were a wonder to her。 She always thought about them； and
wondered over them。 She never wanted to kiss him back。 In her
idea； the man kissed； and the woman examined in her soul the
kisses she had received。
She had never quite recovered from her prostration of the
first days； or nights； of marriage。 He had taken her to Vienna；
and she was utterly alone with him； utterly alone in another
world； everything； everything foreign； even he foreign to her。
Then came the real marriage； passion came to her； and she became
his slave； he was her lord； her lord。 She was the girl…bride；
the slave； she kissed his feet； she had thought it an honour to
touch his body； to unfasten his boots。 For two years； she had
gone on as his slave； crouching at his feet； embracing his
knees。
Children had e； he had followed his ideas。 She was there
for him； just to keep him in condition。 She was to him one of
the baser or material conditions necessary for his welfare in
prosecuting his ideas； of nationalism； of liberty； of
science。
But gradually； at twenty…three； twenty…four； she began to
realize that she too might consider these ideas。 By his
acceptance of her self…subordination； he exhausted the feeling
in her。 There were those of his associates who would discuss the
ideas with her； though he did not wish to do so himself。 She
adventured into the minds of other men。 His； then； was not the
only male mind！ She did not exist； then； just as his attribute！
She began to perceive the attention of other men。 An excitement
came over her。 She remembered now the men who had paid her
court； when she was married； in Warsaw。
Then the rebellion broke out； and she was inspired too。 She
would go as a nurse at her husband's side。 He worked like a
lion； he wore his life out。 And she followed him helplessly。 But
she disbelieved in him。 He was so separate； he ignored so much。
He counted too much on himself。 His work； his ideas；……did
nothing else matter？
Then the children were dead； and for her； everything became
remote。 He became remote。 She saw him； she saw him go white when
he heard the news； then frown； as if he thought； 〃Why
have they died now； when I have no time to grieve？〃
〃He has no time to grieve；〃 she had said； in her remote；
awful soul。 〃He has no time。 It is so important； what he does！
He is then so self…important； this half…frenzied man！ Nothing
matters； but this work of rebellion！ He has not time to grieve；
nor to think of his children！ He had not time even to beget
them； really。〃
She had let him go on alone。 But； in the chaos； she had
worked by his side again。 And out of the chaos； she had fled
with him to London。
He was a broken； cold man。 He had no affection for her； nor
for anyone。 He had failed in his work； so everything had failed。
He stiffened； and died。
She could not subscribe。 He had failed； everything had
failed； yet behind the failure was the unyielding passion of
life。 The individual effort might fail； but not the human joy。
She belonged to the human joy。
He died and went his way； but not before there was another
child。 And this little Ursula was his grandchild。 She was glad
of it。 For she still honoured him； though he had been
mistaken。
She； Lydia Brangwen； was sorry for him now。 He was
dead……he had scarcely lived。 He had never known her。 He had
lain with her； but he had never known her。 He had never received
what she could give him。 He had gone away from her empty。 So； he
had never lived。 So； he had died and passed away。 Yet there had
been strength and power in him。
She could scarcely forgive him that he had never lived。 If it
were not for Anna； and for this little Ursula； who had his
brows； there would be no more left of him than of a broken
vessel thrown away； and just remembered。
Tom Brangwen had served her。 He had e to her； and taken
from her。 He had died and gone his way into death。 But he had
made himself immortal in his knowledge with her。 So she had her
place here； in life； and in immortality。 For he had taken his
knowledge of her into death； so that she had her place in death。
〃In my father's house are many mansions。〃
She loved both her husbands。 To one she had been a naked
little girl…bride； running to serve him。 The other she loved out
of fulfilment； because he was good and had given her being；
because he had served her honourably； and bee her man； one
with her。
She was established in this stretch of life； she had e to
herself。 During her first marriage； she had not existed； except
through him； he was the substance and she the shadow running at
his feet。 She was very glad she had e to her own self。 She
was grateful to Brangwen。 She reached out to him in gratitude；
into death。
In her heart she felt a vague tenderness and pity for her
first husband； who had been her lord。 He was so wrong when he
died。 She could not bear it； that he had never lived； never
really bee himself。 And he had been her lord！ Strange； it all
had been！ Why had he been her lord？ He seemed now so far off； so
without bearing on her。
〃Which did you； grandmother？〃
〃What？〃
〃Like best。〃
〃I liked them both。 I married the first when I was quite a
girl。 Then I loved your grandfather when I was a woman。 There is
a difference。〃
They were silent for a time。
〃Did you cry when my first grandfather died？〃 the child
asked。
Lydia Brangwen rocked herself on the bed； thinking aloud。
〃When we came to England； he hardly ever spoke； he was too
much concerned to take any notice of anybody。 He grew thinner
and thinner； till his cheeks were hollow and his mouth stuck
out。 He wasn't handsome any more。 I knew he couldn't bear being
beaten； I thought everything was lost in the world。 Only I had
your mother a baby； it was no use my dying。
〃He looked at me with his black eyes； almost as if he hated
me； when he was ill； and said； 'It only wanted this。 It only
wanted that I should leave you and a young child to starve in
this London。' I told him we should not starve。 But I was young；
and foolish； and frightened； which he knew。
〃He was bitter； and he never gave way。 He lay beating his
brains； to see what he could do。 'I don't know what you will
do；' he said。 'I am no good； I am a failure from beginning to
end。 I cannot even provide for my wife and child！'
〃But you see； it was not for him to provide for us。 My life
went on； though his stopped； and I married your grandfather。
〃I ought to have known； I ought to have been able to say to
him： 'Don't be so bitter； don't die because this has failed。 You
are not the beginning and the end。' But I was too young； he had
never let me bee myself； I thought he was truly the beginning
and the end。 So I let him take all upon himself。 Yet all did not
depend on him。 Life must go on； and I must marry your
grandfather； and have your Uncle Tom； and your Uncle Fred。 We
cannot take so much upon ourselves。〃
The child's heart beat fast as she listened to these things。
She could not understand； but she seemed to feel far…off things。
It gave her a deep； joyous thrill； to know she hailed from far
off； from Poland； and that dark…bearded impressive man。 Strange；
her antecedents were； and she felt fate