She was happy at home; Ursula was not。 Slim and unwilling
abroad; Gudrun was easy in her own house as a wild thing in its
lair。 Whereas Ursula; attentive and keen abroad; at home was
reluctant; uneasy; unwilling to be herself; or unable。
Nevertheless Sunday remained the maximum day of the week for
both。 Ursula turned passionately to it; to the sense of eternal
security it gave。 She suffered anguish of fears during the
week…days; for she felt strong powers that would not recognize
her。 There was upon her always a fear and a dislike of
authority。 She felt she could always do as she wanted if she
managed to avoid a battle with Authority and the authorised
Powers。 But if she gave herself away; she would be lost;
destroyed。 There was always the menace against her。
This strange sense of cruelty and ugliness always imminent;
ready to seize hold upon her this feeling of the grudging power
of the mob lying in wait for her; who was the exception; formed
one of the deepest influences of her life。 Wherever she was; at
school; among friends; in the street; in the train; she
instinctively abated herself; made herself smaller; feigned to
be less than she was; for fear that her undiscovered self should
be seen; pounced upon; attacked by brutish resentment of the
monplace; the average Self。
She was fairly safe at school; now。 She knew how to take her
place there; and how much of herself to reserve。 But she was
free only on Sundays。 When she was but a girl of fourteen; she
began to feel a resentment growing against her in her own home。
She knew she was the disturbing influence there。 But as yet; on
Sundays; she was free; really free; free to be herself; without
fear or misgiving。
Even at its stormiest; Sunday was a blessed day。 Ursula woke
to it with a feeling of immense relief。 She wondered why her
heart was so light。 Then she remembered it was Sunday。 A
gladness seemed to burst out around her; a feeling of great
freedom。 The whole world was for twenty…four hours revoked; put
back。 Only the Sunday world existed。