he said:
"What on earth put that into your head?"
"Only that it seems funny, if we're getting richer and richer, and yet all the time farther and farther away from the life that every one agrees is the best for health and happiness. Father put it into my head, ****** me look at the little, towny people in Transham this afternoon. I know I mean to begin at once to learn about farm work."
"You?" This pretty young thing with the dark head and the pale, slim shoulders! Farm work! Women were certainly getting queer.
In his department he had almost daily evidence of that!
"I should have thought art was more in your line!"
Nedda looked up at him; and he was touched by that look, so straight and young.
"It's this. I don't believe Derek will be able to stay in England.
When you feel very strongly about things it must be awfully difficult to."
In bewilderment John answered:
"Why! I should have said this was the country of all others for movements, and social work, and--and--cranks--" he paused.
"Yes; but those are all for curing the skin, and I suppose we're really dying of heart disease, aren't we? Derek feels that, anyway, and, you see, he's not a bit wise, not even patient--so I expect he'll have to go. I mean to be ready, anyway."
And Nedda got up. "Only, if he does something rash, don't let them hurt him, Uncle John, if you can help it."
