Chapter I I was sixteen then. It happened in the summer of 1833. I lived in Moscow with my parents. They had taken a country house for the summer near the Kalouga gate, facing the Neskutchny gardens. I was preparing for the university, but did not work much and was in no hurry. No one interfered with my freedom. I did what I liked, especially after parting with my last tutor, a Frenchman who had never been able to get used to the idea that he had fallen ‘like a bomb’ (commeune bombe) into Russia, and would lie sluggishly in bed with an expression of exasperation on his face for days together. My father treated me with careless kindness; my mother scarcely noticed me, though she had no children except me; other cares completely absorbed her. My father, a man still young and very handsome, had married her from mercenary considerations; she was ten years older than he. My mother led a melancholy life; she was for ever agitated, jealous and angry, but not in my father’s presence; she was very much afraid of him, and he was severe, cold, and distant in his behaviour… . I have never seen a man more elaborately serene, selfconfident, and commanding. I shall never forget the first weeks I spent at the country house. The weather was magnificent; we left town on the 9th of May, on St. Nicholas’s day. I used to walk about in our garden, in the Neskutchny gardens, and beyond the town gates; I would take some book with me – Keidanov’s Course, for instance – but I rarely looked into it, and more often than anything declaimed verses aloud; I knew a great deal of poetry by heart; my

Chapter 1 . SISTERS Ursula and Gudrun Brangwen sat one morning in the window bay of their father's house in Beldover, working and talking. Ursula was stitching a piece of brightly coloured embroidery, and Gudrun was drawing upon a board which she held on her knee. They were mostly silent, talking as their thoughts strayed through their minds. 'Ursula,' said Gudrun, 'don't you REALLY WANT to get married?' Ursula laid her embroidery in her lap and looked up. Her face was calm and considerate. 'I don't know,' she replied. 'It depends how you mean.' Gudrun was slightly taken aback. She watched her sister for some moments. 'Well,' she said, ironically, 'it usually means one thing! But don't you think anyhow, you'd be ' she darkened slightly 'in a better position than you are in now.' A shadow came over Ursula's face. 'I might,' she said. 'But I'm not sure.' Again Gudrun paused, slightly irritated. She wanted to be quite definite. 'You don't think one needs the EXPERIENCE of having been married?' she asked. 'Do you think it need BE an experience?' replied Ursula. 'Bound to be, in some way or other,' said Gudrun, coolly. 'Possibly undesirable, but bound to be an experience of some sort.' 'Not really,' said Ursula. 'More likely to be the end of experience.' Gudrun sat very still, to attend to this. 'Of course,' she said, 'there's THAT to consider.' This brought the conversation to a close. Gudrun, almost angrily, took up her rubber and began to rub out part of her drawing. Ursula stitched absorbedly. 'You wouldn't consider a good offer?' asked Gudrun. 'I think I've rejected several,' said Ursula. 'REALLY!' Gudrun flushed dark 'But anything really worth while? Have you REALLY?' 'A thousand a year, and an awfully nice man. I liked him awfully,' said