could decide whether it were her fault or theirs。 She half
respected these other people； and continuous disillusion
maddened her。 She wanted to respect them。 Still she thought the
people she did not know were wonderful。 Those she knew seemed
always to be limiting her； tying her up in little falsities that
irritated her beyond bearing。 She would rather stay at home and
avoid the rest of the world； leaving it illusory。
For at the Marsh life had indeed a certain freedom and
largeness。 There was no fret about money； no mean little
precedence； nor care for what other people thought； because
neither Mrs。 Brangwen nor Brangwen could be sensible of any
judgment passed on them from outside。 Their lives were too
separate。
So Anna was only easy at home； where the mon sense and the
supreme relation between her parents produced a freer standard
of being than she could find outside。 Where； outside the Marsh；
could she find the tolerant dignity she had been brought up in？
Her parents stood undiminished and unaware of criticism。 The
people she met outside seemed to begrudge her her very
existence。 They seemed to want to belittle her also。 She was
exceedingly reluctant to go amongst them。 She depended upon her
mother and her father。 And yet she wanted to go out。
At school； or in the world； she was usually at fault； she
felt usually that she ought to be slinking in disgrace。 She
never felt quite sure； in herself； whether she were wrong； or
whether the others were wrong。 She had not done her lessons：
well； she did not see any reason why she should do her
lessons； if she did not want to。 Was there some occult reason
why she should？ Were these people； schoolmistresses；
representatives of some mystic Right； some Higher Good？ They
seemed to think so themselves。 But she could not for her life
see why a woman should bully and insult her because she did not
know thirty lines of As You Like It。 After all； what did
it matter if she knew them or not？ Nothing could persuade her
that it was of the slightest importance。 Because she despised
inwardly the coarsely working nature of the mistress。 Therefore
she was always at outs with authority。 From constant telling；
she came almost to believe in her own badness； her own intrinsic
inferiority。 She felt that she ought always to be in a state of
slinking disgrace； if she fulfilled what was expected of her。
But she rebelled。 She never really believed in her own badness。
At the bottom of her heart she despised the other people； who
carped and were loud over trifles。 She despised them； and wanted
revenge on them。 She hated them whilst they had power over
her。
Still she kept an ideal： a free； proud lady absolved from the
petty ties； existing beyond petty considerations。 She would see
such ladies in pictures： Alexandra； Princess of Wales； was one
of her models。 This lady was proud and royal； and stepped
indifferently over all small； mean desires： so thought Anna； in
her heart。 And the girl did up her hair high under a little
slanting hat； her skirts were fashionably bunched up； she wore
an elegant； skin…fitting coat。
Her father was delighted。 Anna was very proud in her bearing；
too naturally indifferent to smaller bonds to satisfy Ilkeston；
which would have liked to put her down。 But Brangwen was having
no such thing。 If she chose to be royal； royal she should be。 He
stood like a rock between her and the world。
After the fashion of his family； he grew stout and handsome。
His blue eyes were full of light； twinkling and sensitive； his
manner was deliberate； but hearty； warm。 His capacity for living
his own life without attention from his neighbours made them
respect him。 They would run to do anything for him。 He did not
consider them； but was open…handed towards them； so they made
profit of their willingness。 He liked people； so long as they
remained in the background。
Mrs。 Brangwen went on in her own way； following her own
devices。 She had her husband； her two sons and Anna。 These
staked out and marked her horizon。 The other people were
outsiders。 Inside her own world； her life passed along like a
dream for her； it lapsed； and she lived within its lapse； active
and always pleased； intent。 She scarcely noticed the outer
things at all。 What was outside was outside； non…existent。 She
did not mind if the boys fought； so long as it was out of her
presence。 But if they fought when she was by； she was angry； and
they were afraid of her。 She did not care if they broke a window
of a railway carriage or sold their watches to have a revel at
the Goose Fair。 Brangwen was perhaps angry over these things。 To
the mother they were insignificant。 It was odd little things
that offended her。 She was furious if the boys hung around the
slaughter…house； she was displeased when the school reports were
bad。 It did not matter how many sins her boys were accused of；
so long as they were not stupid； or inferior。 If they seemed to
brook insult； she hated them。 And it was only a certain
gaucherie； a gawkiness on Anna's part that irritated her
against the girl。 Certain forms of clumsiness； grossness； made
the mother's eyes glow with curious rage。 Otherwise she was
pleased； indifferent。
Pursuing her splendid…lady ideal； Anna became a lofty
demoiselle of sixteen； plagued by family shortings。 She was
very sensitive to her father。 She knew if he had been drinking；
were he ever so little affected； and she could not bear it。 He
flushed when he drank； the veins stood out on his temples； there
was a twinkling； cavalier boisterousness in his eye； his manner
was jovially overbearing and mocking。 And it angered her。 When
she heard his loud； roaring； boisterous mockery； an anger of
resentment filled her。 She ； the
moment he came in。
〃You look a sight； you do； red in the face；〃 she cried。
〃I might look worse if I was green；〃 he answered。
〃Boozing in Ilkeston。〃
〃And what's wrong wi' Il'son？〃
She flounced away。 He watched her with amused； twinkling
eyes； yet in spite of himself said that she flouted him。
They were a curious family； a law to themselves； separate
from the world； isolated； a small republic set in invisible
bounds。 The mother was quite indifferent to Ilkeston and
Cossethay； to any claims made on her from outside； she was very
shy of any outsider； exceedingly courteous； winning even。 But
the moment the visitor had gone； she laughed and dismissed him；
he did not exist。 It had been all a game to her。 She was still a
foreigner； unsure of her ground。 But alone with her own children
and husband at the Marsh； she was mistress of a little native
land that lacked nothing。
She had some beliefs somewhere； never defined。 She had been
brought up a Roman Catholic。 She had gone to the Church of
England for protection。 The outward form was a matter of
indifference to her。 Yet she had some fundamental religion。 It
was as if she worshipped God as a mystery； never seeking in the
least to define what He was。
And inside her； the subtle sense of the Great Absolute
wherein she had her being was very strong。 The English dogma
never reached her： the language was too foreign。 Through it all
she felt the great Separator who hel