Page 239 - women-in-love

and delight, such as children alone know, when all seems a
perfect and blissful adventure.
When they had finished tea, the two girls sat on, si-
lent and serene. Then Ursula, who had a beautiful strong
voice, began to sing to herself, softly: ‘Annchen von Tharau.’
Gudrun listened, as she sat beneath the trees, and the yearn-
ing came into her heart. Ursula seemed so peaceful and
sufficient unto herself, sitting there unconsciously croon-
ing her song, strong and unquestioned at the centre of her
own universe. And Gudrun felt herself outside. Always this
desolating, agonised feeling, that she was outside of life, an
onlooker, whilst Ursula was a partaker, caused Gudrun to
suffer from a sense of her own negation, and made her, that
she must always demand the other to be aware of her, to be
in connection with her.
‘Do you mind if I do Dalcroze to that tune, Hurtler?’ she
asked in a curious muted tone, scarce moving her lips.
‘What did you say?’ asked Ursula, looking up in peace-
ful surprise.
‘Will you sing while I do Dalcroze?’ said Gudrun, suffer-
ing at having to repeat herself.
Ursula thought a moment, gathering her straying wits
together.
‘While you do—?’ she asked vaguely.
‘Dalcroze movements,’ said Gudrun, suffering tortures
of self-consciousness, even because of her sister.
‘Oh Dalcroze! I couldn’t catch the name. DO—I should
love to see you,’ cried Ursula, with childish surprised bright-
ness. ‘What shall I sing?’

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