THE WINDOWa bath than without fresh air, but then at home,she had said, “the mountains are so beautiful." Shehad said that last night looking out of the windowwith tears in her eyes. "The mountains are so beau-tiful." Her father was dying there, Mrs. Ramsayknew. He was leaving them fatherless. Scolding anddemonstrating (how to make a bed, how to open awindow, with hands that shut and spread like aFrenchwoman’s) all had folded itself quietly abouther, when the girl spoke, as, after a flight throughthe sunshine the wings of a bird fold themselvesquietly and the blue of its plumage changes frombright steel to soft purple. She had stood there silentfor there was nothing to be said. He had cancer ofthe throat. At the recollection—how she had stoodthere, how the girl had said, "At home the mountainsare so beautiful," and there was no hope, no hopewhatever, she had a spasm of irritation, and speak-ing sharply, said to James:

"Stand still. Don’t be tiresome," so that he knewinstantly that her severity was real, and straightenedhis leg and she measured it.

The stocking was too short by half an inch atleast, making allowance for the fact that Sorley’slittle boy would be less well grown than James.

“It’s too short," she said, "ever so much tooshort."45
Resize Images  

Select Pane

Berg Materials

View Pane