Sisters

Ursula and Gudrun Brangwen sat one morning in the window-bay of their
father's house in Beldover, working and talking. Ursula was stitching a
piece of brightly-coloured embroidery, and Gudrun was drawing upon a
board which she held on her knee. They were mostly silent, talking as
their thoughts strayed through their minds.

'Ursula,' said Gudrun, 'don't you REALLY WANT to get married?' Ursula
laid her embroidery in her lap and looked up. Her face was calm and
considerate.

'I don't know,' she replied. 'It depends how you mean.' Gudrun was slightly taken aback. She watched her sister for some
moments.

'Well,' she said, ironically, 'it usually means one thing! But don't
you think anyhow, you'd be--' she darkened slightly--'in a better
position than you are in now.' A shadow came over Ursula's face.

'I might,' she said. 'But I'm not sure.' Again Gudrun paused, slightly irritated. She wanted to be quite
definite.

'You don't think one needs the EXPERIENCE of having been married?' she
asked.

'Do you think it need BE an experience?' replied Ursula.

'Bound to be, in some way or other,' said Gudrun, coolly. 'Possibly
undesirable, but bound to be an experience of some sort.' 'Not really,' said Ursula. 'More likely to be the end of experience.' Gudrun sat very still, to attend to this.

'Of course,' she said, 'there's THAT to consider.' This brought the
conversation to a close. Gudrun, almost angrily, took up her rubber and
began to rub out part of her drawing. Ursula stitched absorbedly.