子浪小说

第51部分（第1页）

noble　life。

It　was　a　grief　to　her　that　her　father　made　such　a　poor

introduction。　He　was　brief　as　ever；　like　a　boy　saying　his

errand；　and　his　clothes　looked　ill…fitting　and　casual。　Whereas

Ursula　would　have　liked　robes　and　a　ceremonial　of　introduction

to　this；　her　new　estate。

She　made　a　new　illusion　of　school。　Miss　Grey；　the

headmistress；　had　a　certain　silvery；　school…mistressy　beauty　of

character。　The　school　itself　had　been　a　gentlemans　house。　Dark；

sombre　lawns　separated　it　from　the　dark；　select　avenue。　But　its

rooms　were　large　and　of　good　appearance；　and　from　the　back；　one

looked　over　lawns　and　shrubbery；　over　the　trees　and　the　grassy

slope　of　the　Arboretum；　to　the　town　which　heaped　the　hollow　with

its　roofs　and　cupolas　and　its　shadows。

So　Ursula　seated　herself　upon　the　hill　of　learning；　looking

down　on　the　smoke　and　confusion　and　the　manufacturing；　engrossed

activity　of　the　town。　She　was　happy。　Up　here；　in　the　Grammar

School；　she　fancied　the　air　was　finer；　beyond　the　factory　smoke。

She　wanted　to　learn　Latin　and　Greek　and　French　and　mathematics。

She　trembled　like　a　postulant　when　she　wrote　the　Greek　alphabet

for　the　first　time。

She　was　upon　another　hill…slope；　whose　summit　she　had　not

scaled。　There　was　always　the　marvellous　eagerness　in　her　heart；

to　climb　and　to　see　beyond。　A　Latin　verb　was　virgin　soil　to　her：

she　sniffed　a　new　odour　in　it；　it　meant　something；　though　she

did　not　know　what　it　meant。　But　she　gathered　it　up：　it　was

significant。　When　she　knew　that：

x2…y2　=　（x　＋　y）（x…y）

then　she　felt　that　she　had　grasped　something；　that　she　was

liberated　into　an　intoxicating　air；　rare　and　unconditioned。　And

she　was　very　glad　as　she　wrote　her　French　exercise：

〃JAI　DONNE　LE　PAIN　A　MON　PETIT　FRERE。〃

In　all　these　things　there　was　the　sound　of　a　bugle　to　her

heart；　exhilarating；　summoning　her　to　perfect　places。　She　never

forgot　her　brown　〃Longmans　First　French　Grammar〃；　nor　her　〃Via

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