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8
Module 1. FICTION
difference – she saw only her own flesh and blood. It was
her world, this family, and she knew no other, had never
perhaps known any other. All their little secrets, illness
es, engagements, and marriages, how they were getting
on, and whether they were making money – all this was
her property, her delight, her life; beyond this only a vague,
shadowy mist of facts and persons of no real significance.
This it was that she would have to lay down when it came
to her turn to die; this which gave to her that importance,
that secret selfimportance, without which none of us can
bear to live and to this she clung wistfully, with a greed
grew each day. If life were slipping away from her, this
she would retain to the end.
She thought of June’s father, young Jolyon, who had
run away with that foreign girl. Ah! What a sad blow to
his father and to them all. Such a promising young fel
low! A sad blow, though there had been no public scandal,
most fortunately. Jo’s wife seeking for no divorce! A long
time ago! And when June’s mother died, six years ago, Jo
had married that woman, and they had two children now,
so she had heard. Still, he had forfeited his right to be
there, had cheated her of the complete fulfillment of her
family pride, deprived her of the rightful pleasure of see
ing and kissing him of whom she had been so proud, such
a promising young fellow! The thought rankled with the
bitterness of longinflicted injury in her tenacious old heart.
A little water stood in her eyes. With a handkerchief of
the finest lawn she wiped them stealthily.
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