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without knowing it； conscious of the hands and motionless knees
of her cousin。 Something strange had entered into her world；
something entirely strange and unlike what she knew。
She was curiously elated。 She sat in a glowing world of
unreality； very delightful。 A brooding light； like laughter； was
in her eyes。 She was aware of a strange influence entering in to
her； which she enjoyed。 It was a dark enrichening influence she
had not known before。 She did not think of her cousin。 But she
was startled when his hands moved。
She wished he would not say the responses so plainly。 It
diverted her from her vague enjoyment。 Why would he obtrude； and
draw notice to himself？ It was bad taste。 But she went on all
right till the hymn came。 He stood up beside her to sing； and
that pleased her。 Then suddenly； at the very first word； his
voice came strong and overriding； filling the church。 He was
singing the tenor。 Her soul opened in amazement。 His voice
filled the church！ It rang out like a trumpet； and rang out
again。 She started to giggle over her hymnbook。 But he went on；
perfectly steady。 Up and down rang his voice； going its own way。
She was helplessly shocked into laughter。 Between moments of
dead silence in herself she shook with laughter。 On came the
laughter； seized her and shook her till the tears were in her
eyes。 She was amazed； and rather enjoyed it。 And still the hymn
rolled on； and still she laughed。 She bent over her hymnbook
crimson with confusion； but still her sides shook with laughter。
She pretended to cough； she pretended to have a crumb in her
throat。 Fred was gazing up at her with clear blue eyes。 She was
recovering herself。 And then a slur in the strong； blind voice
at her side brought it all on again； in a gust of mad
laughter。
She bent down to prayer in cold reproof of herself。 And yet；
as she knelt； little eddies of giggling went over her。 The very
sight of his knees on the praying cushion sent the little shock
of laughter over her。
She gathered herself together and sat with prim； pure face；
white and pink and cold as a Christmas rose； her hands in her
silk gloves folded on her lap； her dark eyes all vague；
abstracted in a sort of dream； oblivious of everything。
The sermon rolled on vaguely； in a tide of pregnant
peace。
Her cousin took out his pockethandkerchief。 He seemed to be
drifted absorbed into the sermon。 He put his handkerchief to his
face。 Then something dropped on to his knee。 There lay the bit
of flowering currant！ He was looking down at it in real
astonishment。 A wild snort of laughter came from Anna。 Everybody
heard： it was torture。 He had shut the crumpled flower in his
hand and was looking up again with the same absorbed attention
to the sermon。 Another snort of laughter from Anna。 Fred nudged
her remindingly。
Her cousin sat motionless。 Somehow he was aware that his face
was red。 She could feel him。 His hand； closed over the flower；
remained quite still； pretending to be normal。 Another wild
struggle in Anna's breast； and the snort of laughter。 She bent
forward shaking with laughter。 It was now no joke。 Fred was
nudgenudging at her。 She nudged him back fiercely。 Then another
vicious spasm of laughter seized her。 She tried to ward it off
in a little cough。 The cough ended in a suppressed whoop。 She
wanted to die。 And the closed hand crept away to the pocket。
Whilst she sat in taut suspense； the laughter rushed back at
her； knowing he was fumbling in his pocket to shove the flower
away。
In the end； she felt weak； exhausted and thoroughly
depressed。 A blankness of wincing depression came over her。 She
hated the presence of the other people。 Her face became quite
haughty。 She was unaware of her cousin any more。
When the collection arrived with the last hymn； her cousin
was again singing resoundingly。 And still it amused her。 In
spite of the shameful exhibition she had made of herself； it
amused her still。 She listened to it in a spell of amusement。
And the bag was thrust in front of her； and her sixpence was
mingled in the folds of her glove。 In her haste to get it out；
it flipped away and went twinkling in the next pew。 She stood
and giggled。 She could not help it： she laughed outright； a
figure of shame。
〃What were you laughing about； our Anna？〃 asked Fred； the
moment they were out of the church。
〃Oh； I couldn't help it；〃 she said； in her careless；
halfmocking fashion。 〃I don't know why Cousin Will's
singing set me off。〃
〃What was there in my singing to make you laugh？〃 he
asked。
〃It was so loud；〃 she said。
They did not look at each other； but they both laughed again；
both reddening。
〃What were you snorting and laughing for； our Anna？〃 asked
Tom； the elder brother； at the dinner table； his hazel eyes
bright with joy。 〃Everybody stopped to look at you。〃 Tom was in
the choir。
She was aware of Will's eyes shining steadily upon her；
waiting for her to speak。
〃It was Cousin Will's singing；〃 she said。
At which her cousin burst into a suppressed； chuckling laugh；
suddenly showing all his small； regular； rather sharp teeth； and
just as quickly closing his mouth again。
〃Has he got such a remarkable voice on him then？〃 asked
Brangwen。
〃No； it's not that；〃 said Anna。 〃Only it tickled meI
couldn't tell you why。〃
And again a ripple of laughter went down the table。
Will Brangwen thrust forward his dark face； his eyes dancing；
and said：
〃I'm in the choir of St。 Nicholas。〃
〃Oh； you go to church then！〃 said Brangwen。
〃Mother doesfather doesn't；〃 replied the youth。
It was the little things； his movement； the funny tones of
his voice； that showed up big to Anna。 The matteroffact things
he said were absurd in contrast。 The things her father said
seemed meaningless and neutral。
During the afternoon they sat in the parlour； that smelled of
geranium； and they ate cherries； and talked。 Will Brangwen was
called on to give himself forth。 And soon he was drawn out。
He was interested in churches； in church architecture。 The
influence of Ruskin had stimulated him to a pleasure in the
medieval forms。 His talk was fragmentary； he was only half
articulate。 But listening to him； as he spoke of church after
church； of nave and chancel and transept； of roodscreen and
font； of hatchetcarving and moulding and tracery； speaking
always with close passion of particular things； particular
places； there gathered in her heart a pregnant hush of churches；
a mystery； a ponderous significance of bowed stone； a
dimcoloured light through which something took place obscurely；
passing into darkness： a high； delighted framework of the mystic
screen； and beyond； in the furthest beyond； the altar。 It was a
very real experience。 She was carried away。 And the land seemed
to be covered with a vast； mystic church； reserved in gloom；
thrilled with an unknown Presence。
Almost it hurt her； to look out of the window and see the
lilacs towering in the vivid sunshine。 Or was this the jewelled
glass？
He talked of Gothic and Renaissance and Perpendicular； and
Early English and Norman。 The words thrilled her。
〃Have you been to Southwell？〃 he said。 〃I was there at twelve
o'clock at midday； eating my lunch in the churchyard。 And the
bells played a hymn。
〃Ay； it's a fine Minster； Southwell； heavy。 It's got heavy；
round arches； rather low； on thick pillars。 It's grand； the way
those arches travel forward。
〃There's a sedilia as wellpretty。 But I like the main
body of the churchand that north porch〃
He was very much excited and filled with himself that
afternoon。 A flame kindled round him； making his experience
passionate and glowing； burningly real。
His uncle listened with twinkling eyes； halfmoved。 His aunt
bent forward her dark face； halfmoved； but held by other
knowledge。 Anna went with him。
He returned to his lodging at night treading quick； his eyes
glittering； and his face shining darkly as if he came from some
passionate； vital tryst。
The glow remained in him； the fire burned； his heart was
fierce like a sun。 He enjoyed his unknown life and his own self。
And he was ready to go back to the Marsh。
Without knowing it； Anna was wanting him to e。 In him she
had escaped。 In him the bounds of her experience were
transgressed： he was the hole in the wall； beyond which the
sunshine blazed on an outside world。
He came。 Sometimes； not often； but sometimes； talking again；
there recurred the strange； remote reality which carried
everything before it。 Sometimes； he talked of his father； whom
he hated with a hatred that was burningly close to love； of his
mother； whom he loved； with a love that was keenly close to
hatred； or to revolt。 His sentences were clumsy； he was only
half articulate。 But he had the wonderful voice； that could ring
its vibration through the girl's soul； transport her into his
feeling。 Sometimes his voice was hot and declamatory； sometimes
it had a strange； twanging； almost catlike sound； sometimes it
hesitated； puzzled； sometimes there was the break of a little
laugh。 Anna was taken by him。 She loved the running flame that
coursed through her as she listened to him。 And his mother and
his father became to her two separate people in her life。
For some weeks the youth came frequently； and was received
gladly by them all。 He sat amongst them； his dark face glowing；
an eagerness and a touch of derisiveness on his wide mouth；
something grinning and twisted； his eyes always shining like a
bird's； utterly without depth。 There was no getting hold of the
fellow； Brangwen irritably thought。 He was like a grinning young
tomcat； that came when he thought he would； and without
cognizance of the other person。
At first the youth had looked towards Tom Brangwen when he
talked； and then he looked towards his aunt； for her
appreciation； valuing it more than his uncle's； and then he
turned to Anna； because from her he got what he wanted； which
was not in the elder people。
So that the two young people； from being always attendant on
the elder； began to draw apart and establish a separate kingdom。
Sometimes Tom Brangwen was irritated。 His nephew irritated him。
The lad seemed to him too special； selfcontained。 His nature
was fierce enough； but too much abstracted； like a separate
thing； like a cat's nature。 A cat could lie perfectly peacefully
on the hearthrug whilst its master or mistress writhed in agony
a yard away。 It had nothing to do with other people's affairs。
What did the lad really care about anything； save his own
instinctive affairs？
Brangwen was irritated。 Nevertheless he liked and respected
his nephew。 Mrs。 Brangwen was irritated by Anna； who was
suddenly changed； under the influence of the youth。 The mother
liked the boy： he was not quite an outsider。 But she did not
like her daughter to be so much under the spell。
So that gradually the two young people drew apart； escaped
from the elders； to create a new thing by themselves。 He worked
in the garden to propitiate his uncle。 He talked churches to
propitiate his aunt。 He followed Anna like a shadow： like a
long； persistent； unswerving black shadow he went after the
girl。 It irritated Brangwen exceedingly。 It exasperated him
beyond bearing； to see the litup grin； the catgrin as he
called it； on his nephew's face。
And Anna had a new reserve； a new independence。 Suddenly she
began to act independently of her parents； to live beyond them。
Her mother had flashes of anger。
But the courtship went on。 Anna would find occasion to go
shopping in Ilkeston at evening。 She always returned with her
cousin； he walking with his head over her shoulder； a little bit
behind her； like the Devil looking over Lincoln； as Brangwen
noted angrily and yet with satisfaction。
To his own wonder； Will Brangwen found himself in an electric
state of passion。 To his wonder； he had stopped her at the gate
as they came home from Ilkeston one night； and had kissed her；
blocking her way and kissing her whilst he felt as if some blow
were struck at him in the dark。 And when they went indoors； he
was acutely angry that her parents looked up scrutinizing at him
and her。 What right had they there： why should they look up！ Let
them remove themselves； or look elsewhere。