The Rainbow

"Why don't you go on with your wood-carving?" she said. "Why

don't you finish your Adam and Eve?"

But she did not care for the Adam and Eve, and he never put

another stroke to it. She jeered at the Eve, saying, "She is

like a little marionette. Why is she so small? You've made Adam

as big as God, and Eve like a doll."

"It is impudence to say that Woman was made out of Man's

body," she continued, "when every man is born of woman. What

impudence men have, what arrogance!"

In a rage one day, after trying to work on the board, and

failing, so that his belly was a flame of nausea, he chopped up

the whole panel and put it on the fire. She did not know. He

went about for some days very quiet and subdued after it.

"Where is the Adam and Eve board?" she asked him.

"Burnt."

She looked at him.

"But your carving?"

"I burned it."

"When?"

She did not believe him.

"On Friday night."

"When I was at the Marsh?"

"Yes."

She said no more.

Then, when he had gone to work, she wept for a whole day, and

was much chastened in spirit. So that a new, fragile flame of

love came out of the ashes of this last pain.

Directly, it occurred to her that she was with child. There

was a great trembling of wonder and anticipation through her

soul. She wanted a child. Not that she loved babies so much,

though she was touched by all young things. But she wanted to

bear children. And a certain hunger in her heart wanted to unite

her husband with herself, in a child.

She wanted a son. She felt, a son would be everything. She

wanted to tell her husband. But it was such a trembling,

intimate thing to tell him, and he was at this time hard and

unresponsive. So that she went away and wept. It was such a

waste of a beautiful opportunity, such a frost that nipped in

the bud one of the beautiful moments of her life. She went about

heavy and tremulous with her secret, wanting to touch him, oh,

most delicately, and see his face, dark and sensitive, attend to

her news. She waited and waited for him to become gentle and

still towards her. But he was always harsh and he bullied

her.

So that the buds shrivelled from her confidence, she was

chilled. She went down to the Marsh.

"Well," said her father, looking at her and seeing her at the

first glance, "what's amiss wi' you now?"

The tears came at the touch of his careful love.

"Nothing," she said.

"Can't you hit it off, you two?" he said.

"He's so obstinate," she quivered; but her soul was obdurate

itself.