Carpeting H E SET OFF down the bank, and she went unwillingly with him.Yet she would not have stayed away, either.
`We know each other well, you and I, already,' he said.She did not answer.
In the large darkish kitchen of the mill, the labourer's wife was talking shrilly to Hermione and Gerald, who stood, he in white and she in a glistening bluish foulard, strangely luminous in the dusk of the room; whilst from the cages on the walls, a dozen or more canaries sang at the top of their voices.The cages were all placed round a small square window at the back, where the sunshine came in, a beautiful beam, filtering through green leaves of a tree.The voice of Mrs Salmon shrilled against the noise of the birds, which rose ever more wild and triumphant, and the woman's voice went up and up against them, and the birds replied with wild animation.
`Here's Rupert!' shouted Gerald in the midst of the din.He was suffering badly, being very sensitive in the ear.
`O-o-h them birds, they won't let you speak -- !' shrilled the labourer's wife in disgust.`I'll cover them up.'
And she darted here and there, throwing a duster, an apron, a towel, a table-cloth over the cages of the birds.
`Now will you stop it, and let a body speak for your row,' she said, still in a voice that was too high.
The party watched her.Soon the cages were covered, they had a strange funereal look.But from under the towels odd defiant trills and bubblings still shook out.
`Oh, they won't go on,' said Mrs Salmon reassuringly.`They'll go to sleep now.'
`Really,' said Hermione, politely.
`They will,' said Gerald.`They will go to sleep automatically, now the impression of evening is produced.'
`Are they so easily deceived?' cried Ursula.
`Oh, yes,' replied Gerald.`Don't you know the story of Fabre, who, when he was a boy, put a hen's head under her wing, and she straight away went to sleep? It's quite true.'
`And did that make him a naturalist?' asked Birkin.
`Probably,' said Gerald.
Meanwhile Ursula was peeping under one of the cloths.There sat the canary in a corner, bunched and fluffed up for sleep.
`How ridiculous!' she cried.`It really thinks the night has come! How absurd! Really, how can one have any respect for a creature that is so easily taken in!'
`Yes,' sang Hermione, coming also to look.She put her hand on Ursula's arm and chuckled a low laugh.`Yes, doesn't he look comical?' she chuckled.
`Like a stupid husband.'
Then, with her hand still on Ursula's arm, she drew her away, saying, in her mild sing-song:
`How did you come here? We saw Gudrun too.'
`I came to look at the pond,' said Ursula, `and I found Mr Birkin there.'
`Did you? This is quite a Brangwen land, isn't it!'
`I'm afraid I hoped so,' said Ursula.`I ran here for refuge, when Isaw you down the lake, just putting off.'
`Did you! And now we've run you to earth.'
Hermione's eyelids lifted with an uncanny movement, amused but overwrought.
She had always her strange, rapt look, unnatural and irresponsible.
`I was going on,' said Ursula.`Mr Birkin wanted me to see the rooms.
Isn't it delightful to live here? It is perfect.'
`Yes,' said Hermione, abstractedly.Then she turned right away from Ursula, ceased to know her existence.
`How do you feel, Rupert?' she sang in a new, affectionate tone, to Birkin.
`Very well,' he replied.
`Were you quite comfortable?' The curious, sinister, rapt look was on Hermione's face, she shrugged her bosom in a convulsed movement, and seemed like one half in a trance.
`Quite comfortable,' he replied.
There was a long pause, whilst Hermione looked at him for a long time, from under her heavy, drugged eyelids.
`And you think you'll be happy here?' she said at last.
`I'm sure I shall.'
`I'm sure I shall do anything for him as I can,' said the labourer's wife.`And I'm sure our master will; so I hope he'll find himself comfortable.'
Hermione turned and looked at her slowly.
`Thank you so much,' she said, and then she turned completely away again.
She recovered her position, and lifting her face towards him, and addressing him exclusively, she said:
`Have you measured the rooms?'
`No,' he said, `I've been mending the punt.'
`Shall we do it now?' she said slowly, balanced and dispassionate.
`Have you got a tape measure, Mrs Salmon?' he said, turning to the woman.
`Yes sir, I think I can find one,' replied the woman, bustling immediately to a basket.`This is the only one I've got, if it will do.'
Hermione took it, though it was offered to him.
`Thank you so much,' she said.`It will do very nicely.Thank you so much.' Then she turned to Birkin, saying with a little gay movement: `Shall we do it now, Rupert?'
`What about the others, they'll be bored,' he said reluctantly.
`Do you mind?' said Hermione, turning to Ursula and Gerald vaguely.
`Not in the least,' they replied.
`Which room shall we do first?' she said, turning again to Birkin, with the same gaiety, now she was going to do something with him.
`We'll take them as they come,' he said.
`Should I be getting your teas ready, while you do that?' said the labourer's wife, also gay because she had something to do.
`Would you?' said Hermione, turning to her with the curious motion of intimacy that seemed to envelop the woman, draw her almost to Hermione's breast, and which left the others standing apart.`I should be so glad.
Where shall we have it?'
`Where would you like it? Shall it be in here, or out on the grass?'
`Where shall we have tea?' sang Hermione to the company at large.
`On the bank by the pond.And we'll carry the things up, if you'll just get them ready, Mrs Salmon,' said Birkin.
`All right,' said the pleased woman.
The party moved down the passage into the front room.It was empty, but clean and sunny.There was a window looking on to the tangled front garden.
`This is the dining room,' said Hermione.`We'll measure it this way, Rupert -- you go down there --'
`Can't I do it for you,' said Gerald, coming to take the end of the tape.
