on the drive。 Down the park； a long way off； a man was carrying
armfuls of hay across the snow。 He was a small； dark figure；
like an animal moving in its unawareness。
Ursula and Maggie went on exploring； down to a tinkling；
chilly brook； that had worn the snow away in little scoops； and
ran dark between。 They saw a robin glance its bright eyes and
burst scarlet and grey into the hedge； then some pertly…marked
blue…tits scuffled。 Meanwhile the brook slid on coldly；
chuckling to itself。
The girls wandered across the snowy grass to where the
artificial fish…ponds lay under thin ice。 There was a big tree
with a thick trunk twisted with ivy； that hung almost horizontal
over the ponds。 Ursula climbed joyfully into this and sat amid
bosses of bright ivy and dull berries。 Some ivy leaves were like
green spears held out； and tipped with snow。 The ice was seen
beneath them。
Maggie took out a book； and sitting lower down the trunk
began to read Coleridge's 〃Christabel〃。 Ursula half listened。
She was wildly thrilled。 Then she saw Anthony ing across the
snow； with his confident； slightly strutting stride。 His face
looked brown and hard against the snow； smiling with a sort of
tense confidence。
〃Hello！〃 she called to him。
A response went over his face； his head was lifted in an
answering； jerking gesture。
〃Hello！〃 he said。 〃You're like a bird in there。〃
And Ursula's laugh rang out。 She answered to the peculiar；
reedy twang in his penetrating voice。
She did not think of Anthony； yet she lived in a sort of
connection with him； in his world。 One evening she met him as
she was ing down the lane； and they walked side by side。
〃I think it's so lovely here；〃 she cried。
〃Do you？〃 he said。 〃I'm glad you like it。〃
There was a curious confidence in his voice。
〃Oh； I love it。 What more does one want than to live in this
beautiful place； and make things grow in your garden。 It is like
the Garden of Eden。〃
〃Is it？〃 he said； with a little laugh。 〃Yes……well； it's
not so bad〃 he was hesitating。 The pale gleam was
strong in his eyes； he was looking at her steadily； watching
her； as an animal might。 Something leaped in her soul。 She knew
he was going to suggest to her that she should be as he was。
〃Would you like to stay here with me？〃 he asked；
tentatively。
She blenched with fear and with the intense sensation of
proffered licence suggested to her。
They had e to the gate。
〃How？〃 she asked。 〃You aren't alone here。〃
〃We could marry；〃 he answered； in the strange；
coldly…gleaming insinuating tone that chilled the sunshine into
moonlight。 All substantial things seemed transformed。 Shadows
and dancing moonlight were real； and all cold； inhuman； gleaming
sensations。 She realized with something like terror that she was
going to accept this。 She was going inevitably to accept him。
His hand was reaching out to the gate before them。 She stood
still。 His flesh was hard and brown and final。 She seemed to be
in the grip of some insult。
〃I couldn't；〃 she answered； involuntarily。
He gave the same brief； neighing little laugh； very sad and
bitter now； and slotted back the bar of the gate。 Yet he did not
open。 For a moment they both stood looking at the fire of sunset
that quivered among the purple twigs of the trees。 She saw his
brown； hard； well…hewn face gleaming with anger and humiliation
and submission。 He was an animal that knows that it is subdued。
Her heart flamed with sensation of him； of the fascinating thing
he offered her； and with sorrow； and with an inconsolable sense
of loneliness。 Her soul was an infant crying in the night。 He
had no soul。 Oh； and why had she？ He was the cleaner。
She turned away； she turned round from him； and saw the east
flushed strangely rose； the moon ing yellow and lovely upon a
rosy sky； above the darkening； bluish snow。 All this so
beautiful； all this so lovely！ He did not see it。 He was one
with it。 But she saw it； and was one with it。 Her seeing
separated them infinitely。
They went on in silence down the path； following their
different fates。 The trees grew darker and darker； the snow made
only a dimness in an unreal world。 And like a shadow； the day
had gone into a faintly luminous； snowy evening； while she was
talking aimlessly to him； to keep him at a distance； yet to keep
him near her； and he walked heavily。 He opened the garden gate
for her quietly； and she was entering into her own pleasances；
leaving him outside the gate。
Then even whilst she was escaping； or trying to escape； this
feeling of pain； came Maggie the next day； saying：
〃I wouldn't make Anthony love you； Ursula； if you don't want
him。 It is not nice。〃
〃But； Maggie； I never made him love me；〃 cried Ursula；
dismayed and suffering； and feeling as if she had done something
base。
She liked Anthony； though。 All her life； at intervals； she
returned to the thought of him and of that which he offered。 But
she was a traveller； she was a traveller on the face of the
earth； and he was an isolated creature living in the fulfilment
of his own senses。
She could not help it； that she was a traveller。 She knew
Anthony； that he was not one。 But oh； ultimately and finally；
she must go on and on； seeking the goal that she knew she did
draw nearer to。
She was wearing away her second and last cycle at St。
Philip's。 As the months went she ticked them off； first October；
then November； December； January。 She was careful always to
subtract a month from the remainder； for the summer holidays。
She saw herself travelling round a circle； only an arc of which
remained to plete。 Then； she was in the open； like a bird
tossed into mid…air； a bird that had learned in some measure to
fly。
There was college ahead； that was her mid…air； unknown；
spacious。 e college； and she would have broken from the
confines of all the life she had known。 For her father was also
going to move。 They were all going to leave Cossethay。
Brangwen had kept his carelessness about his circumstances。
He knew his work in the lace designing meant little to him
personally； he just earned his wage by it。 He did not know what
meant much to him。 Living close to Anna Brangwen； his mind was
always suffused through with physical heat； he moved from
instinct to instinct； groping； always groping on。
When it was suggested to him that he might apply for one of
the posts as hand…work instructor； posts about to be created by
the Nottingham Education mittee； it was as if a space had
been given to him； into which he could remove from his hot；
dusky enclosure。 He sent in his application； confidently；
expectantly。 He had a sort of belief in his supernatural fate。
The inevitable weariness of his daily work had stiffened some of
his muscles； and made a slight deadness in his ruddy； alert
face。 Now he might escape。
He was full of the new possibilities； and his wife was
acquiescent。 She was willing now to have a change。 She too was
tired of Cossethay。 The house was too small for the growing
children。 And since she was nearly forty years old； she began to
e awake from her sleep of motherhood； her energy moved more
outwards。 The din of growing lives roused her from