THE WINDOWUncle James had brought her from India; orshould she wear her amethysts?“ Choose, dearests, choose," she said, hopingthat they would make haste.

But she let them take their time to choose:she let Rose, particularly, take up this and thenthat, and hold her jewels against the black dress,for this little ceremony of choosing jewels, whichwas gone through every night, was what Roseliked best, she knew. She had some hiddenreason of her own for attaching great importanceto this choosing what her mother was to wear.What was the reason, Mrs. Ramsay wondered,standing still to let her clasp the necklace shehad chosen, divining, through her own past, somedeep, some buried, some quite speechless feelingthat one had for one’s mother at Rose’s age.Like all feelings felt for oneselh Mrs. Ramsaythought, it made one sad. It was so inadequate,what one could give in return; and what Rosefelt was quite out of proportion to anythingshe actually was. And Rose would grow up;and Rose would suffer, she supposed, with thesedeep feelings, and she said she was ready now,and they would go down, and jasper, because hewas the gentleman, should give her his arm, andRose, as she was the lady, should carry her handkerchief (she gave her the handkerchief), andI27