William Monk 08 - The Silent Cry

and authority, and the power it gave them, even if only temporarily? Such an attitude infuriated her. It was antiquated, blind, rooted in privilege and ignorance. It was worse than unjust, it was dangerous. It was precisely that sort of blinkered idiocy which had kept inadequate men in charge of the battles in the Crimea and cost countless men their lives.
    She drew in her breath to begin the assault, then remembered Rathbone standing so close to her he was actually touching her elbow, and she let out her breath in a sigh. It would embarrass him dreadfully, even if in truth he half agreed with her.
    “I am afraid we are all in that situation, sir,” she said sweetly. “There is a good deal I am quite certain I do not care for, but I have not yet found a way of altering it.”
    “Not for want of seeking,” Rathbone said dryly when they had bidden Mr. Justice Charles good-evening and moved a few yards away. “You were remarkably tactful to him. I expected you to take him thoroughly to task for his old-fashioned views.”
    “Do you think it would have changed his mind one iota?” she asked, looking at him with wide eyes.
    “No, my dear, I don’t,” he said with a smile, on the verge of laughter. “But that is the first time I have seen such a consideration halt you.”
    “Then perhaps the world really is changing?” she suggested.
    “Please do not allow it to change too much,” he said with agentleness that amazed her. “I appreciate the tact—it has its place—but I should not like you to become like everyone else. I really care for you very much exactly as you are.” He put his hand on hers lightly. “Even if at times it alarms me. Perhaps it is good to be disturbed now and again? One can become complacent.”
    “I have never thought of you as complacent.”
    “Yes, you have. But I assure you that you would be wrong if you thought so now. I have never been less comfortable or less certain of myself in my life.”
    Suddenly she was not certain either. Confusion made her think of Monk. She liked Rathbone immensely. There was something in him which was uniquely valuable. Monk was elusive, unyielding, at times arbitrary and cold. But she could not turn away from him. She did not wish Rathbone to say anything which would require an answer.
    Her heart was quieter again. She smiled and put up her hand to touch his cheek.
    “Then let us forget yesterday and tomorrow, and simply be certain that this evening is an island of friendship, and of a trust of which there is no doubt at all. I have no idea what the play is about either, but since the audience is laughing every few moments, I expect it is just as witty as they say.”
    He took a deep breath and smiled back at her. There was a look in his face of sudden ease. He took her hand and moved it softly to his lips.
    “I should enjoy that enormously.”
    When Dr. Wade called the next day he was accompanied by his sister, Eglantyne, who expressed the same concern for Sylvestra as before, coming to her with a kind of silent understanding which Hester now appreciated more than on the previous occasion. Then it had seemed as if she were at a loss for what to say. Looking at her more closely, it now appeared instead to be a knowledge that no words would serve any purpose; they might end in belittling what was too large for everyday speech.
    When Sylvestra and Eglantyne had gone together into thewithdrawing room, Hester looked at Corriden Wade. He was quite obviously tired and the strain was showing in the lines of weariness around his mouth and eyes. There was no longer the same energy in his bearing.
    “Can I help you at all, Dr. Wade?” she asked gravely. “Surely there must be something I can do to lessen the burden upon you? I imagine you have many other patients, both in hospital and in their homes.” She searched his eyes. “When did you last take any thought for yourself?”
    He stared at her as if for a moment he was not sure what she meant.
    “Dr. Wade?”
    He smiled, and his face altered completely. The dejection and anxiety vanished, although nothing could mask the tiredness in him.
    “How generous of you, Miss Latterly,” he said quietly. “I apologize for allowing my own feelings to be so obvious. It is not a quality I intend, or admire. I admit, this case does trouble me deeply. As you have no doubt observed, both my sister and I are very fond of the whole family.” A shadow of pain crossed his eyes, and the surprise of it was naked