第7章
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  Shewasnotclumsy,andyetnoneofhermovementsseemedquite,THEmovement。Often,whenwipingthedishes,shewouldstand,inbewildermentandchagrinbecauseshehadpulledintwohalves,acuporatumbler。Itwasasif,inherfearandself-mistrust,sheputtoomuchstrengthintotheeffort。Therewasnolooseness,orabandonabouther。Everythingwasgrippedstiffwithintensity,andhereffort,overcharged,closedinonitself。

  Sherarelyvariedfromherswinging,forward,intensewalk。

  OccasionallysheranwithPauldownthefields。Thenhereyes,blazednakedinakindofecstasythatfrightenedhim。Butshewas,physicallyafraid。Ifsheweregettingoverastile,shegrippedhis,handsinalittlehardanguish,andbegantoloseherpresenceofmind。

  Andhecouldnotpersuadehertojumpfromevenasmallheight。

  Hereyesdilated,becameexposedandpalpitating。

  “No!”shecried,halflaughinginterror——“no!”

  “Youshall!”hecriedonce,and,jerkingherforward,hebrought,herfallingfromthefence。Butherwild“Ah!”ofpain,asifshe,werelosingconsciousness,cuthim。Shelandedonherfeetsafely,andafterwardshadcourageinthisrespect。

  Shewasverymuchdissatisfiedwithherlot。

  “Don’tyoulikebeingathome?”Paulaskedher,surprised。

  “Whowould?”sheanswered,lowandintense。”Whatisit?

  I’malldaycleaningwhattheboysmakejustasbadinfiveminutes。

  Idon’tWANTtobeathome。”

  “Whatdoyouwant,then?”

  “Iwanttodosomething。Iwantachancelikeanybodyelse。

  Whyshould1,becauseI’magirl,bekeptathomeandnotallowed,tobeanything?,WhatchanceHAVEI?”

  “Chanceofwhat?”

  “Ofknowinganything——oflearning,ofdoinganything。

  It’snotfair,becauseI’mawoman。”

  Sheseemedverybitter。Paulwondered。InhisownhomeAnnie,wasalmostgladtobeagirl。Shehadnotsomuchresponsibility;

  thingswerelighterforher。Sheneverwantedtobeotherthanagirl。

  ButMiriamalmostfiercelywishedshewereaman。Andyetshehated,menatthesametime。

  “Butit’saswelltobeawomanasaman,“hesaid,frowning。

  “Ha!Isit?,Menhaveeverything。”

  “Ishouldthinkwomenoughttobeasgladtobewomenasmen,aretobemen,“heanswered。

  “No!”——sheshookherhead——“no!Everythingthemenhave。”

  “Butwhatdoyouwant?”heasked。

  “Iwanttolearn。WhySHOULDitbethatIknownothing?”

  “What!suchasmathematicsandFrench?”

  “WhySHOULDN’TIknowmathematics?,Yes!”shecried,hereye,expandinginakindofdefiance。

  “Well,youcanlearnasmuchasIknow,“hesaid。”I’llteachyou,ifyoulike。”

  Hereyesdilated。Shemistrustedhimasteacher。

  “Wouldyou?”heasked。

  Herheadhaddropped,andshewassuckingherfingerbroodingly。

  “Yes,“shesaidhesitatingly。

  Heusedtotellhismotherallthesethings。

  “I’mgoingtoteachMiriamalgebra,“hesaid。

  “Well,“repliedMrs。Morel,“Ihopeshe’llgetfatonit。”

  WhenhewentuptothefarmontheMondayevening,itwas,drawingtwilight。Miriamwasjustsweepingupthekitchen,andwas,kneelingatthehearthwhenheentered。Everyonewasoutbuther。

  Shelookedroundathim,flushed,herdarkeyesshining,herfine,hairfallingaboutherface。

  “Hello!”shesaid,softandmusical。”Iknewitwasyou。”

  “How?”

  “Iknewyourstep。Nobodytreadssoquickandfirm。”

  Hesatdown,sighing。

  “Readytodosomealgebra?”heasked,drawingalittlebook,fromhispocket。

  “But——“

  Hecouldfeelherbackingaway。

  “Yousaidyouwanted,“heinsisted。

  “To-night,though?”shefaltered。

  “ButIcameonpurpose。Andifyouwanttolearnit,youmustbegin。”

  Shetookupherashesinthedustpanandlookedathim,halftremulously,laughing。

  “Yes,butto-night!Yousee,Ihaven’tthoughtofit。”

  “Well,mygoodness!,Taketheashesandcome。”

  Hewentandsatonthestonebenchintheback-yard,where,thebigmilk-canswerestanding,tippedup,toair。Themenwere,inthecowsheds。Hecouldhearthelittlesing-songofthemilk,spurtingintothepails。Presentlyshecame,bringingsomebig,greenishapples。

  “Youknowyoulikethem,“shesaid。

  Hetookabite。

  “Sitdown,“hesaid,withhismouthfull。

  Shewasshort-sighted,andpeeredoverhisshoulder。

  Itirritatedhim。Hegaveherthebookquickly。

  “Here,“hesaid。”It’sonlylettersforfigures。Youput,down’a’insteadof’2’or’6’。”

  Theyworked,hetalking,shewithherheaddownonthebook。

  Hewasquickandhasty。Sheneveranswered。Occasionally,whenhe,demandedofher,“Doyousee?”shelookedupathim,hereyeswide,withthehalf-laughthatcomesoffear。”Don’tyou?”hecried。

  Hehadbeentoofast。Butshesaidnothing。Hequestioned,hermore,thengothot。Itmadehisbloodrousetoseeherthere,asitwere,athismercy,hermouthopen,hereyesdilatedwith,laughterthatwasafraid,apologetic,ashamed。ThenEdgarcame,alongwithtwobucketsofmilk。

  “Hello!”hesaid。”Whatareyoudoing?”

  “Algebra,“repliedPaul。

  “Algebra!”repeatedEdgarcuriously。Thenhepassedonwith,alaugh。Paultookabiteathisforgottenapple,lookedatthe,miserablecabbagesinthegarden,peckedintolacebythefowls,andhewantedtopullthemup。ThenheglancedatMiriam。

  Shewasporingoverthebook,seemedabsorbedinit,yettrembling,lestshecouldnotgetatit。Itmadehimcross。Shewasruddy,andbeautiful。Yethersoulseemedtobeintenselysupplicating。

  Thealgebra-booksheclosed,shrinking,knowinghewasangered;

  andatthesameinstanthegrewgentle,seeingherhurtbecauseshedid,notunderstand。

  Butthingscameslowlytoher。Andwhensheheldherself,inagrip,seemedsoutterlyhumblebeforethelesson,itmadehis,bloodrouse。Hestormedather,gotashamed,continuedthelesson,andgrewfuriousagain,abusingher。Shelistenedinsilence。

  Occasionally,veryrarely,shedefendedherself。Herliquiddark,eyesblazedathim。

  “Youdon’tgivemetimetolearnit,“shesaid。

  “Allright,“heanswered,throwingthebookonthetableandlighting,acigarette。Then,afterawhile,hewentbacktoherrepentant。

  Sothelessonswent。Hewasalwayseitherinarageorverygentle。

  “WhatdoyoutrembleyourSOULbeforeitfor?”hecried。

  “Youdon’tlearnalgebrawithyourblessedsoul。Can’tyoulook,atitwithyourclearsimplewits?”

  Often,whenhewentagainintothekitchen,Mrs。Leiverswould,lookathimreproachfully,saying:

  “Paul,don’tbesohardonMiriam。Shemaynotbequick,butI’msureshetries。”

  “Ican’thelpit,“hesaidratherpitiably。”Igoofflikeit。”

  “Youdon’tmindme,Miriam,doyou?”heaskedofthegirllater。

  “No,“shereassuredhiminherbeautifuldeeptones——“no,I

  don’tmind。”

  “Don’tmindme;it’smyfault。”

  But,inspiteofhimself,hisbloodbegantoboilwithher。

  Itwasstrangethatnooneelsemadehiminsuchfury。

  Heflaredagainsther。Oncehethrewthepencilinherface。

  Therewasasilence。Sheturnedherfaceslightlyaside。

  “Ididn’t——“hebegan,butgotnofarther,feelingweakin,allhisbones。Sheneverreproachedhimorwasangrywithhim。

  Hewasoftencruellyashamed。Butstillagainhisangerburst,likeabubblesurcharged;andstill,whenhesawhereager,silent,asitwere,blindface,hefelthewantedtothrowthepencil,init;andstill,whenhesawherhandtremblingandhermouth,partedwithsuffering,hisheartwasscaldedwithpainforher。

  Andbecauseoftheintensitytowhichsherousedhim,hesoughther。

  ThenheoftenavoidedherandwentwithEdgar。Miriamand,herbrotherwerenaturallyantagonistic。Edgarwasarationalist,whowascurious,andhadasortofscientificinterestinlife。

  ItwasagreatbitternesstoMiriamtoseeherselfdesertedbyPaul,forEdgar,whoseemedsomuchlower。Buttheyouthwasveryhappy,withherelderbrother。Thetwomenspentafternoonstogether,onthelandorintheloftdoingcarpentry,whenitrained。

  Andtheytalkedtogether,orPaultaughtEdgarthesongshehimself,hadlearnedfromAnnieatthepiano。Andoftenallthemen,Mr。Leiversaswell,hadbitterdebatesonthenationalizingoftheland,andsimilarproblems。Paulhadalreadyheardhismother’sviews,andasthesewereasyethisown,hearguedforher。Miriamattended,andtookpart,butwasallthetimewaitinguntilitshouldbeover,andapersonalcommunicationmightbegin。

  “Afterall,“shesaidwithinherself,“iftheland,werenationalized,EdgarandPaulandIwouldbejustthesame。”

  Soshewaitedfortheyouthtocomebacktoher。

  Hewasstudyingforhispainting。Helovedtositathome,alonewithhismother,atnight,workingandworking。Shesewed,orread。Then,lookingupfromhistask,hewouldresthiseyes,foramomentonherface,thatwasbrightwithlivingwarmth,andhereturnedgladlytohiswork。

  “Icandomybestthingswhenyousitthereinyour,rocking-chair,mother,“hesaid。

  “I’msure!”sheexclaimed,sniffingwithmockscepticism。

  Butshefeltitwasso,andherheartquiveredwithbrightness。

  Formanyhoursshesatstill,slightlyconsciousofhimlabouringaway,whilstsheworkedorreadherbook。Andhe,withallhissoul’s,intensitydirectinghispencil,couldfeelherwarmthinsidehim,likestrength。Theywerebothveryhappyso,andbothunconscious,ofit。Thesetimes,thatmeantsomuch,andwhichwererealliving,theyalmostignored。

  Hewasconsciousonlywhenstimulated。Asketchfinished,healwayswantedtotakeittoMiriam。Thenhewasstimulated,intoknowledgeoftheworkhehadproducedunconsciously。

  IncontactwithMiriamhegainedinsight;hisvisionwentdeeper。

  Fromhismotherhedrewthelife-warmth,thestrengthtoproduce;

  Miriamurgedthiswarmthintointensitylikeawhitelight。

  Whenhereturnedtothefactorytheconditionsofworkwerebetter。

  HehadWednesdayafternoonofftogototheArtSchool——

  MissJordan’sprovision——returningintheevening。Thenthefactory,closedatsixinsteadofeightonThursdayandFridayevenings。

  OneeveninginthesummerMiriamandhewentoverthefields,byHerod’sFarmontheirwayfromthelibraryhome。Soitwas,onlythreemilestoWilleyFarm。Therewasayellowglowoverthe,mowing-grass,andthesorrel-headsburnedcrimson。Gradually,asthey,walkedalongthehighland,thegoldinthewestsankdowntored,theredtocrimson,andthenthechillbluecreptupagainsttheglow。

  TheycameoutuponthehighroadtoAlfreton,whichran,whitebetweenthedarkeningfields。TherePaulhesitated。

  Itwastwomileshomeforhim,onemileforwardforMiriam。

  Theybothlookeduptheroadthatraninshadowrightunderthe,glowofthenorth-westsky。Onthecrestofthehill,Selby,withitsstarkhousesandtheup-prickedheadstocksofthepit,stoodinblacksilhouettesmallagainstthesky。

  Helookedathiswatch。

  “Nineo’clock!”hesaid。

  Thepairstood,lothtopart,huggingtheirbooks。

  “Thewoodissolovelynow,“shesaid。”Iwantedyoutoseeit。”

  Hefollowedherslowlyacrosstheroadtothewhitegate。

  “TheygrumblesoifI’mlate,“hesaid。

  “Butyou’renotdoinganythingwrong,“sheansweredimpatiently。

  Hefollowedheracrossthenibbledpastureinthedusk。

  Therewasacoolnessinthewood,ascentofleaves,ofhoneysuckle,andatwilight。Thetwowalkedinsilence。Nightcamewonderfullythere,amongthethrongofdarktree-trunks。Helookedround,expectant。

  Shewantedtoshowhimacertainwild-rosebushshe,haddiscovered。Sheknewitwaswonderful。Andyet,tillhehadseenit,shefeltithadnotcomeintohersoul。

  Onlyhecouldmakeitherown,immortal。Shewasdissatisfied。

  Dewwasalreadyonthepaths。Intheoldoak-woodamist,wasrising,andhehesitated,wonderingwhetheronewhiteness,wereastrandoffogoronlycampion-flowerspallidinacloud。

  Bythetimetheycametothepine-treesMiriamwasgettingvery,eagerandverytense。Herbushmightbegone。Shemightnotbe,abletofindit;andshewanteditsomuch。Almostpassionately,shewantedtobewithhimwhenbestoodbeforetheflowers。

  Theyweregoingtohaveacommuniontogether——somethingthat,thrilledher,somethingholy。Hewaswalkingbesideherinsilence。

  Theywereveryneartoeachother。Shetrembled,andhelistened,vaguelyanxious。

  Comingtotheedgeofthewood,theysawtheskyinfront,likemother-of-pearl,andtheearthgrowingdark。Somewhereonthe,outermostbranchesofthepine-woodthehoneysucklewasstreamingscent。

  “Where?”heasked。

  “Downthemiddlepath,“shemurmured,quivering。

  Whentheyturnedthecornerofthepathshestoodstill。

  Inthewidewalkbetweenthepines,gazingratherfrightened,shecoulddistinguishnothingforsomemoments;thegreyinglight,robbedthingsoftheircolour。Thenshesawherbush。

  “Ah!”shecried,hasteningforward。

  Itwasverystill。Thetreewastallandstraggling。

  Ithadthrownitsbriersoverahawthorn-bush,anditslong,streamerstrailedthick,rightdowntothegrass,splashingthe,darknesseverywherewithgreatspiltstars,purewhite。Inbosses,ofivoryandinlargesplashedstarstherosesgleamedonthe,darknessoffoliageandstemsandgrass。PaulandMiriamstood,closetogether,silent,andwatched。Pointafterpointthesteady,rosesshoneouttothem,seemingtokindlesomethingintheirsouls。

  Theduskcamelikesmokearound,andstilldidnotputouttheroses。

  PaullookedintoMiriam’seyes。Shewaspaleandexpectant,withwonder,herlipswereparted,andherdarkeyeslayopentohim。

  Hislookseemedtotraveldownintoher。Hersoulquivered。

  Itwasthecommunionshewanted。Heturnedaside,asifpained。

  Heturnedtothebush。

  “Theyseemasiftheywalklikebutterflies,andshakethemselves,“

  hesaid。

  Shelookedatherroses。Theywerewhite,someincurvedandholy,othersexpandedinanecstasy。Thetreewasdarkasashadow。

  Sheliftedherhandimpulsivelytotheflowers;shewentforward,andtouchedtheminworship。

  “Letusgo,“hesaid。

  Therewasacoolscentofivoryroses——awhite,virginscent。

  Somethingmadehimfeelanxiousandimprisoned。Thetwowalked,insilence。

  “TillSunday,“hesaidquietly,andlefther;andshewalked,homeslowly,feelinghersoulsatisfiedwiththeholinessofthenight。

  Hestumbleddownthepath。Andassoonashewasoutofthewood,inthefreeopenmeadow,wherehecouldbreathe,hestartedtorun,asfastashecould。Itwaslikeadeliciousdeliriuminhisveins。

  AlwayswhenhewentwithMiriam,anditgrewratherlate,heknew,hismotherwasfrettingandgettingangryabouthim——why,hecould,notunderstand。Ashewentintothehouse,flingingdownhiscap,hismotherlookedupattheclock。Shehadbeensittingthinking,becauseachilltohereyespreventedherreading。Shecouldfeel,Paulbeingdrawnawaybythisgirl。AndshedidnotcareforMiriam。

  “Sheisoneofthosewhowillwanttosuckaman’ssoulouttill,hehasnoneofhisownleft,“shesaidtoherself;“andheisjust,suchagabyastolethimselfbeabsorbed。Shewillneverlethim,becomeaman;sheneverwill。”,So,whilehewasawaywithMiriam,Mrs。Morelgrewmoreandmoreworkedup。

  Sheglancedattheclockandsaid,coldlyandrathertired:

  “Youhavebeenfarenoughto-night。”

  Hissoul,warmandexposedfromcontactwiththegirl,shrank。

  “Youmusthavebeenrighthomewithher,“hismothercontinued。

  Hewouldnotanswer。Mrs。Morel,lookingathimquickly,sawhishairwasdamponhisforeheadwithhaste,sawhimfrowning,inhisheavyfashion,resentfully。

  “Shemustbewonderfullyfascinating,thatyoucan’tgetaway,fromher,butmustgotrailingeightmilesatthistimeofnight。”

  HewashurtbetweenthepastglamourwithMiriamandthe,knowledgethathismotherfretted。Hehadmeantnottosayanything,torefusetoanswer。Buthecouldnothardenhishearttoignore,hismother。

  “IDOliketotalktoher,“heansweredirritably。

  “Istherenobodyelsetotalkto?”

  “Youwouldn’tsayanythingifIwentwithEdgar。”

  “YouknowIshould。Youknow,whoeveryouwentwith,Ishouldsayitwastoofarforyoutogotrailing,lateatnight,whenyou’vebeentoNottingham。Besides“——hervoicesuddenlyflashed,intoangerandcontempt——“itisdisgusting——bits,ofladsandgirlscourting。”

  “ItisNOTcourting,“hecried。

  “Idon’tknowwhatelseyoucallit。”

  “It’snot!,DoyouthinkweSPOONanddo?,Weonlytalk。”

  “Tillgoodnessknowswhattimeanddistance,“wasthe,sarcasticrejoinder。

  Paulsnappedatthelacesofhisbootsangrily。

  “Whatareyousomadabout?”heasked。”Becauseyoudon’t,likeher。”

  “Idon’tsayIdon’tlikeher。ButIdon’tholdwithchildren,keepingcompany,andneverdid。”

  “Butyoudon’tmindourAnniegoingoutwithJimInger。”

  “They’vemoresensethanyoutwo。”

  “Why?”

  “OurAnnie’snotoneofthedeepsort。”

  Hefailedtoseethemeaningofthisremark。Buthismother,lookedtired。ShewasneversostrongafterWilliam’sdeath;

  andhereyeshurther。

  “Well,“hesaid,“it’ssoprettyinthecountry。Mr。Sleath,askedaboutyou。Hesaidhe’dmissedyou。Areyouabitbetter?”

  “Ioughttohavebeeninbedalongtimeago,“shereplied。

  “Why,mother,youknowyouwouldn’thavegonebefore,quarter-pastten。”

  “Oh,yes,Ishould!”

  “Oh,littlewoman,you’dsayanythingnowyou’redisagreeable,withme,wouldn’tyou?”

  Hekissedherforeheadthatheknewsowell:,thedeepmarks,betweenthebrows,therisingofthefinehair,greyingnow,andthe,proudsettingofthetemples。Hishandlingeredonhershoulder,afterhiskiss。Thenhewentslowlytobed。HehadforgottenMiriam;

  heonlysawhowhismother’shairwasliftedbackfromherwarm,broadbrow。Andsomehow,shewashurt。

  ThenthenexttimehesawMiriamhesaidtoher:

  “Don’tletmebelateto-night——notlaterthanteno’clock。My,mothergetssoupset。”

  Miriamdroppedherbead,brooding。

  “Whydoesshegetupset?”sheasked。

  “BecauseshesaysIoughtn’ttobeoutlatewhenIhavetoget,upearly。”

  “Verywell!”saidMiriam,ratherquietly,withjustatouch,ofasneer。

  Heresentedthat。Andhewasusuallylateagain。

  ThattherewasanylovegrowingbetweenhimandMiriamneither,ofthemwouldhaveacknowledged。Hethoughthewastoosanefor,suchsentimentality,andshethoughtherselftoolofty。Theybothwere,lateincomingtomaturity,andpsychicalripenesswasmuchbehind,eventhephysical。Miriamwasexceedinglysensitive,ashermother,hadalwaysbeen。Theslightestgrossnessmadeherrecoilalmost,inanguish。Herbrotherswerebrutal,butnevercoarseinspeech。

  Themendidallthediscussingoffarmmattersoutside。But,perhaps,becauseofthecontinualbusinessofbirthandofbegettingwhichgoes,onuponeveryfarm,Miriamwasthemorehypersensitivetothematter,andherbloodwaschastenedalmosttodisgustofthefaintest,suggestionofsuchintercourse。Paultookhispitchfromher,andtheirintimacywentoninanutterlyblanchedandchastefashion。

  Itcouldneverbementionedthatthemarewasinfoal。

  Whenhewasnineteen,hewasearningonlytwentyshillingsaweek,buthewashappy。Hispaintingwentwell,andlifewentwellenough。

  OntheGoodFridayheorganisedawalktotheHemlockStone。

  Therewerethreeladsofhisownage,thenAnnieandArthur,MiriamandGeoffrey。Arthur,apprenticedasanelectrician,inNottingham,washomefortheholiday。Morel,asusual,wasupearly,whistlingandsawingintheyard。Atseveno’clockthefamilyheard,himbuythreepennyworthofhot-crossbuns;hetalkedwithgusto,tothelittlegirlwhobroughtthem,callingher“mydarling“。He,turnedawayseveralboyswhocamewithmorebuns,tellingthem,theyhadbeen“kested“byalittlelass。ThenMrs。Morelgotup,andthefamilystraggleddown。Itwasanimmenseluxurytoeverybody,thislyinginbedjustbeyondtheordinarytimeonaweekday。

  AndPaulandArthurreadbeforebreakfast,andhadthemealunwashed,sittingintheirshirt-sleeves。Thiswasanotherholidayluxury。

  Theroomwaswarm。Everythingfeltfreeofcareandanxiety。

  Therewasasenseofplentyinthehouse。

  Whiletheboyswerereading,Mrs。Morelwentintothegarden。

  Theywerenowinanotherhouse,anoldone,neartheScargill,Streethome,whichhadbeenleftsoonafterWilliamhaddied。

  Directlycameanexcitedcryfromthegarden:

  “Paul!,Paul!,comeandlook!”

  Itwashismother’svoice。Hethrewdownhisbookandwentout。

  Therewasalonggardenthatrantoafield。Itwasagrey,coldday,withasharpwindblowingoutofDerbyshire。Twofieldsaway,Bestwoodbegan,withajumbleofroofsandredhouse-ends,outofwhich,rosethechurchtowerandthespireoftheCongregationalChapel。

  Andbeyondwentwoodsandhills,rightawaytothepalegreyheights,ofthePennineChain。

  Paullookeddownthegardenforhismother。Herheadappeared,amongtheyoungcurrant-bushes。

  “Comehere!”shecried。

  “Whatfor?”heanswered。

  “Comeandsee。”

  Shehadbeenlookingatthebudsonthecurranttrees。

  Paulwentup。

  “Tothink,“shesaid,“thathereImightneverhaveseenthem!”

  Hersonwenttoherside。Underthefence,inalittlebed,wasaravelofpoorgrassyleaves,suchascomefromveryimmaturebulbs,andthreescyllasinbloom。Mrs。Morelpointedtothedeepblueflowers。

  “Now,justseethose!”sheexclaimed。”Iwaslookingat,thecurrantbushes,when,thinksItomyself,’There’ssomething,veryblue;isitabitofsugar-bag?’andthere,beholdyou!

  Sugar-bag!Threegloriesofthesnow,andsuchbeauties!

  Butwhereonearthdidtheycomefrom?”

  “Idon’tknow,“saidPaul。

  “Well,that’samarvel,now!,ITHOUGHTIkneweveryweed,andbladeinthisgarden。ButHAVEN’Ttheydonewell?,Yousee,thatgooseberry-bushjustsheltersthem。Notnipped,nottouched!”

  Hecroucheddownandturnedupthebellsofthelittle,blueflowers。

  “They’reagloriouscolour!”hesaid。

  “Aren’tthey!”shecried。”IguesstheycomefromSwitzerland,wheretheysaytheyhavesuchlovelythings。Fancythemagainst,thesnow!,Butwherehavetheycomefrom?,Theycan’thaveBLOWNhere,canthey?”

  Thenherememberedhavingsetherealotoflittletrash,ofbulbstomature。

  “Andyounevertoldme,“shesaid。

  “No!,IthoughtI’dleaveittilltheymightflower。”

  “Andnow,yousee!,Imighthavemissedthem。AndI’venever,hadagloryofthesnowinmygardeninmylife。”

  Shewasfullofexcitementandelation。Thegardenwas,anendlessjoytoher。Paulwasthankfulforhersakeatlast,tobeinahousewithalonggardenthatwentdowntoafield。

  Everymorningafterbreakfastshewentoutandwashappypottering,aboutinit。Anditwastrue,shekneweveryweedandblade。

  Everybodyturnedupforthewalk。Foodwaspacked,andthey,setoff,amerry,delightedparty。Theyhungoverthewallofthe,mill-race,droppedpaperinthewaterononesideofthetunnel,andwatcheditshootoutontheother。Theystoodonthefoot-bridge,overBoathouseStationandlookedatthemetalsgleamingcoldly。

  “YoushouldseetheFlyingScotsmancomethroughathalf-pastsix!”

  saidLeonard,whosefatherwasasignalman。”Lad,butshedoesn’t,halfbuzz!”andthelittlepartylookedupthelinesoneway,toLondon,andtheotherway,toScotland,andtheyfeltthetouch,ofthesetwomagicalplaces。

  InIlkestonthecollierswerewaitingingangsforthe,public-housestoopen。Itwasatownofidlenessandlounging。

  AtStantonGatetheironfoundryblazed。Overeverythingtherewere,greatdiscussions。AtTrowelltheycrossedagainfromDerbyshire,intoNottinghamshire。TheycametotheHemlockStoneatdinner-time。

  ItsfieldwascrowdedwithfolkfromNottinghamandIlkeston。

  Theyhadexpectedavenerableanddignifiedmonument。

  Theyfoundalittle,gnarled,twistedstumpofrock,somethinglikea,decayedmushroom,standingoutpatheticallyonthesideofafield。

  LeonardandDickimmediatelyproceededtocarvetheirinitials,“L。W。”and“R。P。”,intheoldredsandstone;butPauldesisted,becausehehadreadinthenewspapersatiricalremarksabout,initial-carvers,whocouldfindnootherroadtoimmortality。

  Thenalltheladsclimbedtothetopoftherocktolookround。

  Everywhereinthefieldbelow,factorygirlsandladswereeating,lunchorsportingabout。Beyondwasthegardenofanoldmanor。

  Ithadyew-hedgesandthickclumpsandborders,ofyellowcrocusesroundthelawn。

  “See,“saidPaultoMiriam,“whataquietgarden!”

  Shesawthedarkyewsandthegoldencrocuses,thenshe,lookedgratefully。Hehadnotseemedtobelongtoheramongall,theseothers;hewasdifferentthen——notherPaul,whounderstood,theslightestquiverofherinnermostsoul,butsomethingelse,speakinganotherlanguagethanhers。Howithurther,anddeadened,herveryperceptions。Onlywhenhecamerightbacktoher,leavinghisother,hislesserself,asshethought,wouldshe,feelaliveagain。Andnowheaskedhertolookatthisgarden,wantingthecontactwithheragain。Impatientofthesetinthefield,sheturnedtothequietlawn,surroundedbysheavesofshut-upcrocuses。

  Afeelingofstillness,almostofecstasy,cameoverher。

  Itfeltalmostasifshewerealonewithhiminthisgarden。

  Thenheleftheragainandjoinedtheothers。Soonthey,startedhome。Miriamloiteredbehind,alone。Shedidnot,fitinwiththeothers;shecouldveryrarelygetintohuman,relationswithanyone:,soherfriend,hercompanion,herlover,wasNature。Shesawthesundecliningwanly。Inthedusky,coldhedgerowsweresomeredleaves。Shelingeredtogatherthem,tenderly,passionately。Theloveinherfinger-tipscaressed,theleaves;thepassioninherheartcametoaglowupontheleaves。

  Suddenlysherealisedshewasaloneinastrangeroad,andshehurriedforward。Turningacornerinthelane,shecame,uponPaul,whostoodbentoversomething,hismindfixedonit,workingawaysteadily,patiently,alittlehopelessly。Shehesitated,inherapproach,towatch。

  Heremainedconcentratedinthemiddleoftheroad。Beyond,oneriftofrichgoldinthatcolourlessgreyeveningseemedtomake,himstandoutindarkrelief。Shesawhim,slenderandfirm,asifthesettingsunhadgivenhimtoher。Adeeppaintookhold,ofher,andsheknewshemustlovehim。Andshehaddiscoveredhim,discoveredinhimararepotentiality,discoveredhisloneliness。

  Quiveringasatsome“annunciation“shewentslowlyforward。

  Atlasthelookedup。

  “Why,“heexclaimedgratefully,“haveyouwaitedforme!”

  Shesawadeepshadowinhiseyes。

  “Whatisit?”sheasked。

  “Thespringbrokenhere;“andheshowedherwherehisumbrella,wasinjured。

  Instantly,withsomeshame,sheknewhehadnotdone,thedamagehimself,butthatGeoffreywasresponsible。

  “Itisonlyanoldumbrella,isn’tit?”sheasked。

  Shewonderedwhyhe,whodidnotusuallytroubleovertrifles,madesuchamountainofthismolehill。

  “ButitwasWilliam’san’mymothercan’thelpbutknow,“

  hesaidquietly,stillpatientlyworkingattheumbrella。

  ThewordswentthroughMiriamlikeablade。This,then,wasthe,confirmationofhervisionofhim!,Shelookedathim。Butthere,wasabouthimacertainreserve,andshedarednotcomforthim,notevenspeaksoftlytohim。

  “Comeon,“hesaid。”Ican’tdoit;“andtheywentinsilence,alongtheroad。

  Thatsameeveningtheywerewalkingalongunderthetrees,byNetherGreen。Hewastalkingtoherfretfully,seemedtobe,strugglingtoconvincehimself。

  “Youknow,“hesaid,withaneffort,“ifonepersonloves,theotherdoes。”

  “Ah!”sheanswered。”LikemothersaidtomewhenIwaslittle,’Lovebegetslove。’“

  “Yes,somethinglikethat,IthinkitMUSTbe。”

  “Ihopeso,because,ifitwerenot,lovemightbeavery,terriblething,“shesaid。

  “Yes,butitIS——atleastwithmostpeople,“heanswered。

  AndMiriam,thinkinghehadassuredhimself,feltstrong,inherself。Shealwaysregardedthatsuddencominguponhim,inthelaneasarevelation。Andthisconversationremained,graveninhermindasoneofthelettersofthelaw。

  Nowshestoodwithhimandforhim。When,aboutthistime,heoutragedthefamilyfeelingatWilleyFarmbysomeoverbearinginsult,shestucktohim,andbelievedhewasright。Andatthistimeshe,dreameddreamsofhim,vivid,unforgettable。Thesedreamscame,againlateron,developedtoamoresubtlepsychologicalstage。

  OntheEasterMondaythesamepartytookanexcursion,toWingfieldManor。ItwasgreatexcitementtoMiriamtocatcha,trainatSethleyBridge,amidallthebustleoftheBankHolidaycrowd。

  TheyleftthetrainatAlfreton。Paulwasinterestedinthe,streetandinthecollierswiththeirdogs。Herewasanewrace,ofminers。Miriamdidnotlivetilltheycametothechurch。

  Theywereallrathertimidofentering,withtheirbagsoffood,forfearofbeingturnedout。Leonard,acomic,thinfellow,wentfirst;Paul,whowouldhavediedratherthanbesentback,wentlast。TheplacewasdecoratedforEaster。Inthefonthundreds,ofwhitenarcissiseemedtobegrowing。Theairwasdimandcoloured,fromthewindowsandthrilledwithasubtlescentoflilies,andnarcissi。InthatatmosphereMiriam’ssoulcameintoaglow。

  Paulwasafraidofthethingshemustn’tdo;andhewassensitive,tothefeeloftheplace。Miriamturnedtohim。Heanswered。

  Theyweretogether。HewouldnotgobeyondtheCommunion-rail。She,lovedhimforthat。Hersoulexpandedintoprayerbesidehim。

  Hefeltthestrangefascinationofshadowyreligiousplaces。

  Allhislatentmysticismquiveredintolife。Shewasdrawntohim。

  Hewasaprayeralongwithher。

  Miriamveryrarelytalkedtotheotherlads。Theyatonce,becameawkwardinconversationwithher。Sousuallyshewassilent。

  Itwaspastmiddaywhentheyclimbedthesteeppathtothemanor。

  Allthingsshonesoftlyinthesun,whichwaswonderfullywarm,andenlivening。Celandinesandvioletswereout。Everybodywas,tip-topfullwithhappiness。Theglitteroftheivy,thesoft,atmosphericgreyofthecastlewalls,thegentlenessofeverything,neartheruin,wasperfect。

  Themanorisofhard,palegreystone,andtheotherwalls,areblankandcalm。Theyoungfolkwereinraptures。Theywent,intrepidation,almostafraidthatthedelightofexploringthis,ruinmightbedeniedthem。Inthefirstcourtyard,withinthehigh,brokenwalls,werefarm-carts,withtheirshaftslyingidleon,theground,thetyresofthewheelsbrilliantwithgold-redrust。

  Itwasverystill。

  Alleagerlypaidtheirsixpences,andwenttimidlythrough,thefinecleanarchoftheinnercourtyard。Theywereshy。

  Hereonthepavement,wherethehallhadbeen,anoldthorntree,wasbudding。Allkindsofstrangeopeningsandbrokenroomswere,intheshadowaroundthem。

  Afterlunchtheysetoffoncemoretoexploretheruin。

  Thistimethegirlswentwiththeboys,whocouldactasguides,andexpositors。Therewasonetalltowerinacorner,rathertottering,wheretheysayMaryQueenofScotswasimprisoned。

  “ThinkoftheQueengoinguphere!”saidMiriaminalowvoice,assheclimbedthehollowstairs。

  “Ifshecouldgetup,“saidPaul,“forshehadrheumatism,likeanything。Ireckontheytreatedherrottenly。”

  “Youdon’tthinkshedeservedit?”askedMiriam。

  “No,Idon’t。Shewasonlylively。”

  Theycontinuedtomountthewindingstaircase。Ahighwind,blowingthroughtheloopholes,wentrushinguptheshaft,andfilledthegirl’sskirtslikeaballoon,sothatshewasashamed,untilhetookthehemofherdressandhelditdownforher。

  Hediditperfectlysimply,ashewouldhavepickedupherglove。

  Sherememberedthisalways。

  Roundthebrokentopofthetowertheivybushedout,oldandhandsome。Also,therewereafewchillgillivers,inpalecoldbud。Miriamwantedtoleanoverforsomeivy,buthewouldnotlether。Instead,shehadtowaitbehindhim,andtakefromhimeachsprayashegathereditandheldittoher,eachoneseparately,inthepurestmannerofchivalry。Thetower,seemedtorockinthewind。Theylookedovermilesandmiles,ofwoodedcountry,andcountrywithgleamsofpasture。

  Thecryptunderneaththemanorwasbeautiful,andin,perfectpreservation。Paulmadeadrawing:,Miriamstayedwithhim。

  ShewasthinkingofMaryQueenofScotslookingwithherstrained,hopelesseyes,thatcouldnotunderstandmisery,overthehills,whencenohelpcame,orsittinginthiscrypt,beingtoldofaGod,ascoldastheplaceshesatin。

  Theysetoffagaingaily,lookingroundontheirbelovedmanor,thatstoodsocleanandbigonitshill。

  “SupposingyoucouldhaveTHATfarm,“saidPaultoMiriam。

  “Yes!”

  “Wouldn’titbelovelytocomeandseeyou!”

  Theywerenowinthebarecountryofstonewalls,whichheloved,andwhich,thoughonlytenmilesfromhome,seemedsoforeign,toMiriam。Thepartywasstraggling。Astheywerecrossinga,largemeadowthatslopedawayfromthesun,alongapathembedded,withinnumerabletinyglitteringpoints,Paul,walking,alongside,lacedhisfingersinthestringsofthebagMiriam,wascarrying,andinstantlyshefeltAnniebehind,watchfulandjealous。

  Butthemeadowwasbathedinagloryofsunshine,andthepath,wasjewelled,anditwasseldomthathegaveheranysign。

  Sheheldherfingersverystillamongthestringsofthebag,hisfingerstouching;andtheplacewasgoldenasavision。

  AtlasttheycameintothestragglinggreyvillageofCrich,thatlieshigh。BeyondthevillagewasthefamousCrichStand,thatPaulcouldseefromthegardenathome。Thepartypushedon。

  Greatexpanseofcountryspreadaroundandbelow。Theladswere,eagertogettothetopofthehill。Itwascappedbyaroundknoll,halfofwhichwasbynowcutaway,andonthetopofwhichstood,anancientmonument,sturdyandsquat,forsignallinginolddaysfar,downintothelevellandsofNottinghamshireandLeicestershire。

  Itwasblowingsohard,highupthereintheexposedplace,thattheonlywaytobesafewastostandnailedbythewind,tothewanofthetower。Attheirfeetfelltheprecipice,wherethelimestonewasquarriedaway。Belowwasajumbleof,hillsandtinyvillages——Mattock,Ambergate,StoneyMiddleton。

  TheladswereeagertospyoutthechurchofBestwood,faraway,amongtherathercrowdedcountryontheleft。Theyweredisgusted,thatitseemedtostandonaplain。TheysawthehillsofDerbyshire,fallintothemonotonyoftheMidlandsthatsweptawaySouth。

  Miriamwassomewhatscaredbythewind,buttheladsenjoyedit。

  Theywenton,milesandmiles,toWhatstandwell。Allthefood,waseaten,everybodywashungry,andtherewasverylittlemoneytoget,homewith。Buttheymanagedtoprocurealoafandacurrant-loaf,whichtheyhackedtopieceswithshut-knives,andatesittingon,thewallnearthebridge,watchingthebrightDerwentrushingby,andthebrakesfromMatlockpullingupattheinn。

  Paulwasnowpalewithweariness。Hehadbeenresponsible,forthepartyallday,andnowhewasdone。Miriamunderstood,andkeptclosetohim,andhelefthimselfinherhands。

  TheyhadanhourtowaitatAmbergateStation。Trainscame,crowdedwithexcursionistsreturningtoManchester,Birmingham,andLondon。

  “Wemightbegoingthere——folkeasilymightthinkwe’regoing,thatfar,“saidPaul。

  Theygotbackratherlate。Miriam,walkinghomewithGeoffrey,watchedthemoonrisebigandredandmisty。Shefeltsomething,wasfulfilledinher。

  Shehadaneldersister,Agatha,whowasaschool-teacher。

  Betweenthetwogirlswasafeud。MiriamconsideredAgathaworldly。

  Andshewantedherselftobeaschool-teacher。

  OneSaturdayafternoonAgathaandMiriamwereupstairsdressing。

  Theirbedroomwasoverthestable。Itwasalowroom,notverylarge,andbare。MiriamhadnailedonthewallareproductionofVeronese’s,“St。Catherine“。Shelovedthewomanwhosatinthewindow,dreaming。

  Herownwindowsweretoosmalltositin。Butthefrontonewas,drippedoverwithhoneysuckleandvirginiacreeper,andlooked,uponthetree-topsoftheoak-woodacrosstheyard,whilethe,littlebackwindow,nobiggerthanahandkerchief,wasaloophole,totheeast,tothedawnbeatingupagainstthebelovedroundhills。

  Thetwosistersdidnottalkmuchtoeachother。Agatha,whowasfairandsmallanddetermined,hadrebelledagainst,thehomeatmosphere,againstthedoctrineof“theothercheek“。

  Shewasoutintheworldnow,inafairwaytobeindependent。

  Andsheinsistedonworldlyvalues,onappearance,onmanners,onposition,whichMiriamwouldfainhaveignored。

  Bothgirlslikedtobeupstairs,outoftheway,whenPaulcame。

  Theypreferredtocomerunningdown,openthestair-footdoor,andseehimwatching,expectantofthem。Miriamstoodpainfully,pullingoverherheadarosaryhehadgivenher。Itcaught,inthefinemeshofherhair。Butatlastshehaditon,andthe,red-brownwoodenbeadslookedwellagainsthercoolbrownneck。

  Shewasawell-developedgirl,andveryhandsome。Butinthelittle,looking-glassnailedagainstthewhitewashedwallshecouldonlysee,afragmentofherselfatatime。Agathahadboughtalittlemirror,ofherown,whichsheproppeduptosuitherself。Miriamwasnear,thewindow。Suddenlysheheardthewell-knownclickofthechain,andshesawPaulflingopenthegate,pushhisbicycleintotheyard。

  Shesawhimlookatthehouse,andsheshrankaway。Hewalked,inanonchalantfashion,andhisbicyclewentwithhimasifit,werealivething。

  “Paul’scome!”sheexclaimed。

  “Aren’tyouglad?”saidAgathacuttingly。

  Miriamstoodstillinamazementandbewilderment。

  “Well,aren’tyou?”sheasked。

  “Yes,butI’mnotgoingtolethimseeit,andthinkIwantedhim。”

  Miriamwasstartled。Sheheardhimputtinghisbicycleinthe,stableunderneath,andtalkingtoJimmy,whohadbeenapit-horse,andwhowasseedy。

  “Well,Jimmymylad,howareter?,Nobbutsickan’

  sadly,like?,Why,then,it’sashame,myowdlad。”

  Sheheardtheroperunthroughtheholeasthehorseliftedits,headfromthelad’scaress。Howshelovedtolistenwhenhethought,onlythehorsecouldhear。ButtherewasaserpentinherEden。

  ShesearchedearnestlyinherselftoseeifshewantedPaulMorel。

  Shefelttherewouldbesomedisgraceinit。Fulloftwistedfeeling,shewasafraidshedidwanthim。Shestoodself-convicted。Then,cameanagonyofnewshame。Sheshrankwithinherselfinacoil,oftorture。DidshewantPaulMorel,anddidheknowshewantedhim?

  Whatasubtleinfamyuponher。Shefeltasifherwholesoulcoiled,intoknotsofshame。

  Agathawasdressedfirst,andrandownstairs。Miriamheard,hergreettheladgaily,knewexactlyhowbrillianthergrey,eyesbecamewiththattone。Sheherselfwouldhavefeltitbold,tohavegreetedhiminsuchwise。Yetthereshestoodunderthe,self-accusationofwantinghim,tiedtothatstakeoftorture。

  Inbitterperplexityshekneeleddownandprayed:

  “OLord,letmenotlovePaulMorel。Keepmefromlovinghim,ifIoughtnottolovehim。”

  Somethinganomalousintheprayerarrestedher。Shelifted,herheadandpondered。Howcoulditbewrongtolovehim?,Lovewas,God’sgift。Andyetitcausedhershame。Thatwasbecauseofhim,PaulMorel。But,then,itwasnothisaffair,itwasherown,betweenherselfandGod。Shewastobeasacrifice。Butitwas,God’ssacrifice,notPaulMorel’sorherown。Afterafewminutes,shehidherfaceinthepillowagain,andsaid:

  “But,Lord,ifitisThywillthatIshouldlovehim,makemelovehim——asChristwould,whodiedforthesoulsofmen。

  Makemelovehimsplendidly,becauseheisThyson。”

  Sheremainedkneelingforsometime,quitestill,anddeeplymoved,herblackhairagainsttheredsquaresandthelavender-sprigged,squaresofthepatchworkquilt。Prayerwasalmostessentialtoher。

  Thenshefellintothatraptureofself-sacrifice,identifyingherselfwithaGodwhowassacrificed,whichgives,tosomanyhumansoulstheirdeepestbliss。

  WhenshewentdownstairsPaulwaslyingbackinanarmchair,holdingforthwithmuchvehemencetoAgatha,whowasscorningalittle,paintinghehadbroughttoshowher。Miriamglancedatthetwo,andavoidedtheirlevity。Shewentintotheparlourtobealone。

  Itwastea-timebeforeshewasabletospeaktoPaul,andthen,hermannerwassodistanthethoughthehadoffendedher。

  MiriamdiscontinuedherpracticeofgoingeachThursdayevening,tothelibraryinBestwood。AftercallingforPaulregularly,duringthewholespring,anumberoftriflingincidentsandtiny,insultsfromhisfamilyawakenedhertotheirattitudetowardsher,andshedecidedtogonomore。SosheannouncedtoPauloneevening,shewouldnotcallathishouseagainforhimonThursdaynights。

  “Why?”heasked,veryshort。

  “Nothing。OnlyI’drathernot。”

  “Verywell。”

  “But,“shefaltered,“ifyou’dcaretomeetme,wecouldstill,gotogether。”

  “Meetyouwhere?”

  “Somewhere——whereyoulike。”

  “Ishan’tmeetyouanywhere。Idon’tseewhyyoushouldn’t,keepcallingforme。Butifyouwon’t,Idon’twanttomeetyou。”

  SotheThursdayeveningswhichhadbeensoprecioustoher,andtohim,weredropped。Heworkedinstead。Mrs。Morelsniffed,withsatisfactionatthisarrangement。

  Hewouldnothaveitthattheywerelovers。Theintimacy,betweenthemhadbeenkeptsoabstract,suchamatterofthesoul,allthoughtandwearystruggleintoconsciousness,thathesawitonly,asaplatonicfriendship。Hestoutlydeniedtherewasanythingelse,betweenthem。Miriamwassilent,orelsesheveryquietlyagreed。

  Hewasafoolwhodidnotknowwhatwashappeningtohimself。

  Bytacitagreementtheyignoredtheremarksandinsinuationsof,theiracquaintances。

  “Wearen’tlovers,wearefriends,“hesaidtoher。”WEknowit。

  Letthemtalk。Whatdoesitmatterwhattheysay。”

  Sometimes,astheywerewalkingtogether,sheslippedherarm,timidlyintohis。Buthealwaysresentedit,andsheknewit。

  Itcausedaviolentconflictinhim。WithMiriamhewasalways,onthehighplaneofabstraction,whenhisnaturalfireoflovewas,transmittedintothefinestreamofthought。Shewouldhaveitso。

  Ifhewerejollyand,assheputit,flippant,shewaitedtillhecame,backtoher,tillthechangehadtakenplaceinhimagain,andhe,waswrestlingwithhisownsoul,frowning,passionateinhisdesire,forunderstanding。Andinthispassionforunderstandinghersoul,layclosetohis;shehadhimalltoherself。Buthemustbemade,abstractfirst。

  Then,ifsheputherarminhis,itcausedhimalmosttorture。

  Hisconsciousnessseemedtosplit。Theplacewhereshewastouching,himranhotwithfriction。Hewasoneinternecinebattle,andhe,becamecrueltoherbecauseofit。

  OneeveninginmidsummerMiriamcalledatthehouse,warmfromclimbing。Paulwasaloneinthekitchen;hismother,couldbeheardmovingaboutupstairs。

  “Comeandlookatthesweet-peas,“hesaidtothegirl。

  Theywentintothegarden。Theskybehindthetownletandthe,churchwasorange-red;theflower-gardenwasfloodedwithastrange,warmlightthatliftedeveryleafintosignificance。Paulpassed,alongafinerowofsweet-peas,gatheringablossomhereandthere,allcreamandpaleblue。Miriamfollowed,breathingthefragrance。

  Toher,flowersappealedwithsuchstrengthshefeltshemust,makethempartofherself。Whenshebentandbreathedaflower,itwasasifsheandtheflowerwerelovingeachother。Paulhated,herforit。Thereseemedasortofexposureabouttheaction,somethingtoointimate。

  Whenhehadgotafairbunch,theyreturnedtothehouse。

  Helistenedforamomenttohismother’squietmovementupstairs,thenhesaid:

  “Comehere,andletmepintheminforyou。”,Hearrangedthem,twoorthreeatatimeinthebosomofherdress,steppingback,nowandthentoseetheeffect。”Youknow,“hesaid,takingthepin,outofhismouth,“awomanoughtalwaystoarrangeherflowers,beforeherglass。”

  Miriamlaughed。Shethoughtflowersoughttobepinned,inone’sdresswithoutanycare。ThatPaulshouldtakepains,tofixherflowersforherwashiswhim。

  Hewasratheroffendedatherlaughter。

  “Somewomendo——thosewholookdecent,“hesaid。

  Miriamlaughedagain,butmirthlessly,tohearhimthusmix,herupwithwomeninageneralway。Frommostmenshewouldhave,ignoredit。Butfromhimithurther。

  Hehadnearlyfinishedarrangingtheflowerswhenheheard,hismother’sfootsteponthestairs。Hurriedlyhepushed,inthelastpinandturnedaway。

  “Don’tletmaterknow,“hesaid。

  Miriampickedupherbooksandstoodinthedoorwaylooking,withchagrinatthebeautifulsunset。ShewouldcallforPaul,nomore,shesaid。

  “Good-evening,Mrs。Morel,“shesaid,inadeferentialway。

  Shesoundedasifshefeltshehadnorighttobethere。

  “Oh,isityou,Miriam?”repliedMrs。Morelcoolly。

  ButPaulinsistedoneverybody’sacceptinghisfriendship,withthegirl,andMrs。Morelwastoowisetohaveanyopenrupture。

  Itwasnottillhewastwentyyearsoldthatthefamilycould,everaffordtogoawayforaholiday。Mrs。Morelhadneverbeenaway,foraholiday,excepttoseehersister,sinceshehadbeenmarried。

  NowatlastPaulhadsavedenoughmoney,andtheywereallgoing。

  Therewastobeaparty:,someofAnnie’sfriends,onefriendofPaul’s,ayoungmaninthesameofficewhereWilliamhadpreviouslybeen,andMiriam。

  Itwasgreatexcitementwritingforrooms。Paulandhis,motherdebateditendlesslybetweenthem。Theywantedafurnished,cottagefortwoweeks。Shethoughtoneweekwouldbeenough,butheinsistedontwo。

  AtlasttheygotananswerfromMablethorpe,acottagesuchasthey,wishedforthirtyshillingsaweek。Therewasimmensejubilation。

  Paulwaswildwithjoyforhismother’ssake。Shewouldhave,arealholidaynow。Heandshesatateveningpicturingwhatit,wouldbelike。Anniecamein,andLeonard,andAlice,andKitty。

  Therewaswildrejoicingandanticipation。PaultoldMiriam。

  Sheseemedtobroodwithjoyoverit。ButtheMorel’shouserang,withexcitement。

  TheyweretogoonSaturdaymorningbytheseventrain。

  PaulsuggestedthatMiriamshouldsleepathishouse,becauseit,wassofarforhertowalk。Shecamedownforsupper。

  EverybodywassoexcitedthatevenMiriamwasacceptedwithwarmth。

  Butalmostassoonassheenteredthefeelinginthefamilybecamecloseandtight。

  HehaddiscoveredapoembyJeanIngelowwhichmentionedMablethorpe,andsohemustreadittoMiriam。Hewouldneverhavegotsofarin,thedirectionofsentimentalityastoreadpoetrytohisownfamily。

  Butnowtheycondescendedtolisten。Miriamsatonthesofa,absorbedinhim。Shealwaysseemedabsorbedinhim,andbyhim,whenhewaspresent。Mrs。Morelsatjealouslyinherownchair。

  Shewasgoingtohearalso。AndevenAnnieandthefatherattended,Morelwithhisheadcockedononeside,likesomebodylistening,toasermonandfeelingconsciousofthefact。Paulduckedhishead,overthebook。Hehadgotnowalltheaudiencehecaredfor。

  AndMrs。MorelandAnniealmostcontestedwithMiriamwhoshouldlisten,bestandwinhisfavour。Hewasinveryhighfeather。

  “But,“interruptedMrs。Morel,“whatISthe’BrideofEnderby’

  thatthebellsaresupposedtoring?”

  “It’sanoldtunetheyusedtoplayonthebellsforawarning,againstwater。IsupposetheBrideofEnderbywasdrownedinaflood,“

  hereplied。Hehadnotthefaintestknowledgewhatitreallywas,buthewouldneverhavesunksolowastoconfessthattohiswomenfolk。

  Theylistenedandbelievedhim。Hebelievedhimself。

  “Andthepeopleknewwhatthattunemeant?”saidhismother。

  “Yes——justliketheScotchwhentheyheard’TheFlowerso’

  theForest’——andwhentheyusedtoringthebellsbackwardforalarm。”

  “How?”saidAnnie。”Abellsoundsthesamewhetherit’srung,backwardsorforwards。”

  “But,“hesaid,“ifyoustartwiththedeepbellandringup,tothehighone——der——der——der——der——der——der——der——der!”

  Heranupthescale。Everybodythoughtitclever。Hethought,sotoo。Then,waitingaminute,hecontinuedthepoem。

  “Hm!”saidMrs。Morelcuriously,whenhefinished。”ButI

  wisheverythingthat’swrittenweren’tsosad。”

  “Icannaseewhattheywantdrownin’theirselvesfor,“

  saidMorel。

  Therewasapause。Anniegotuptoclearthetable。

  Miriamrosetohelpwiththepots。

  “LetMEhelptowashup,“shesaid。

  “Certainlynot,“criedAnnie。”Yousitdownagain。

  Therearen’tmany。”

  AndMiriam,whocouldnotbefamiliarandinsist,satdown,againtolookatthebookwithPaul。

  Hewasmasteroftheparty;hisfatherwasnogood。Andgreat,tortureshesufferedlestthetinboxshouldbeputoutatFirsby,insteadofatMablethorpe。Andhewasn’tequaltogettingacarriage。

  Hisboldlittlemotherdidthat。

  “Here!”shecriedtoaman。”Here!”

  PaulandAnniegotbehindtherest,convulsedwithshamedlaughter。

  “HowmuchwillitbetodrivetoBrookCottage?”saidMrs。Morel。

  “Twoshillings。”

  “Why,howfarisit?”

  “Agoodway。”

  “Idon’tbelieveit,“shesaid。

  Butshescrambledin。Therewereeightcrowdedinoneold,seasidecarriage。

  “Yousee,“saidMrs。Morel,“it’sonlythreepenceeach,andifitwereatramcar——“

  Theydrovealong。Eachcottagetheycameto,Mrs。Morelcried:

  “Isitthis?,Now,thisisit!”

  Everybodysatbreathless。Theydrovepast。Therewas,auniversalsigh。

  “I’mthankfulitwasn’tthatbrute,“saidMrs。Morel。

  “IWASfrightened。”,Theydroveonandon。

  Atlasttheydescendedatahousethatstoodaloneover,thedykebythehighroad。Therewaswildexcitementbecausethey,hadtocrossalittlebridgetogetintothefrontgarden。

  Buttheylovedthehousethatlaysosolitary,withasea-meadow,ononeside,andimmenseexpanseoflandpatchedinwhitebarley,yellowoats,redwheat,andgreenroot-crops,flatandstretching,leveltothesky。

  Paulkeptaccounts。Heandhismotherrantheshow。

  Thetotalexpenses——lodging,food,everything——wassixteenshillings,aweekperperson。HeandLeonardwentbathinginthemornings。

  Morelwaswanderingabroadquiteearly。

  “You,Paul,“hismothercalledfromthebedroom,“eatapiece,ofbread-and-butter。”

  “Allright,“heanswered。

  Andwhenhegotbackhesawhismotherpresidinginstateat,thebreakfast-table。Thewomanofthehousewasyoung。Herhusband,wasblind,andshedidlaundrywork。SoMrs。Morelalwayswashed,thepotsinthekitchenandmadethebeds。

  “Butyousaidyou’dhavearealholiday,“saidPaul,“andnow,youwork。”

  “Work!”sheexclaimed。”Whatareyoutalkingabout!”

  Helovedtogowithheracrossthefieldstothevillage,andthesea。Shewasafraidoftheplankbridge,andheabusedher,forbeingababy。OnthewholehestucktoherasifhewereHERman。

  Miriamdidnotgetmuchofhim,except,perhaps,whenallthe,otherswenttothe“Coons“。CoonswereinsufferablystupidtoMiriam,sohethoughttheyweretohimselfalso,andhepreachedpriggishly,toAnnieaboutthefatuityoflisteningtothem。Yethe,too,knewalltheirsongs,andsangthemalongtheroadsroisterously。

  Andifhefoundhimselflistening,thestupiditypleasedhimverymuch。

  YettoAnniehesaid:

  “Suchrot!thereisn’tagrainofintelligenceinit。Nobodywith,moregumptionthanagrasshoppercouldgoandsitandlisten。”

  AndtoMiriamhesaid,withmuchscornofAnnieandtheothers:

  “Isupposethey’reatthe’Coons’。”

  ItwasqueertoseeMiriamsingingcoonsongs。Shehadastraight,chinthatwentinaperpendicularlinefromthelowerliptotheturn。

  ShealwaysremindedPaulofsomesadBotticelliangelwhenshesang,evenwhenitwas:

  “Comedownlover’slane,Forawalkwithme,talkwithme。”

  Onlywhenhesketched,orateveningwhentheotherswereat,the“Coons“shehadhimtoherself。Hetalkedtoherendlessly,abouthisloveofhorizontals:,howthey,thegreatlevelsofsky,andlandinLincolnshire,meanttohimtheeternalityofthewill,justasthebowedNormanarchesofthechurch,repeatingthemselves,meantthedoggedleapingforwardofthepersistenthumansoul,onandon,nobodyknowswhere;incontradictiontotheperpendicular,linesandtotheGothicarch,which,hesaid,leaptupatheavenand,touchedtheecstasyandlostitselfinthedivine。Himself,hesaid,wasNorman,MiriamwasGothic。Shebowedinconsenteventothat。

  Oneeveningheandshewentupthegreatsweepingshore,ofsandtowardsTheddlethorpe。Thelongbreakersplungedandran,inahissoffoamalongthecoast。Itwasawarmevening。

  Therewasnotafigurebutthemselvesonthefarreachesofsand,nonoisebutthesoundofthesea。Paullovedtoseeitclanging,attheland。Helovedtofeelhimselfbetweenthenoiseofit,andthesilenceofthesandyshore。Miriamwaswithhim。

  Everythinggrewveryintense。Itwasquitedarkwhenthey,turnedagain。Thewayhomewasthroughagapinthesandhills,andthenalongaraisedgrassroadbetweentwodykes。Thecountry,wasblackandstill。Frombehindthesandhillscamethewhisper,ofthesea。PaulandMiriamwalkedinsilence。Suddenlyhestarted。

  Thewholeofhisbloodseemedtoburstintoflame,andhecould,scarcelybreathe。Anenormousorangemoonwasstaringatthem,fromtherimofthesandhills。Hestoodstill,lookingatit。

  “Ah!”criedMiriam,whenshesawit。

  Heremainedperfectlystill,staringattheimmenseandruddy,moon,theonlythinginthefar-reachingdarknessofthelevel。

  Hisheartbeatheavily,themusclesofhisarmscontracted。

  “Whatisit?”murmuredMiriam,waitingforhim。

  Heturnedandlookedather。Shestoodbesidehim,forever,inshadow。Herface,coveredwiththedarknessofherhat,waswatching,himunseen。Butshewasbrooding。Shewasslightlyafraid——deeply,movedandreligious。Thatwasherbeststate。Hewasimpotent,againstit。Hisbloodwasconcentratedlikeaflameinhischest。

  Buthecouldnotgetacrosstoher。Therewereflashesinhisblood。

  Butsomehowsheignoredthem。Shewasexpectingsomereligious,stateinhim。Stillyearning,shewashalfawareofhispassion,andgazedathim,troubled。

  “Whatisit?”shemurmuredagain。

  “It’sthemoon,“heanswered,frowning。

  “Yes,“sheassented。”Isn’titwonderful?”Shewascurious,abouthim。Thecrisiswaspast。

  Hedidnotknowhimselfwhatwasthematter。Hewasnaturally,soyoung,andtheirintimacywassoabstract,hedidnotknowhe,wantedtocrushherontohisbreasttoeasetheachethere。

  Hewasafraidofher。Thefactthathemightwantherasamanwants,awomanhadinhimbeensuppressedintoashame。Whensheshrank,inherconvulsed,coiledtorturefromthethoughtofsuch,athing,hehadwincedtothedepthsofhissoul。Andnowthis,“purity“preventedeventheirfirstlove-kiss。Itwasasifshecould,scarcelystandtheshockofphysicallove,evenapassionatekiss,andthenhewastooshrinkingandsensitivetogiveit。

  Astheywalkedalongthedarkfen-meadowhewatchedthemoon,anddidnotspeak。Sheploddedbesidehim。Hehatedher,forshe,seemedinsomewaytomakehimdespisehimself。Lookingahead——hesaw,theonelightinthedarkness,thewindowoftheirlamp-litcottage。

  Helovedtothinkofhismother,andtheotherjollypeople。

  “Well,everybodyelsehasbeeninlongago!”saidhismother,astheyentered。

  “Whatdoesthatmatter!”hecriedirritably。”Icangoawalk,ifIlike,can’tI?”

  “AndIshouldhavethoughtyoucouldgetintosupperwith,therest,“saidMrs。Morel。

  “Ishallpleasemyself,“heretorted。”It’snotLATE。

  IshalldoasIlike。”

  “Verywell,“saidhismothercuttingly,“thenDOasyoulike。”

  Andshetooknofurthernoticeofhimthatevening。Whichhe,pretendedneithertonoticenortocareabout,butsatreading。

  Miriamreadalso,obliteratingherself。Mrs。Morelhatedher,formakinghersonlikethis。ShewatchedPaulgrowingirritable,priggish,andmelancholic。ForthissheputtheblameonMiriam。

  Annieandallherfriendsjoinedagainstthegirl。Miriamhadno,friendofherown,onlyPaul。Butshedidnotsuffersomuch,becauseshedespisedthetrivialityoftheseotherpeople。

  AndPaulhatedherbecause,somehow,shespoilthisease,andnaturalness。Andhewrithedhimselfwithafeelingofhumiliation。

  CHAPTERVIII

  STRIFEINLOVE

  ARTHURfinishedhisapprenticeship,andgotajobontheelectrical,plantatMintonPit。Heearnedverylittle,buthadagoodchance,ofgettingon。Buthewaswildandrestless。Hedidnotdrink,norgamble。Yethesomehowcontrivedtogetintoendlessscrapes,alwaysthroughsomehot-headedthoughtlessness。Eitherhewent,rabbitinginthewoods,likeapoacher,orhestayedinNottingham,allnightinsteadofcominghome,orhemiscalculatedhisdive,intothecanalatBestwood,andscoredhischestintoonemass,ofwoundsontherawstonesandtinsatthebottom。

  Hehadnotbeenathisworkmanymonthswhenagainhedid,notcomehomeonenight。

  “DoyouknowwhereArthuris?”askedPaulatbreakfast。

  “Idonot,“repliedhismother。

  “Heisafool,“saidPaul。”AndifheDIDanythingI

  shouldn’tmind。Butno,hesimplycan’tcomeawayfromagame,ofwhist,orelsehemustseeagirlhomefromtheskating-rink——quite,proprietously——andsocan’tgethome。He’safool。”

  “Idon’tknowthatitwouldmakeitanybetterifhedid,somethingtomakeusallashamed,“saidMrs。Morel。

  “Well,Ishouldrespecthimmore,“saidPaul。

  “Iverymuchdoubtit,“saidhismothercoldly。

  Theywentonwithbreakfast。

  “Areyoufearfullyfondofhim?”Paulaskedhismother。

  “Whatdoyouaskthatfor?”

  “Becausetheysayawomanalwaysliketheyoungestbest。”

  “Shemaydo——butIdon’t。No,heweariesme。”

  “Andyou’dactuallyratherhewasgood?”

  “I’dratherheshowedsomeofaman’scommonsense。”

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