treating those at home with some contempt； Effie and the mother
sided with him and put Tom into the shade。 It irritated the
youth that his elder brother should be made something of a hero
by the women； just because he didn't live at home and was a
lace…designer and almost a gentleman。 But Alfred was something
of a Prometheus Bound； so the women loved him。 Tom came later to
understand his brother better。
As youngest son； Tom felt some importance when the care of
the farm devolved on to him。 He was only eighteen； but he was
quite capable of doing everything his father had done。 And of
course； his mother remained as centre to the house。
The young man grew up very fresh and alert； with zest for
every moment of life。 He worked and rode and drove to market； he
went out with panions and got tipsy occasionally and played
skittles and went to the little travelling theatres。 Once； when
he was drunk at a public house； he went upstairs with a
prostitute who seduced him。 He was then nineteen。
The thing was something of a shock to him。 In the close
intimacy of the farm kitchen； the woman occupied the supreme
position。 The men deferred to her in the house； on all household
points； on all points of morality and behaviour。 The woman was
the symbol for that further life which prised religion and
love and morality。 The men placed in her hands their own
conscience； they said to her 〃Be my conscience…keeper； be the
angel at the doorway guarding my outgoing and my ining。〃 And
the woman fulfilled her trust； the men rested implicitly in her；
receiving her praise or her blame with pleasure or with anger；
rebelling and storming； but never for a moment really escaping
in their own souls from her prerogative。 They depended on her
for their stability。 Without her； they would have felt like
straws in the wind； to be blown hither and thither at random。
She was the anchor and the security； she was the restraining
hand of God； at times highly to be execrated。
Now when Tom Brangwen； at nineteen； a youth fresh like a
plant； rooted in his mother and his sister； found that he had
lain with a prostitute woman in a mon public house； he was
very much startled。 For him there was until that time only one
kind of woman……his mother and sister。
But now？ He did not know what to feel。 There was a slight
wonder； a pang of anger； of disappointment； a first taste of ash
and of cold fear lest this was all that would happen； lest his
relations with woman were going to be no more than this
nothingness； there was a slight sense of shame before the
prostitute； fear that she would despise him for his
inefficiency； there was a cold distaste for her； and a fear of
her； there was a moment of paralyzed horror when he felt he
might have taken a disease from her； and upon all this startled
tumult of emotion； was laid the steadying hand of mon sense；
which said it did not matter very much； so long as he had no
disease。 He soon recovered balance； and really it did not matter
so very much。
But it had shocked him； and put a mistrust into his heart；
and emphasized his fear of what was within himself。 He was；
however； in a few days going about again in his own careless；
happy…go…lucky fashion； his blue eyes just as clear and honest
as ever； his face just as fresh； his appetite just as keen。
Or apparently so。 He had； in fact； lost some of his buoyant
confidence； and doubt hindered his outgoing。
For some time after this； he ore conscious when
he drank； more backward from panionship。 The disillusion of
his first carnal contact with woman； strengthened by his innate
desire to find in a woman the embodiment of all his
inarticulate； powerful religious impulses； put a bit in his
mouth。 He had something to lose which he was afraid of losing；
which he was not sure even of possessing。 This first affair did
not matter much： but the business of love was； at the bottom of
his soul； the most serious and terrifying of all to him。
He was tormented now with sex desire； his imagination
reverted always to lustful scenes。 But what really prevented his
returning to a loose woman； over and above the natural
squeamishness； was the recollection of the paucity of the last
experience。 It had been so nothing； so dribbling and functional；
that he was ashamed to expose himself to the risk of a
repetition of it。
He made a strong； instinctive fight to retain his native
cheerfulness unimpaired。 He had naturally a plentiful stream of
life and humour； a sense of sufficiency and exuberance； giving
ease。 But now it tended to cause tension。 A strained light came
into his eyes； he had a slight knitting of the brows。 His
boisterous humour gave place to lowering silences； and days
passed by in a sort of suspense。
He did not know there was any difference in him； exactly； for
the most part he was filled with slow anger and resentment。 But
he knew he was always thinking of women； or a woman； day in； day
out； and that infuriated him。 He could not get free： and he was
ashamed。 He had one or two sweethearts； starting with them in
the hope of speedy development。 But when he had a nice girl； he
found that he was incapable of pushing the desired development。
The very presence of the girl beside him made it impossible。 He
could not think of her like that； he could not think of her
actual nakedness。 She was a girl and he liked her； and dreaded
violently even the thought of uncovering her。 He knew that； in
these last issues of nakedness； he did not exist to her nor she
to him。 Again； if he had a loose girl； and things began to
develop； she offended him so deeply all the time； that he never
knew whether he was going to get away from her as quickly as
possible； or whether he were going to take her out of inflamed
necessity。 Again he learnt his lesson： if he took her it was a
paucity which he was forced to despise。 He did not despise
himself nor the girl。 But he despised the net result in him of
the experience……he despised it deeply and bitterly。
Then； when he was twenty…three； his mother died； and he was
left at home with Effie。 His mother's death was another blow out
of the dark。 He could not understand it； he knew it was no good
his trying。 One had to submit to these unforeseen blows that
e unawares and leave a bruise that remains and hurts whenever
it is touched。 He began to be afraid of all that which was up
against him。 He had loved his mother。
After this； Effie and he quarrelled fiercely。 They meant a
very great deal to each other； but they were both under a
strange； unnatural tension。 He stayed out of the house as much
as possible。 He got a special corner for himself at the 〃Red
Lion〃 at Cossethay； and became a usual figure by the fire； a
fresh； fair young fellow with heavy limbs and head held back；
mostly silent； though alert and attentive； very hearty in his
greeting of everybody he knew； shy of strangers。 He teased all
the women； who liked him extremely； and he was very attentive to
the talk of the men； very respectful。
To drink made him quickly flush very red in the face； and
brought out the look of self…consciousness and unsureness；
almost bewilderment； in his blue eyes。 When he came home in this
state of tipsy confusion his sister hated him and abused him；
and he went off his head； like a mad bull with rage。
He had still another turn with a light…o'…love。 One
Whitsuntide he went a jaunt with two other young fellows； on
horseback； to Matlock and thence to Bakewell。 Matlock was at
that time just being a famous beauty…spot； visited from
Manchester and from the Staffordshire towns。 In the hotel where
the young men took lunch； were two girls； and the parties struck
up a friendship。
The Miss who made up to Tom Brangwen； then twenty…four years
old； was a handsome； reckless girl neglected for an afternoon by
the man who had brought her out。 She saw Brangwen and liked him；
as all women did； for his warmth and his generous nature； and
for the innate delicacy in him。 But she saw he was one who would
have to be brought to the scratch。 However； she was roused and
unsatisfied and made mischievous； so she dared anything。 It
would be an easy interlude； restoring her pride。
She was a handsome girl with a bosom； and dark hair and blue
eyes； a girl full of easy laughter； flushed from the sun；
inclined to wipe her laughing face in a very natural and taking
manner。
Brangwen was in a state of wonder。 He treated her with his
chaffing deference； roused； but very unsure of himself； afraid
to death of being too forward； ashamed lest he might be thought
backward； mad with desire yet restrained by instinctive regard
for women from making any definite approach； feeling all the
while that his attitude was ridiculous； and flushing deep with
confusion。 She； however； became hard and daring as he became
confused； it amused her to see him e on。
〃When must you get back？〃 she asked。
〃I'm not particular；〃 he said。
There the conversation again broke down。
Brangwen's panions were ready to go on。
〃Art min'； Tom；〃 they called； 〃or art for stoppin'？〃
〃Ay； I'm min'；〃 he replied； rising reluctantly； an angry
sense of futility and disappointment spreading over him。
He met the full； almos