In March of 1915, all three of Lord and Lady Chetwynd-Pitt's sons'd been gassed, blown up or machine-gunned in the very same week at the battle of Neuve-Chapelle. All three. Imagine that: On Monday, you've got three sons, by Friday you've got none. Lady Albertina had just, y'know, caved in. Physically, mentally, spiritually, brutally.
When shall I cease to regret you! _ When learn to feel a home elsewhere! _ Oh! Happy house, could you know what I suffer in now viewing you from this spot, from whence perhaps I may view you no more! _ And you, ye well-known trees! _ but you will continue the same. _ No leaf will decay because we are removed, nor any branch become motionless although we can observe you no longer! _ No; you will continue the same; unconscious of the pleasure or the regret you occasion, and insensible of any change in those who walk under your shade! _ But who will remain to enjoy you?
Sense and Sensibility
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When shall I cease to regret you! _ When learn to feel a home elsewhere! _ Oh! Happy house, could you know what I suffer in now viewing you from this spot, from whence perhaps I may view you no more! _ And you, ye well-known trees! _ but you will continue the same. _ No leaf will decay because we are removed, nor any branch become motionless although we can observe you no longer! _ No; you will continue the same; unconscious of the pleasure or the regret you occasion, and insensible of any change in those who walk under your shade! _ But who will remain to enjoy you?
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Was it possible to feel nostalgic about something that had never happened to him, possible for nostalgia to be taken in by the body as a free pathogen to infect the consciousness with stray sentiments? Perhaps, in his dreams, he had traveled back in time, or even drifted into another dimension of space-time and inhabited the body, experiences, and nostalgia of another. To even envisage so allowed the trauma of those lost moments, though not his own, to draw from him a certain envy for the entity in whose memories he had basked vicariously. . .Perhaps, nostalgia was a microorganism. . .the bacterium that infected. . . Yes. . .maybe he was sick.
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