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