News from Nowhere; Or, An Epoch of Rest: Being Some Chapters from a Utopian RomanceMorris, William
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News from Nowhere; Or, An Epoch of Rest: Being Some Chapters from a Utopian Romance
Morris, William
Utopias
Ellen leaned back in the stern and seemed to enjoy herself thoroughly. I
could see that she was really looking at things and let nothing escape
her, and as I watched her, an uncomfortable feeling that she had been a
little touched by love of the deft, ready, and handsome Dick, and that
she had been constrained to follow us because of it, faded out of my
mind; since if it had been so, she surely could not have been so
excitedly pleased, even with the beautiful scenes we were passing
through. For some time she did not say much, but at last, as we had
passed under Shillingford Bridge (new built, but somewhat on its old
lines), she bade me hold the boat while she had a good look at the
landscape through the graceful arch. Then she turned about to me and
said:
"I do not know whether to be sorry or glad that this is the first time
that I have been in these reaches. It is true that it is a great
pleasure to see all this for the first time; but if I had had a year or
two of memory of it, how sweetly it would all have mingled with my life,
waking or dreaming! I am so glad Dick has been pulling slowly, so as to
linger out the time here. How do you feel about your first visit to
these waters?"
I do not suppose she meant a trap for me, but anyhow I fell into it, and
said: "My first visit! It is not my first visit by many a time. I know
these reaches well; indeed, I may say that I know every yard of the
Thames from Hammersmith to Cricklade."
I saw the complications that might follow, as her eyes fixed mine with a
curious look in them, that I had seen before at Runnymede, when I had
said something which made it difficult for others to understand my
present position amongst these people. I reddened, and said, in order to
cover my mistake: "I wonder you have never been up so high as this, since
you live on the Thames, and moreover row so well that it would be no
great labour to you. Let alone," quoth I, insinuatingly, "that anybody
would be glad to row you."
She laughed, clearly not at my compliment (as I am sure she need not have
done, since it was a very commonplace fact), but at something which was
stirring in her mind; and she still looked at me kindly, but with the
above-said keen look in her eyes, and then she said:
"Well, perhaps it is strange, though I have a good deal to do at home,
what with looking after my father, and dealing with two or three young
men who have taken a special liking to me, and all of whom I cannot
please at once. But you, dear neighbour; it seems to me stranger that
you should know the upper river, than that I should not know it; for, as
I understand, you have only been in England a few days. But perhaps you
mean that you have read about it in books, and seen pictures of
it?--though that does not come to much, either."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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