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him； and she looked again； for him to bee real to her。 But it
was her own self that was occupied elsewhere。 She seemed to have
some other being。
And she turned to spring and the opening buds。 There was a
large pear tree by a wall； and it was full； thronged with tiny；
greygreen buds； myriads。 She stood before it arrested with
delight； and a realization went deep into her heart。 There was
so great a host in array behind the cloud of pale； dim green； so
much to e forthso much sunshine to pour down。
So the weeks passed on； trancelike and pregnant。 The pear
tree at Cossethay burst into bloom against the cottageend； like
a wave burst into foam。 Then gradually the bluebells came； blue
as water standing thin in the level places under the trees and
bushes； flowing in more and more； till there was a flood of
azure； and palegreen leaves burning； and tiny birds with fiery
little song and flight。 Then swiftly the flood sank and was
gone； and it was summer。
There was to be no going to the seaside for a holiday。 The
holiday was the removal from Cossethay。
They were going to live near Willey Green； which place was
most central for Brangwen。 It was an old； quiet village on the
edge of the thronged collierydistrict。 So that it served； in
its quaintness of odd old cottages lingering in their sunny
gardens； as a sort of bower or pleasaunce to the sprawling
collierytownlet of Beldover； a pleasant walkround for the
colliers on Sunday morning； before the publichouses opened。
In Willey Green stood the Grammar School where Brangwen was
occupied for two days during the week； and where experiments in
education were being carried on。
Ursula wanted to live in Willey Green on the remoter side；
towards Southwell； and Sherwood Forest。 There it was so lovely
and romantic。 But out into the world meant out into the world。
Will Brangwen must bee modern。
He bought； with his wife's money； a fairly large house in the
new； redbrick part of Beldover。 It was a villa built by the
widow of the late colliery manager； and stood in a quiet； new
little sidestreet near the large church。
Ursula was rather sad。 Instead of having arrived at
distinction they had e to new redbrick suburbia in a grimy；
small town。
Mrs。 Brangwen was happy。 The rooms were splendidly
largea splendid diningroom； drawingroom and kitchen；
besides a very pleasant study downstairs。 Everything was
admirably appointed。 The widow had settled herself in lavishly。
She was a native of Beldover； and had intended to reign almost
queen。 Her bathroom was white and silver； her stairs were of
oak； her chimneypieces were massive and oaken； with bulging；
columnar supports。
〃Good and substantial；〃 was the keynote。 But Ursula resented
the stout； inflated prosperity implied everywhere。 She made her
father promise to chisel down the bulging oaken chimneypieces；
chisel them flat。 That sort of important paunch was very
distasteful to her。 Her father was himself long and loosely
built。 What had he to do with so much 〃good and substantial〃
importance？
They bought a fair amount also of the widow's furniture。 It
was in mon good tastethe great Wilton carpet； the
large round table； the Chesterfield covered with glossy chintz
in roses and birds。 It was all really very sunny and nice； with
large windows； and a view right across the shallow valley。
After all； they would be； as one of their acquaintances said；
among the elite of Beldover。 They would represent culture。 And
as there was no one of higher social importance than the
doctors； the collierymanagers； and the chemists； they would
shine； with their Della Robbia beautiful Madonna； their lovely
reliefs from Donatello； their reproductions from Botticelli。
Nay； the large photographs of the Primavera and the Aphrodite
and the Nativity in the diningroom； the ordinary
receptionroom； would make dumb the mouth of Beldover。
And after all； it is better to be princess in Beldover than a
vulgar nobody in the country。
There was great preparation made for the removal of the whole
Brangwen family； ten in all。 The house in Beldover was prepared；
the house in Cossethay was dismantled。 e the end of the
schoolterm the removal would begin。
Ursula left school at the end of July； when the summer
holiday menced。 The morning outside was bright and sunny； and
the freedom got inside the schoolroom this last day。 It was as
if the walls of the school were going to melt away。 Already they
seemed shadowy and unreal。 It was breakingup morning。 Soon
scholars and teachers would be outside； each going his own way。
The irons were struck off； the sentence was expired； the prison
was a momentary shadow halting about them。 The children were
carrying away books and inkwell； and rolling up maps。 All their
faces were bright with gladness and goodwill。 There was a bustle
of cleaning and clearing away all marks of this last term of
imprisonment。 They were all breaking free。 Busily； eagerly；
Ursula made up her totals of attendances in the register。 With
pride she wrote down the thousands： to so many thousands of
children had she given another sessions's lessons。 It looked
tremendous。 The excited hours passed slowly in suspense。 Then at
last it was over。 For the last time； she stood before her
children whilst they said their prayers and sang a hymn。 Then it
was over。
〃Goodbye； children；〃 she said。 〃I shall not fet you； and
you must not fet me。〃
〃No； miss；〃 cried the children in chorus； with shining
faces。
She stood smiling on them； moved； as they filed out。 Then she
gave her monitors their term sixpences； and they too departed。
Cupboards were locked； blackboards washed； ink wells and dusters
removed。 The place stood bare and vacated。 She had triumphed
over it。 It was a shell now。 She had fought a good fight here；
and it had not been altogether unenjoyable。 She owed some
gratitude even to this hard； vacant place； that stood like a
memorial or a trophy。 So much of her life had been fought for
and won and lost here。 Something of this school would always
belong to her； something of her to it。 She acknowledged it。 And
now came the leavetaking。
In the teachers' room the teachers were chatting and
loitering； talking excitedly of where they were going： to the
Isle of Man； to Llandudno； to Yarmouth。 They were eager； and
attached to each other； like rades leaving a ship。
Then it was Mr。 Harby's turn to make a speech to Ursula。 He
looked handsome； with his silvergrey temples and black brows；
and his imperturbable male solidity。
〃Well；〃 he said； 〃we must say goodbye to Miss Brangwen and
wish her all good fortune for the future。 I suppose we shall see
her again some time； and hear how she is getting on。〃
〃Oh； yes；〃 said Ursula； stammering； blushing； laughing。 〃Oh；
yes； I shall e and see you。〃
Then she realized that this sounded too personal； and she
felt foolish。
〃Miss Schofield suggested these two books；〃 he said； putting
a couple of volumes on the table： 〃I hope you will like
them。〃
Ursula feeling very shy picked up the books。 There was a
volume of Swinburne's poetry； and a volume of Meredith's。
〃Oh； I shall love them；〃 she said。 〃Thank you very
muchthank you all so muchit is
so〃
She stuttered to an end； and very red； turned the leaves of
the books eagerly； pretending to be taking the first pleasure；
but really seeing nothing。
Mr。 Harby's eyes were twinkling。 He alone was at his ease；
master of the situation。 It was pleasing to him to make Ursula
the gift； and for once extend good feeling to his teachers。 As a
rule； it was so difficult； each one was so strained in
resentment under his rule。
〃Yes；〃 he said； 〃we hoped you would like the
choice〃
He looked with his peculiar； challenging smile for a moment；
then returned to his cupboards。
Ursula felt very confused。 She hugged her books； loving them。
And she felt that she loved all the teachers； and Mr。 Harby。 It
was very confusing。
At last she was out。 She cast one hasty glance over the
school buildings squatting on the asphalt yard in the hot；
glistening sun； one look down the wellknown road； and turned
her back on it all。 Something strained in her heart。 She was
going away。
〃Well； g