TO THE LIGHTHOUSEinto the maids’ bedrooms at night and find themsealed like ovens, except for Marie’s, the Swissgirl, who would rather go without a bath thanwithout fresh air, but then at home, she had said,"the mountains are so beautiful." She had saidthat last night looking out of the window withtears in her eyes. "The mountains are sobeautiful." Her father was dying there, Mrs.Ramsay knew. He was leaving them fatherless.Scolding and demonstrating (how to make a bed,how to open a window, with hands that shut andspread like a Frenchwoman’s) all had foldeditself quietly about her, when the girl spoke, as,after a flight through the sunshine the wings of abird fold themselves quietly and the blue of itsplumage changes from bright steel to soft purple.She had stood there silent for there was nothingto be said. He had cancer of the throat. At therecollection—how she had stood there, how thegirl had said “At home the mountains are sobeautiful", and there was no hope, no hope what-ever, she had a spasm of irritation, and speakingsharply, said to James:

"Stand still. Don’t be tiresome," so that heknew instantly that her severity was real, andstraightened his leg and she measured it.

The stocking was too short by half an inch atleast, making allowance for the fact that Sorley’s

48
Resize Images  

Select Pane

Berg Materials
 

View Pane