Page 222 - sons-and-lovers

burned out the western sky, and Ediths, and Lucys, and
Rowenas, Brian de Bois Guilberts, Rob Roys, and Guy Man-
nerings, rustled the sunny leaves in the morning, or sat in
her bedroom aloft, alone, when it snowed. That was life to
her. For the rest, she drudged in the house, which work she
would not have minded had not her clean red floor been
mucked up immediately by the trampling farm-boots of
her brothers. She madly wanted her little brother of four
to let her swathe him and stifle him in her love; she went
to church reverently, with bowed head, and quivered in an-
guish from the vulgarity of the other choir-girls and from
the common-sounding voice of the curate; she fought with
her brothers, whom she considered brutal louts; and she
held not her father in too high esteem because he did not
carry any mystical ideals cherished in his heart, but only
wanted to have as easy a time as he could, and his meals
when he was ready for them.
She hated her position as swine-girl. She wanted to be
considered. She wanted to learn, thinking that if she could
read, as Paul said he could read, ‘Colomba’, or the ‘Voyage
autour de ma Chambre’, the world would have a different
face for her and a deepened respect. She could not be prin-
cess by wealth or standing. So she was mad to have learning
whereon to pride herself. For she was different from other
folk, and must not be scooped up among the common fry.
Learning was the only distinction to which she thought to
aspire.
Her beauty—that of a shy, wild, quiveringly sensitive
thing—seemed nothing to her. Even her soul, so strong

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