low. âObviously there has been a major battle. Something must have been decided by it. And I understood from the newspapers that the war is almost over, that we are on the point of victory.â
âThe newspapers are telling us what we hope to hear,â said Piers. âIt was true a few weeks ago that the Germans were in retreat. But when they became too tired to retreat any further they dug trenches to protect themselves for a breathing space and found â as each of the men on this platform has found â that a row of concealed machine guns can be remarkably effective in keeping an army at bay. I suspect that there will be many more injuries of this kind. It seems to me a matter of some urgency that the surgical wards in London should be kept available for acute cases; and that means that convalescent soldiersmust be moved out as fast as emergencies move in. No doubt the hospitals are making their own plans. What I have in mind is a specific proposal.â He turned towards Alexa. âYour opera house at Blaize is not due to open for its next season until the summer,â he suggested. âIt would not take too much reorganization to convert it into a long ward for men who require rest and some care, but not the most skilled nursing. There would be room in the main house for the doctors and nurses to stay. It must be your decision, of course. What do you think?â
âBut rehearsals are due to start ââ Alexaâs first reaction was a selfish one. Before she could express even a single objection, however, her gaze returned to the rows of stretchers and the men who lay on them, too weak even to groan. She put a hand apologetically on her husbandâs arm. âYouâre quite right, Piers,â she said. âHow ought we to arrange it? We should need medical advice if the conversion is to be efficient.â
âThe best plan would be to attach Blaize to one of the London hospitals as its country branch,â suggested Margaret.
âAnd since Iâm already a governor of yours, thereâs no need to waste any time in choosing between them all,â said Piers. âI hope you wonât mind if I put forward your name, Margaret, to be medical administrator of the country branch, since we shall all have to live and work together so closely.â He thought for a moment. âIâll take Alexa back to Park Lane now and then come straight to the hospital to see what arrangements can be made.â
âItâs too late!â Kate cried, watching as Piers and Alexa hurried off. Robert went with them, perhaps still fearing an emotional outburst from his mother if he stayed. But it seemed that Margaret had for the moment succeeded in pushing her personal distress to the back of her mind.
âToo late for these men, perhaps,â she agreed. âBut Piersâs plan will help others. And all his colleagues in the House of Lords have large country houses. If a first experimental scheme can be seen to work successfully ââ
âI donât mean that,â interrupted Kate. âI mean that it will be too late for the next batch of wounded as well as for these if they are always to be sent back to England. How many lives are being lost by this kind of delay, do you think? The men should be treated as soon as they are wounded; and that means within a short distance of the battlefield.â
âWell, obviously there must be dressing stations and field hospitals,â Margaret began; but again Kate interrupted her.
âAnd obviously there are not enough. Or else they are not adequately equipped. Or else there are not enough doctors. Aunt Margaret, I must go to France as well.â
âYou may think you see a need, Kate.â Beatrice â Arthurâs elder sister â had taken no part in the earlier conversation and she spoke now with the the cold edge of sarcasm which came naturally to her voice. But Kate could tell that she