'John,' she said, 'look at this brooch William gave me--a ladder
leaning against the moon and a butterfly climbing up it.
leaning against the moon and a butterfly climbing up it.
Yeats
He must
have been very industrious at school. '
A week went by. He made up his mind to put an end to his London life.
He broke to his mother his resolve to return to Ballah. She was
delighted, and at once began to pack. Her old home had long seemed to
her a kind of lost Eden, wherewith she was accustomed to contrast the
present. When, in time, this present had grown into the past it became
an Eden in turn. She was always ready for a change, if the change came
to her in the form of a return to something old. Others place their
ideals in the future; she laid hers in the past.
The only one this momentous resolution seemed to surprise was the old
and deaf servant. She waited with ever-growing impatience. She would
sit by the hour wool-gathering on the corner of a chair with a look
of bewildered delight. As the hour of departure came near she sang
continually in a cracked voice.
Sherman, a few days before leaving, was returning for the last time
from his office when he saw, to his surprise, Howard and Miss Leland
carrying each a brown-paper bundle. He nodded good-humouredly, meaning
to pass on.
'John,' she said, 'look at this brooch William gave me--a ladder
leaning against the moon and a butterfly climbing up it. Is it not
sweet? We are going to visit the poor. '
'And I,' he said, 'am going to catch eels. I am leaving town. '
He made his excuses, saying he had no time to wait, and hurried off.
She looked after him with a mournful glance, strange in anybody who had
exchanged one lover for another more favoured.
'Poor fellow,' murmured Howard, 'he is broken-hearted. '
'Nonsense,' answered Miss Leland, somewhat snappishly.
FIFTH PART
JOHN SHERMAN RETURNS TO BALLAH
I
This being the homeward trip, SS. _Lavinia_ carried no cattle, but many
passengers. As the sea was smooth and the voyage near its end, they
lounged about the deck in groups. Two cattle-merchants were leaning
over the taffrail smoking. In appearance they were something between
betting-men and commercial travellers. For years they had done all
their sleeping in steamers and trains. A short distance from them a
clerk from Liverpool, with a consumptive cough, walked to and fro, a
little child holding his hand.
have been very industrious at school. '
A week went by. He made up his mind to put an end to his London life.
He broke to his mother his resolve to return to Ballah. She was
delighted, and at once began to pack. Her old home had long seemed to
her a kind of lost Eden, wherewith she was accustomed to contrast the
present. When, in time, this present had grown into the past it became
an Eden in turn. She was always ready for a change, if the change came
to her in the form of a return to something old. Others place their
ideals in the future; she laid hers in the past.
The only one this momentous resolution seemed to surprise was the old
and deaf servant. She waited with ever-growing impatience. She would
sit by the hour wool-gathering on the corner of a chair with a look
of bewildered delight. As the hour of departure came near she sang
continually in a cracked voice.
Sherman, a few days before leaving, was returning for the last time
from his office when he saw, to his surprise, Howard and Miss Leland
carrying each a brown-paper bundle. He nodded good-humouredly, meaning
to pass on.
'John,' she said, 'look at this brooch William gave me--a ladder
leaning against the moon and a butterfly climbing up it. Is it not
sweet? We are going to visit the poor. '
'And I,' he said, 'am going to catch eels. I am leaving town. '
He made his excuses, saying he had no time to wait, and hurried off.
She looked after him with a mournful glance, strange in anybody who had
exchanged one lover for another more favoured.
'Poor fellow,' murmured Howard, 'he is broken-hearted. '
'Nonsense,' answered Miss Leland, somewhat snappishly.
FIFTH PART
JOHN SHERMAN RETURNS TO BALLAH
I
This being the homeward trip, SS. _Lavinia_ carried no cattle, but many
passengers. As the sea was smooth and the voyage near its end, they
lounged about the deck in groups. Two cattle-merchants were leaning
over the taffrail smoking. In appearance they were something between
betting-men and commercial travellers. For years they had done all
their sleeping in steamers and trains. A short distance from them a
clerk from Liverpool, with a consumptive cough, walked to and fro, a
little child holding his hand.
