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The Rainbow

Page 434

In all these things there was the sound of a bugle to her

heart, exhilarating, summoning her to perfect places. She never

forgot her brown "Longman's First French Grammar", nor her "Via

Latina" with its red edges, nor her little grey Algebra book.

There was always a magic in them.

At learning she was quick, intelligent, instinctive, but she

was not "thorough". If a thing did not come to her

instinctively, she could not learn it. And then, her mad rage of

loathing for all lessons, her bitter contempt of all teachers

and schoolmistresses, her recoil to a fierce, animal arrogance

made her detestable.

She was a free, unabateable animal, she declared in her

revolts: there was no law for her, nor any rule. She existed for

herself alone. Then ensued a long struggle with everybody, in

which she broke down at last, when she had run the full length

of her resistance, and sobbed her heart out, desolate; and

afterwards, in a chastened, washed-out, bodiless state, she

received the understanding that would not come before, and went

her way sadder and wiser.

Ursula and Gudrun went to school together. Gudrun was a shy,

quiet, wild creature, a thin slip of a thing hanging back from

notice or twisting past to disappear into her own world again.

She seemed to avoid all contact, instinctively, and pursued her

own intent way, pursuing half-formed fancies that had no

relation to anyone else.

She was not clever at all. She thought Ursula clever enough

for two. Ursula understood, so why should she, Gudrun, bother

herself? The younger girl lived her religious, responsible life

in her sister, by proxy. For herself, she was indifferent and

intent as a wild animal, and as irresponsible.

When she found herself at the bottom of the class, she

laughed, lazily, and was content, saying she was safe now. She

did not mind her father's chagrin nor her mother's tinge of

mortification.

"What do I pay for you to go to Nottingham for?" her father

asked, exasperated.

"Well, Dad, you know you needn't pay for me," she replied,

nonchalant. "I'm ready to stop at home."

She was happy at home, Ursula was not. Slim and unwilling

abroad, Gudrun was easy in her own house as a wild thing in its

lair. Whereas Ursula, attentive and keen abroad, at home was

reluctant, uneasy, unwilling to be herself, or unable.

Nevertheless Sunday remained the maximum day of the week for

both. Ursula turned passionately to it, to the sense of eternal

security it gave. She suffered anguish of fears during the

week-days, for she felt strong powers that would not recognize

her. There was upon her always a fear and a dislike of

authority. She felt she could always do as she wanted if she

managed to avoid a battle with Authority and the authorised

Powers. But if she gave herself away, she would be lost,

destroyed. There was always the menace against her.

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