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-colored 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.