THE WINDOWHow could she be such a goose, he asked, asto scramble about the rocks in jewels?She was by way of being terrified of him—hewas so fearfully clever, and the first night whenshe had sat by him, and he talked about GeorgeEliot, she had been really frightened, for she hadleft the third volume of Middlemarch in the trainand she never knew what happened in the end;but afterwards she got on perfectly, and madeherself out even more ignorant than she was,because he liked telling her she was a fool. Andso to-night, directly he laughed at her, she wasnot frightened. Besides, she knew, directly shecame into the room, that the miracle had happened;she wore her golden haze. Sometimes she had it;sometimes not. She never knew why it came orwhy it went, or if she had it until she came intothe room and then she knew instantly by the waysome man looked at her. Yes, to-night she hadit, tremendously; she knew that by the way Mr.Ramsay told her not to be a fool. She sat besidehim, smiling.It must have happened then, thought Mrs.Ramsay; they are engaged. And for a momentshe felt what she had never expected to feel again—jealousy. For he, her husband, felt it too—Minta’s glow; he liked these girls, these golden-reddish girls, with something flying, something a153