AMONG THE ANGELIC ORDERS
211
Sheila continued, "And don't you remember what Rilke says–
'Every angel is terrible'-and. But you can meet the angel with the
ankh."
This too was a poor choice. "Rilke," Gretchen said. She was
reminded of her mother (Mrs. Weiss had asked to see the
Duino
Elegies)
and it seemed that that old fighting life with her mother
was faraway and flat, now, like a puppet-show.
Sheila tried again. "Maybe
you'll
have an angel-"
She was, after all, trying to be helpful, but it was hardly sur–
prising that Gretchen took a different view and was full of irritable
gestures. "Oh, Sheila"-wearily-"I-it has nothing to do with an–
gels," she corrected her friend. Then stopped.
"If
I have a baby, it
probably won't even be human. It will probably be some monster–
a lion," she said with a silly laugh.
"A lion!" Sheila exclaimed. "That would be wonderful! The
lion, the King of the Jungle! Lion, lion, burning bright-"
"I think that was a tiger," Gretchen interrupted sullenly. It
was quite clear that Gretchen was rather alone in this. The eternal
friendship seemed unequal to all demands and the "best friend" not
a savior of any kind. That was deception indeed. Gretchen rose from
the chair almost melodramatically, as
if
showing the heavy accretions,
the different circumstances, the
weight,
in short, of her new maturity.
But she said something more: "I didn't tell Byron, though. I thought
I'd wait. It's only a week-"
"Of course. He wouldn't understand, really. But I do," Sheila
said tenderly, seeming quite unaware that this understanding might
leave something to be desired. "It really has nothing to do with him–
I mean, it's such a pure thing, it's too much of an ideal. Of course,
you haven't said very much about it-but
I
can understand." She
showed only the greatest respect for the whole situation.
Gretchen stood up clumsily, pulling down her skirt, acting her
imagined part in the weary matronly future. In front of her, Sheila
shone delicate and golden as a myth. Gretchen stared at her friend
in a kind of angry confusion. She had never been able to imagine
Sheila
growing old.
"I'll call you," Sheila said.
"All right-I don't know. I have to go," and the younger girl
turned toward the door. It seemed to her,
this
farewell, heavy and
