say, 'perhaps,' for I do not believe that life holds nothing happier for
you than the sullen content of martyrdom."

"Nina!"

"I am right!" she said, almost fiercely; "I've been married thirteen
years and I've lost that fear of men's portentous judgments which all
girls outgrow one day. And do you think I am going to acquiesce in this
attitude of yours toward life? Do you think I can't distinguish between
a tragical mistake and a mistaken tragedy? I tell you your life is not
finished; it is not yet begun!"

He looked at her, incensed; but she sprang to the floor, her face bright
with colour, her eyes clear, determined: "I thought, when you took the
oath of military service, you swore to obey the laws of the land? And
the very first law that interferes with your preconceived
notions--crack!--you say it's not for you! Look at me--you great, big,
wise brother of mine--who knows enough to march a hundred and three men
into battle, but not enough to know where pride begins and conscience
ends. You're badly hurt; you are deeply humiliated over your
resignation; you believe that ambition for a career, for happiness, for
marriage, and for children is ended for you. You need fresh air--and I'm
going to see you have it. You need new duties, new faces, new scenes,
new problems. You shall have them. Dear, believe me, few men as young as
you--as attractive, as human, as lovable, as affectionate as you,
wilfully ruin their lives because of a hurt pride which they mistake for
conscience. You will understand that when you become convalescent. Now
kiss me and tell me you're much obliged--for I hear Austin's voice on
the stairs."