Women in Love

Meanwhile Ursula had wandered on from Willey Water along the course of

the bright little stream. The afternoon was full of larks' singing. On

the bright hill-sides was a subdued smoulder of gorse. A few

forget-me-nots flowered by the water. There was a rousedness and a

glancing everywhere.

She strayed absorbedly on, over the brooks. She wanted to go to the

mill-pond above. The big mill-house was deserted, save for a labourer

and his wife who lived in the kitchen. So she passed through the empty

farm-yard and through the wilderness of a garden, and mounted the bank

by the sluice. When she got to the top, to see the old, velvety surface

of the pond before her, she noticed a man on the bank, tinkering with a

punt. It was Birkin sawing and hammering away.

She stood at the head of the sluice, looking at him. He was unaware of

anybody's presence. He looked very busy, like a wild animal, active and

intent. She felt she ought to go away, he would not want her. He seemed

to be so much occupied. But she did not want to go away. Therefore she

moved along the bank till he would look up.

Which he soon did. The moment he saw her, he dropped his tools and came

forward, saying: 'How do you do? I'm making the punt water-tight. Tell me if you think

it is right.' She went along with him.

'You are your father's daughter, so you can tell me if it will do,' he

said.

She bent to look at the patched punt.

'I am sure I am my father's daughter,' she said, fearful of having to

judge. 'But I don't know anything about carpentry. It LOOKS right,

don't you think?' 'Yes, I think. I hope it won't let me to the bottom, that's all. Though

even so, it isn't a great matter, I should come up again. Help me to

get it into the water, will you?' With combined efforts they turned over the heavy punt and set it

afloat.

'Now,' he said, 'I'll try it and you can watch what happens. Then if it

carries, I'll take you over to the island.' 'Do,' she cried, watching anxiously.

The pond was large, and had that perfect stillness and the dark lustre

of very deep water. There were two small islands overgrown with bushes

and a few trees, towards the middle. Birkin pushed himself off, and

veered clumsily in the pond. Luckily the punt drifted so that he could

catch hold of a willow bough, and pull it to the island.