第68部分(第4/7 頁)

y；　the　man…made　world。

As　she　returned　home；　she　dreamed　again　in　her　own　fashion

her　old；　gorgeous　dreams。　One　of　her　applications　was　to

Gillingham；　in　Kent；　one　to　Kingston…on…Thames；　and　one　to

Swanwick　in　Derbyshire。

Gillingham　was　such　a　lovely　name；　and　Kent　was　the　Garden　of

England。　So　that；　in　Gillingham；　an　old；　old　village　by　the

hopfields；　where　the　sun　shone　softly；　she　came　out　of　school　in

the　afternoon　into　the　shadow　of　the　plane　trees　by　the　gate；

and　turned　down　the　sleepy　road　towards　the　cottage　where

cornflowers　poked　their　blue　heads　through　the　old　wooden　fence；

and　phlox　stood　built　up　of　blossom　beside　the　path。

A　delicate；　silver…haired　lady　rose　with　delicate；　ivory

hands　uplifted　as　Ursula　entered　the　room；　and：

〃Oh；　my　dear；　what　do　you　think！〃

〃What　is　it；　Mrs。　Wetherall？〃

Frederick　had　e　home。　Nay；　his　manly　step　was　heard　on　the

stair；　she　saw　his　strong　boots；　his　blue　trousers；　his

uniformed　figure；　and　then　his　face；　clean　and　keen　as　an

eagle's；　and　his　eyes　lit　up　with　the　glamour　of　strange　seas；

ah；　strange　seas　that　had　woven　through　his　soul；　as　he

descended　into　the　kitchen。

This　dream；　with　its　amplifications；　lasted　her　a　mile　of

walking。　Then　she　went　to　Kingston…on…Thames。

Kingston…on…Thames　was　an　old　historic　place　just　south　of

London。　There　lived　the　well…born　dignified　souls　who　belonged

to　the　metropolis；　but　who　loved　peace。　There　she　met　a

wonderful　family　of　girls　living　in　a　large　old　Queen　Anne

house；　whose　lawns　sloped　to　the　river；　and　in　an　atmosphere　of

stately　peace　she　found　herself　among　her　soul's　intimat