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Breadalby was a Georgian house with Corinthian pillars, standing among the softer, greener hills of Derbyshire, not far from Cromford. In front, it looked over a lawn, over a few trees, down to a string of fish-ponds in the hollow of the silent park. At the back were trees, among which were to be found the stables, and the big kitchen garden, behind which was a wood.
Her father was mostly absent, abroad, she was either alone in the house, with her visitors, of whom there were always several, or she had with her her brother, a bachelor, and a Liberal member of Parliament. He always came down when the House was not sitting, seemed always to be present in Breadalby, although he was most conscientious in his attendance to duty.
She was stimulated above all things by this conflict with him, when he was like a sulky boy, helpless, and she had him safe at Breadalby. But underneath she knew the split was coming, and her hatred of him was subconscious and intense. 'What were you doing? she reiterated, in her mild, indifferent tone. He did not answer, and she made her way, almost unconsciously into his room.
So at the station, he wrote saying: I will go on to town I don't want to come back to Breadalby for the present. But it is quite all right I don't want you to mind having biffed me, in the least. Tell the others it is just one of my moods. You were quite right, to biff me because I know you wanted to. So there's the end of it. In the train, however, he felt ill.
'But it is so UNNECESSARY so vulgar, cried Ursula. 'No, I don't see it. And if I did pour moi, elle n'existe pas. I don't grant her the power to be impudent to me. 'Do you think she likes you? asked Ursula. 'Well, no, I shouldn't think she did. 'Then why does she ask you to go to Breadalby and stay with her? Gudrun lifted her shoulders in a low shrug.
A horrible despair, and at the same time a sense of release, liberation, came over Hermione. She turned with a pleasant intimacy to Ursula. 'You are sure you will come to Breadalby? she said, urging. 'Yes, I should like to very much, replied Ursula. Hermione looked down at her, gratified, reflecting, and strangely absent, as if possessed, as if not quite there.
'Your sister has come home? she said. 'Yes, said Ursula. 'And does she like being back in Beldover? 'No, said Ursula. 'No, I wonder she can bear it. It takes all my strength, to bear the ugliness of this district, when I stay here. Won't you come and see me? Won't you come with your sister to stay at Breadalby for a few days? do 'Thank you very much, said Ursula.
He was thinking how lovely, how sure, how formed, how final all the things of the past were the lovely accomplished past this house, so still and golden, the park slumbering its centuries of peace. And then, what a snare and a delusion, this beauty of static things what a horrible, dead prison Breadalby really was, what an intolerable confinement, the peace!
'Yes, one could have lovely Watteau picnics here, cried Ursula with enthusiasm. His face darkened. 'I don't want Watteau picnics here, he said. 'Only your Virginie, she laughed. 'Virginie enough, he smiled wryly. 'No, I don't want her either. Ursula looked at him closely. She had not seen him since Breadalby. He was very thin and hollow, with a ghastly look in his face.
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