Going to school by train; she must leave home at a quarter to
eight in the morning; and she did not arrive again till
half…past five at evening。 Of this she was glad; for the house
was small and overful。 It was a storm of movement; whence there
had been no escape。 She hated so much being in charge。
The house was a storm of movement。 The children were healthy
and turbulent; the mother only wanted their animal well…being。
To Ursula; as she grew a little older; it became a nightmare。
When she saw; later; a Rubens picture with storms of naked
babies; and found this was called 〃Fecundity〃; she shuddered;
and the world became abhorrent to her。 She knew as a child what
it was to live amidst storms of babies; in the heat and swelter
of fecundity。 And as a child; she was against her mother;
passionately against her mother; she craved for some
spirituality and stateliness。
In bad weather; home was a bedlam。 Children dashed in and out
of the rain; to the puddles under the dismal yew trees; across
the wet flagstones of the kitchen; whilst the cleaning…woman
grumbled and scolded; children were swarming on the sofa;
children were kicking the piano in the parlour; to make it sound
like a beehive; children were rolling on the hearthrug; legs in
air; pulling a book in two between them; children; fiendish;
ubiquitous; were stealing upstairs to find out where our Ursula
was; whispering at bedroom doors; hanging on the latch; calling
mysteriously; 〃Ursula! Ursula!〃 to the girl who had locked
herself in to read。 And it was hopeless。 The locked door excited
their sense of mystery; she had to open to dispel the lure。
These children hung on to her with round…eyed excited
questions。
The mother flourished amid all this。
〃Better have them noisy than ill;〃 she said。
But the growing girls; in turn; suffered bitterly。 Ursula was
just ing to the stage when Andersen and Grimm were being left
behind for the 〃Idylls of the King〃 and romantic