第48部分

請關閉瀏覽器的閱讀/暢讀/小說模式並且關閉廣告遮蔽過濾功能，避免出現內容無法顯示或者段落錯亂。

　innocence　of　age。

She　had　never　been　a　woman　to　work　much。　So　that　now　she

would　stand　often　at　the　garden…gate；　watching　the　scant　world

go　by。　And　the　sight　of　children　pleased　her；　made　her　happy。

She　had　usually　an　apple　or　a　few　sweets　in　her　pocket。　She

liked　children　to　smile　at　her。

She　never　went　to　her　husband's　grave。　She　spoke　of　him

simply；　as　if　he　were　alive。　Sometimes　the　tears　would　run　down

her　face；　in　helpless　sadness。　Then　she　recovered；　and　was

herself　again；　happy。

On　wet　days；　she　stayed　in　bed。　Her　bedroom　was　her　city　of

refuge；　where　she　could　lie　down　and　muse　and　muse。　Sometimes

Fred　would　read　to　her。　But　that　did　not　mean　much。　She　had　so

many　dreams　to　dream　over；　such　an　unsifted　store。　She　wanted

time。

Her　chief　friend　at　this　period　was　Ursula。　The　little　girl

and　the　musing；　fragile　woman　of　sixty　seemed　to　understand　the

same　language。　At　Cossethay　all　was　activity　and　passion；

everything　moved　upon　poles　of　passion。　Then　there　were　four

children　younger　than　Ursula；　a　throng　of　babies；　all　the　time

many　lives　beating　against　each　other。

So　that　for　the　eldest　child；　the　peace　of　the　grandmother's

bedroom　was　exquisite。　Here　Ursula　came　as　to　a　hushed；

paradisal　land；　here　her　own　existence　became　simple　and

exquisite　to　her　as　if　she　were　a　flower。

Always　on　Saturdays　she　came　down　to　the　Marsh；　and　always

clutching　a　little　offering；　either　a　little　mat　made　of　strips

of　coloured；　woven　paper；　or　a　tiny　basket　made　in　the

kindergarten　lesson；　or　a　little　crayon　drawing　of　a　bird。

When　she　appeared　in　the　doorway；　Tilly；　ancient　but