d at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger.

'Now, Mr Birkin,' he said, 'I don't know what you've come here for, and
I don't know what you're asking for. But my daughters are my
daughters--and it's my business to look after them while I can.'

Birkin's brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But
he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause.

'I've nothing against your marrying Ursula,' Brangwen began at length.
'It's got nothing to do with me, she'll do as she likes, me or no me.'

Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his
consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep
it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then
go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was
all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it.

The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his
own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him--well then, he
would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted
or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to
say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete
insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if
fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was
absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and
chance to resolve the issues.

At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a
bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as
usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite THERE, not
quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much.
She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which
excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in
sunshine.

They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on
the table.

'Did you bring me that Girl's Own?' cried Rosalind.

'Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted.'

'You would,' cried Rosalind angrily. 'It's right for a wonder.'

Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone.

'Where?' cried Ursula.

Again her sister's voice was muffled.

Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice:

'Ursula.'

She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat.

'Oh how do you do!' she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if