which were destroyed in the church。 So he had plenty to do： his
wife； his child； the church； the woodwork； and his wage…earning；
all occupying him。 If only there were not some limit to him；
some darkness across his eyes！ He had to give in to it at last
himself。 He must submit to his oe
limit to himself； of ＇something unformed in＇ his own black；
violent temper； and to reckon with it。 But as she was more gentle
with him； it became quieter。
As he sat sometimes very still； with a bright； vacant face；
Anna could see the suffering among the brightness。 He was aware
of some limit to himself； of something unformed in his very
being； of some buds which were not ripe in him； some folded
centres of darkness which would never develop and unfold whilst
he was alive in the body。 He was unready for fulfilment。
Something undeveloped in him limited him； there was a darkness
in him which he could not unfold； which would never
unfold in him。
CHAPTER VIII
THE CHILD
From the first； the baby stirred in the young father a
deep； strong emotion he dared scarcely acknowledge； it was so
strong and came out of the dark of him。 When he heard the child
cry； a terror possessed him； because of the answering echo from
the unfathomed distances in himself。 Must he know in himself
such distances； perilous and imminent？
He had the infant in his arms； he walked backwards and
forwards troubled by the crying of his own flesh and blood。 This
was his own flesh and blood crying！ His soul rose against the
voice suddenly breaking out from him； from the distances in
him。
Sometimes in the night； the child cried and cried； when the
night was heavy and sleep oppressed him。 And half asleep； he
stretched out his hand to put it over the baby's face to stop
the crying。 But something arrested his hand： the very
inhumanness of the intolerable； continuous crying arrested him。
It was so impersonal； without cause or object。 Yet he echoed to
it directly； his soul answered its madness。 It filled him with
terror； almost with frenzy。
He learned to acquiesce to this； to submit to the awful；
obliterated sources which were the origin of his living tissue。
He was not what he conceived himself to be！ Then he was what he
was； unknown； potent； dark。
He became accustomed to the child； he knew how to lift and
balance the little body。 The baby had a beautiful； rounded head
that moved him passionately。 He would have fought to the last
drop to defend that exquisite； perfect round head。
He learned to know the little hands and feet； the strange；
unseeing； golden…brown eyes； the mouth that opened only to cry；
or to suck； or to show a queer； toothless laugh。 He could almost
understand even the dangling legs； which at first had created in
him a feeling of aversion。 They could kick in their queer little
way； they had their own softness。
One evening； suddenly； he saw the tiny； living thing rolling
naked in the mother's lap； and he was sick； it was so utterly
helpless and vulnerable and extraneous； in a world of hard
surfaces and varying altitudes； it lay vulnerable and naked at
every point。 Yet it was quite blithe。 And yet； in its blind；
awful crying； was there not the blind； far…off terror of its own
vulnerable nakedness； the terror of being so utterly delivered
over； helpless at every point。 He could not bear to hear it
crying。 His heart strained and stood on guard against the whole
universe。
But he waited for the dread of these days to pass； he saw the
joy ing。 He saw the lovely； creamy； cool little ear of the
baby； a bit of dark hair rubbed to a bronze floss； like
bronze…dust。 And he waited； for the child to bee his； to look
at him and answer him。
It had a separate being； but it was his own child。 His flesh
and blood vibrated to it。 He caught the baby to his breast with
his passionate； clapping laugh。 And the infant knew him。
As the newly…opened； newly…dawned eyes looked at him； he
wanted them to perceive him； to recognize him。 Then he was
verified。 The child knew him； a queer contortion of laughter
came on its face for him。 He caught it to his breast； clapping
with a triumphant laugh。
The golden…brown eyes of the child gradually lit up and
dilated at the sight of the dark…glowing face of the youth。 It
knew its mother better； it wanted its mother more。 But the
brightest； sharpest little ecstasy was for the father。
It began to be strong； to move vigorously and freely； to make
sounds like words。 It was a baby girl now。 Already it knew his
strong hands； it exulted in his strong clasp； it laughed and
crowed when he played with it。
And his heart grew red……hot with passionate feeling for
the child。 She was not much more than a year old when the second
baby was born。 Then he took Ursula for his own。 She his first
little girl。 He had set his heart on her。
The second had dark blue eyes and a fair skin： it was more a
Brangwen； people said。 The hair was fair。 But they forgot Anna's
stiff blonde fleece of childhood。 They called the newer
Gudrun。
This time； Anna was stronger； and not so eager。 She did not
mind that the baby was not a boy。 It was enough that she had
milk and could suckle her child： Oh； oh； the bliss of the little
life sucking the milk of her body！ Oh； oh； oh the bliss； as the
infant grew stronger； of the two tiny hands clutching； catching
blindly yet passionately at her breast； of the tiny mouth
seeking her in blind； sure； vital knowledge； of the sudden
consummate peace as the little body sank； the mouth and throat
sucking； sucking； sucking； drinking life from her to make a new
life； almost sobbing with passionate joy of receiving its own
existence； the tiny hands clutching frantically as the nipple
was drawn back； not to be gainsaid。 This was enough for Anna。
She seemed to pass off into a kind of rapture of motherhood； her
rapture of motherhood was everything。
So that the father had the elder baby； the weaned child； the
golden…brown； wondering vivid eyes of the little Ursula were for
him； who had waited behind the mother till the need was for him。
The mother felt a sharp stab of jealousy。 But she was still more
absorbed in the tiny baby。 It was entirely hers； its need was
direct upon her。
So Ursula became the child of her father's heart。 She was the
little blossom； he was the sun。 He was patient； energetic；
inventive for her。 He taught her all the funny little things； he
filled her and roused her to her fullest tiny measure。 She
answered him with her extravagant infant's laughter and her call
of delight。
Now there were two babies； a woman came in to do the
housework。 Anna was wholly nurse。 Two babies were not too much
for her。 But she hated any form of work； now her children had
e； except the charge of them。
When Ursula toddled about； she was an absorbed； busy child；
always amusing herself； needing not much attention from other
people。 At evening； towards six o'clock； Anna very often went
across the lane to the stile； lifted Ursula over into the field；
with a： 〃Go and meet Daddy。〃 Then Brangwen； ing up the steep
round of the hill； would see before him on the brow of the path
a tiny； tottering； windblown little mite with a dark hea