created together； they had their heavy beauty and their delight。
Shame； what was it？ It was part of extreme delight。 It was that
part of delight of which man is usually afraid。 Why afraid？ The
secret； shameful things are most terribly beautiful。
They accepted shame； and were one with it in their most
unlicensed pleasures。 It was incorporated。 It was a bud that
blossomed into beauty and heavy； fundamental gratification。
Their outward life went on much the same； but the inward life
was revolutionized。 The children became less important； the
parents were absorbed in their own living。
And gradually； Brangwen began to find himself free to attend
to the outside life as well。 His intimate life was so violently
active； that it set another man in him free。 And this new man
turned with interest to public life； to see what part he could
take in it。 This would give him scope for new activity； activity
of a kind for which he was now created and released。 He wanted
to be unanimous with the whole of purposive mankind。
At this time Education was in the forefront as a subject of
interest。 There was the talk of new Swedish methods； of handwork
instruction； and so on。 Brangwen embraced sincerely the idea of
handwork in schools。 For the first time； he began to take real
interest in a public affair。 He had at length； from his profound
sensual activity； developed a real purposive self。
There was talk of nightschools； and of handicraft classes。
He wanted to start a woodwork class in Cossethay； to teach
carpentry and joinery and woodcarving to the village boys； two
nights a week。 This seemed to him a supremely desirable thing to
be doing。 His pay would be very littleand when he had it；
he spent it all on extra wood and tools。 But he was very happy
and keen in his new public spirit。
He started his nightclasses in woodwork when he was thirty
years old。 By this time he had five children； the last a boy。
But boy or girl mattered very little to him。 He had a natural
bloodaffection for his children； and he liked them as they
turned up： boys or girls。 Only he was fondest of Ursula。
Somehow； she seemed to be at the back of his new nightschool
venture。
The house by the yew trees was in connection with the great
human endeavour at last。 It gained a new vigour thereby。
To Ursula； a child of eight； the increase in magic was
considerable。 She heard all the talk； she saw the parish room
fitted up as a workshop。 The parish room was a high； stone；
barnlike； ecclesiastical building standing away by itself in
the Brangwens' second garden； across the lane。 She was always
attracted by its age and its stranded obsoleteness。 Now she
watched preparations made； she sat on the flight of stone steps
that came down from the porch to the garden； and heard her
father and the vicar talking and planning and working。 Then an
inspector came； a very strange man； and stayed talking with her
father all one evening。 Everything was settled； and twelve boys
enrolled their names。 It was very exciting。
But to Ursula； everything her father did was magic。 Whether
he came from Ilkeston with news of the town； whether he went
across to the church with his music or his tools on a sunny
evening； whether he sat in his white surplice at the an on
Sundays； leading the singing with his strong tenor voice； or
whether he were in the workshop with the boys； he was always a
centre of magic and fascination to her； his voice； sounding out
in mand； cheerful； laconic； had always a twang in it that
sent a thrill over her blood； and hypnotized her。 She seemed to
run in the shadow of some dark； potent secret of which she would
not； of whose existence even she dared not bee conscious； it
cast such a spell over her； and so darkened her mind。
CHAPTER IX
THE MARSH AND THE FLOOD
There was always regular connection between the Yew Cottage
and the Marsh； yet the two households remained separate；
distinct。
After Anna's marriage； the Marsh became the home of the two
boys； Tom and Fred。 Tom was a rather short； goodlooking youth；
with crisp black hair and long black eyelashes and soft； dark；
possessed eyes。 He had a quick intelligence。 From the High
School he went to London to study。 He had an instinct for
attracting people of character and energy。 He gave place
entirely to the other person； and at the same time kept himself
independent。 He scarcely existed except through other people。
When he was alone he was unresolved。 When he was with another
man； he seemed to add himself to the other； make the other
bigger than life size。 So that a few people loved him and
attained a sort of fulfilment in him。 He carefully chose these
few。
He had a subtle； quick； critical intelligence； a mind that
was like a scale or balance。 There was something of a woman in
all this。
In London he had been the favourite pupil of an engineer； a
clever man； who became wellknown at the time when Tom Brangwen
had just finished his studies。 Through this master the youth
kept acquaintance with various individual； outstanding
characters。 He never asserted himself。 He seemed to be there to
estimate and establish the rest。 He was like a presence that
makes us aware of our own being。 So that he was while still
young connected with some of the most energetic scientific and
mathematical people in London。 They took him as an equal。 Quiet
and perceptive and impersonal as he was； he kept his place and
learned how to value others in just degree。 He was there like a
judgment。 Besides； he was very goodlooking； of medium stature；
but beautifully proportioned； dark； with fine colouring； always
perfectly healthy。
His father allowed him a liberal pocketmoney； besides which
he had a sort of post as assistant to his chief。 Then from time
to time the young man appeared at the Marsh； curiously
attractive； welldressed； reserved； having by nature a subtle；
refined manner。 And he set the change in the farm。
Fred； the younger brother； was a Brangwen； largeboned；
blueeyed； English。 He was his father's very son； the two men；
father and son； were supremely at ease with one another。 Fred
was succeeding to the farm。
Between the elder brother and the younger existed an almost
passionate love。 Tom watched over Fred with a woman's poignant
attention and selfless care。 Fred looked up to Tom as to
something miraculous； that which he himself would aspire to be；
were he great also。
So that after Anna's departure； the Marsh began to take on a
new tone。 The boys were gentlemen； Tom had a rare nature and had
risen high。 Fred was sensitive and fond of reading； he pondered
Ruskin and then the Agnostic writings。 Like all the Brangwens；
he was very much a thing to himself； though fond of people； and
indulgent to them； having an exaggerated respect for them。
There was a rather uneasy friendship between him and one of
the young Hardys at the Hall。 The two households were different；
yet the young men met on shy terms of equality。
It was young Tom Brangwen； with his dark lashes and beautiful
colouring； his soft； inscrutable nature； his strange repose and
his informed air； added to his position in London； who seemed to
emphasize the superior foreign element in the Marsh。 When he
appeared； perfectly dressed； as if soft and affable； and yet
quite removed from everybody； he created an uneasiness in
people； he was reserved in the minds of the Cossethay and
Ilkeston acquaintances to a different； remote world。
He and his mother had a kind of affinity。 The affection
between them was of a mute； distant character； but radical。 His
father was always uneasy and slightly deferential to his eldest
son。 Tom also formed the link that kept the Marsh in real
connection with the Skrebenskys； noportant people in
their own district。
So a change in tone came over the Marsh。 Tom Brangwen the
father； as he grew older； seemed to mature into a
gentlemanfarmer。 His figure lent itself： burly and handsome。
His face remained fresh and his blue eyes as full of light； his
thick hair and beard had turned gradually to a silky whiteness。
It was his custom to laugh a great deal； in his acquiescent；
wilful manner。 Things had puzzled him very much； so he had taken
the line of easy； goodhumoured acceptance。 He was not
responsible for the frame of things。 Yet he was afraid of the
unknown in life。
He was fairly welloff。 His wife was there with him； a
different being from himself； yet somewhere vitally connected
with him：who was he to understand where and how？ His two
sons were gentlemen。 They were men distinct from himself； they
had separate beings of their own； yet they were connected with
himself。 It was all adventurous and puzzling。 Yet one remained
vital within one's own existence； whatever the offshoots。
So； handsome and puzzled； he laughed and stuck to himself as
the only thing he could stick to。 His youngness and the wonder
remained almost the same in him。 He became indolent； he
developed a luxuriant ease。 Fred did most of the farmwork； the
father saw to the more important transactions。 He drove a good
mare； and sometimes he rode his cob。 He drank in the hotels and
the inns with betterclass farmers and proprietors； he had
en。 But one class suited him no
better than another。
His wife； as ever； had no acquaintances。 Her hair was
threaded now with grey； her face grew older in form without
changing in expression。 She seemed the same as when she had e
to the Marsh twentyfive years ago； save that her health was
more fragile。 She seemed always to haunt the Marsh rather than
to live there。 She was never part of the life。 Something she
represented was alien there； she remained a stranger within the
gates； in some ways fixed and impervious； in some ways curiously
refining。 She caused the separateness and individuality of all
the Marsh inmates； the friability of the household。
When young Tom Brangwen was twentythree years old there was
some breach between him and his chief which was never explained；
and he went away to Italy； then to America。 He came home for a
while； then went to Germany； always the same goodlooking；
carefullydressed； attractive young man； in perfect health； yet
somehow outside of everything。 In his dark eyes was a deep
misery which he wore with the same ease and pleasantness as he
wore his closesitting clothes。
To Ursula he was a romantic； alluring figure。 He had a grace
of bringing beautiful presents： a box of expensive sweets； such
as Cossethay had never seen； or he gave her a hairbrush and a
long slim mirror of motherofpearl； all pale and glimmering and
exquisite； or he sent her a little necklace of rough stones；
amethyst and opal and brilliants and gar。 He spoke other
languages easily and fluently； his nature was curiously gracious
and insinuating。 With all that； he was undefinably an outsider。
He belonged to nowhere； to no society。
Anna Brangwen had left her intimacy with her father
undeveloped since the time of her marriage。 At her marriage it
had been abandoned。 He and she had drawn a reserve between them。
Anna went more to her mother。
Then suddenly the father died。
It happened one springtime when Ursula was about eight years
old； he； Tom Brangwen； drove off on a Saturday morning to th