Wardlaw’s Contemporary Nutrition

Gordon M. Wardlaw
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 Page i

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 Page ii

WARDLAW’S CONTEMPORARY NUTRITION, ELEVENTH EDITION

Published by McGraw-Hill Education, 2 Penn Plaza, New York, NY 10121. Copyright © 2019 by McGraw-Hill
Education. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. Previous editions © 2016, 2013, and 2011. No
part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or
retrieval system, without the prior written consent of McGraw-Hill Education, including, but not limited to, in any
network or other electronic storage or transmission, or broadcast for distance learning.
Some ancillaries, including electronic and print components, may not be available to customers outside the United
States.
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 LMN 21 20 19 18
ISBN 978-1-259-70996-8
MHID 1-259-70996-5
Senior Portfolio Manager: Marija Magner
Product Developer: Darlene Schueller
Marketing Manager: Valerie L. Kramer
Content Project Managers: Mary Jane Lampe/Samantha Donisi-Hamm
Buyer: Susan K. Culbertson
Designer: Tara McDermott
Content Licensing Specialist: Melissa Homer
Cover Image Credit Source: © Mary-Jon Ludy, Bowling Green State University, Garden of Hope Images
Compositor: SPi Global
All credits appearing on page or at the end of the book are considered to be an extension of the copyright page.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Wardlaw, Gordon M., author. | Smith, Anne M., 1955- author. | Collene,
Angela L., author. | Spees, Colleen K., author.
Title: Wardlaw’s contemporary nutrition / Anne M. Smith, Angela L. Collene,
Colleen K. Spees.
Other titles: Contemporary nutrition
Description: Eleventh edition. | New York, NY : McGraw-Hill Education, [2019]
| Includes bibliographical references.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017022100 | ISBN 9781259709968 (alk. paper)
Subjects: LCSH: Nutrition—Textbooks.
Classification: LCC QP141 .W378 2019 | DDC 612.3—dc23 LC record available at
https://lccn.loc.gov/2017022100

The Internet addresses listed in the text were accurate at the time of publication. The inclusion of a website does not
indicate an endorsement by the authors or McGraw-Hill Education, and McGraw-Hill Education does not guarantee

4
the accuracy of the information presented at these sites.

mheducation.com/highered

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 Page iii

Brief Contents
Part One Nutrition: A Key to Health
1 Nutrition, Food Choices, and Health 3
2 Designing a Healthy Eating Pattern 37
3 The Human Body: A Nutrition Perspective 79

Part Two Energy Nutrients and Energy Balance

4 Carbohydrates 123
5 Lipids 161
6 Proteins 203
7 Energy Balance and Weight Control 237

Part Three Vitamins, Minerals, and Water

8 Vitamins 283
9 Water and Minerals 347

Part Four Nutrition: Beyond the Nutrients

10 Nutrition: Fitness and Sports 411
11 Eating Disorders 449
12 Global Nutrition 481
13 Protecting Our Food Supply 513

Part Five Nutrition: A Focus on Life Stages

14 Nutrition During Pregnancy and Breastfeeding 557
15 Nutrition from Infancy Through Adolescence 599
16 Nutrition During Adulthood 643

6
 About the Cover
The Garden of Hope is a community garden for cancer survivors located at the Waterman Farm at The Ohio State
University. Dr. Colleen Spees, co-author of Wardlaw’s Contemporary Nutrition, leads research efforts at this unique
living laboratory that provides cancer survivors and food-insecure families the opportunity to incorporate a Farm-to-
Fork approach while harvesting fruits, vegetables, and herbs throughout the growing season.
Tomatoes, like those pictured on the front cover, are considered a “functional food” because they provide health
benefits beyond the essential nutrients they contain. Vitamin C and lycopene, a phytochemical in tomatoes, function as
powerful antioxidants. Lycopene has also been linked to a reduced risk of stroke, some eye diseases, and certain types of
cancer. Tomatoes are also abundant sources of potassium, a mineral often lacking in the American diet. A dietary
pattern rich in potassium and low in sodium can lower blood pressure and reduce the risk of heart disease. Nutrients
and phytochemicals in tomatoes may also boost the immune system and protect bone health.
The eleventh edition of Wardlaw’s Contemporary Nutrition shows how a primarily plant-based eating pattern—rich
in nutrients and phytochemicals—works to support and maintain optimal health throughout life. The new Farm to
Fork feature in each chapter outlines the best ways to grow, shop, store, and prepare specific fruits and vegetables to
optimize their nutritional value. This comprehensive and evidence-based perspective on nutrition makes learning fun,
engaging, and relevant.

©Briana Zabala

The authors, Anne Smith, Colleen Spees, and Angela Collene at the Garden of Hope.

Page iv

Dear Students,
Welcome to the fascinating world of nutrition! Because we all eat several times a day
and the choices we make can have a dramatic influence on health, nutrition is our
favorite area of science. At the same time, though, the science of nutrition can seem a bit
confusing. One reason for all the confusion is that it seems like “good nutrition” is a

7
moving target; different authorities have different ideas of how we should eat, and
nutrition recommendations sometimes change! Do carbohydrates cause weight gain? Do
I need to limit saturated fat? Should we eat foods that contain gluten? Second, there are
so many choices. Did you know that the average supermarket carries about 40,000 food
and beverage products? The manufacturers of all those products are vying for your
attention, but typically, the most aggressively marketed items are not the healthiest.
How can you identify a healthy product? Third, as a nation, we eat many of our meals
and snacks away from home. When we eat foods someone else has prepared for us, we
surrender control over what is in our food, where the food came from, and how much of
it goes on our plates. Undoubtedly, you are interested in what you should be eating and
how the food you eat affects you.
Wardlaw’s Contemporary Nutrition is designed to accurately convey changing and
seemingly conflicting messages to all kinds of students. Our students commonly have
misconceptions about nutrition, and many have a limited background in biology or
chemistry. We teach complex scientific concepts at a level that will enable you to apply
the material to your own life.
This marks the eleventh edition of Wardlaw’s Contemporary Nutrition. We are very
excited to introduce you to our newest author, Dr. Colleen Spees! Like our other authors,
she is a Registered Dietitian Nutritionist, which means she will help you to translate
nutrition science into practical advice. At The Ohio State University, Dr. Spees is a
valued expert on cancer, nutritional genomics, and food security. We are thrilled to add
her unique perspective and contemporary ideas.
As in previous editions, we have written this book to help you make informed choices
about the food you eat. We will take you through explanations of the nutrients in food
and their relationship to health and make you aware of the multitude of other factors
that drive food choices. To guide you, we refer to many reputable research studies, books,
policies, and websites throughout the book. With this information at your fingertips, you
will be well equipped to make your own informed choices about what and how much to
eat. There is much to learn, so let’s get started!
Anne Smith
Angela Collene

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 Colleen Spees

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 Page v

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 Page vi

About the Authors

Monty Soungpradith;
©Open Image Studio

ANNE M. SMITH, PhD, RDN, LD, is an associate professor emeritus at The Ohio State
University. She was the recipient of the Outstanding Teacher Award from the College of
Human Ecology, the Outstanding Dietetic Educator Award from the Ohio Dietetic
Association, the Outstanding Faculty Member Award from the Department of Human
Nutrition, and the Distinguished Service Award from the College of Education and
Human Ecology for her commitment to undergraduate education in nutrition. Dr. Smith’s
research in the area of vitamin and mineral metabolism has appeared in prominent
nutrition journals, and she was awarded the Research Award from the Ohio Agricultural
Research and Development Center. She is a member of the American Society for Nutrition
and the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics.

12
©Tim Klontz, Klontz Photography

ANGELA L. COLLENE, MS, RDN, LD, began her career at her alma mater, The Ohio
State University, as a research dietitian for studies related to diabetes and aging. Other
professional experiences include community nutrition lecturing and counseling, owner of a
personal chef business, and many diverse and rewarding science writing and editing
projects. Her interests include novel approaches to glycemic control, weight management,
and—quite predictably for the mother of three little girls—maternal and child nutrition.
Mrs. Collene currently teaches nutrition at The Ohio State University and Ohio Northern
University. She is a member of the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics.

©RALPHOTOSTUDIO

COLLEEN K. SPEES, PhD, MEd, RDN, LD, FAND, is an academic instructor and
researcher at The Ohio State University College of Medicine. She earned her Doctorate in
Health Sciences at Ohio State with a research focus on Nutritional Genomics and Cancer

13
and her Master’s degree in Exercise Science and Health Promotion from Vanderbilt
University. Her primary focus of teaching and research involves interventions aimed at
providing optimal nutrition for vulnerable populations (http://go.osu.edu/hope). In
addition to teaching nutrition at The Ohio State University, Dr. Spees also developed and
teaches a graduate level Nutritional Genomics course. She is the recipient of several
national awards from the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics, including the Distinguished
Practice Award; Award for Excellence in Oncology Nutrition Research; Outstanding
Dietetic Educator Award; Nutrition Informatics Video Challenge Teaching Award; Top
Innovator in Education Teaching Award; and has been a Content Expert and Reviewer for
the Academy’s Nutritional Genomics & Food Security Position Papers. Dr. Spees is also a
recognized Fellow of the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics.

14
 Page vii

Acknowledgments
It is because of the tireless efforts of a cohesive team of talented professionals that we can
bring you the eleventh edition of Wardlaw’s Contemporary Nutrition. We consider ourselves
massively blessed to work with the top-notch staff at McGraw-Hill Education. We are
grateful to Marija Magner, Sr. Portfolio Manager, for her strategic leadership and vast
knowledge of the higher education market. We thank our award-winning Product
Developer, Darlene Schueller, who coordinated the editorial team with her keen eye for
detail, strong work ethic, and organizational expertise. We are grateful to our Content
Project Manager, Mary Jane Lampe, and her staff for the careful coordination of the
numerous production efforts needed to create the very appealing and accurate eleventh
edition. We thank Samantha Donisi-Hamm, our Assessment Content Project Manager, for
her efforts and assistance. We appreciate the meticulous work of our copyeditor, Marilynn
Taylor; proofreaders, Kay J. Brimeyer and Debbie Trilk; and our Content Licensing
Specialist, Melissa Homer. We thank our Designer, Tara McDermott, who ensured that
every aspect of our work is visually appealing—not just on the printed page but also in a
variety of digital formats. Finally, we are indebted to our colleagues, friends, and families
for their constant encouragement, honest feedback, and shared passion for the science of
nutrition.

Reviewers

In the preparation of each edition, we have been guided by the collective wisdom of
reviewers who are excellent teachers. They represent experience in community colleges,
liberal arts colleges, institutions, and universities. We have followed their
recommendations, while remaining true to our overriding goal of writing a readable,
student-centered text.
Roseann Berg
Foothill College
Shawn Bjerke
Minnesota State Community and Technical College
Priscilla Burrow
University of Colorado, Denver
Iveta D. Dinbergs
Middlesex Community College
Virginia B. Gray
California State University Long Beach

15
Julie Kennel
The Ohio State University
Carol Mack
Erie Community College/North
Sudeep Majumdar
Temple College
Dana Scheunemann
Milwaukee Area Technical College
Shannon Seal
Front Range Community College
James Stevens
Front Range Community College
Dana Wu Wassmer
Cosumnes River College

Student-Informed Reviews

We are very pleased to have been able to incorporate real student data points and input,
derived from thousands of our SmartBook® users, to help guide our revision. SmartBook
heat maps provided a quick visual snapshot of usage of portions of the text and the relative
difficulty students experienced in mastering the content. With these data, we were able to
hone not only our text content but also the SmartBook probes.

With the eleventh edition of Wardlaw’s Contemporary Nutrition we remember its founding author,
Gordon M. Wardlaw. Dr. Wardlaw had a passion for the science of nutrition and the research that
supports it and demonstrated an exceptional ability to translate scientific principles into practical
knowledge. This skill is what made his book truly “contemporary.” He was tireless when it came to
staying current and relevant to a changing world. It has been a privilege for all of us to join Dr. Wardlaw
as coauthors of this textbook. For Anne Smith, he was an extraordinary colleague, mentor, and friend.
Angela Collene was blessed to have been one of his graduate students at The Ohio State University,
when she first began to assist with revisions to his books. Colleen Spees was a student in Dr. Wardlaw’s
first nutrition class at The Ohio State University and now holds his previous tenure-track position. Like
so many other students, colleagues, and friends, we remember Dr. Wardlaw as a source of vast
knowledge, good humor, and inspiration. The best way we know to honor our dear friend and mentor is
to carry on his legacy of outstanding textbooks in introductory nutrition. Wardlaw’s Contemporary
Nutrition will continue to evolve and reflect current trends and breakthroughs in nutrition science, but
Dr. Wardlaw’s fingerprints will remain on every page.

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 Page viii

McGraw-Hill Connect® is a highly

reliable, easy-to-use homework and
learning management solution that
utilizes learning science and award-
winning adaptive tools to improve
student results.

Homework and Adaptive Learning

Connect’s assignments help students contextualize what they’ve learned through application, so they
can better understand the material and think critically.

Connect will create a personalized study path customized to individual student needs through

SmartBook®.

SmartBook helps students study more efficiently by delivering an interactive reading experience
through adaptive highlighting and review.

Over 7 billion questions have been answered, making

McGraw-Hill Education products more intelligent, reliable,
and precise.

17
 Quality Content and Learning Resources

Connect content is authored by the world’s best subject matter experts, and is available to your class
through a simple and intuitive interface.

The Connect eBook makes it easy for students to access their reading material on smartphones and
tablets. They can study on the go and don’t need internet access to use the eBook as a reference, with
full functionality.

Multimedia content such as videos, simulations, and games drive student engagement and critical
thinking skills.

73% of instructors who use Connect require it; instructor

satisfaction increases by 28% when Connect is required.

18
© McGraw-Hill Education

Page ix

Robust Analytics and Reporting

Connect Insight® generates easy-to-read reports on individual students, the class as a whole, and on
specific assignments.

The Connect Insight dashboard delivers data on performance, study behavior, and effort. Instructors
can quickly identify students who struggle and focus on material that the class has yet to master.

Connect automatically grades assignments and quizzes, providing easy-to-read reports on individual
and class performance.

19
© Hero Images/Getty Images

20
 More students earn As and Bs when they use Connect.

Trusted Service and Support

Connect integrates with your LMS to provide single sign-on and automatic syncing of grades.
Integration with Blackboard®, D2L®, and Canvas also provides automatic syncing of the course
calendar and assignment-level linking.

Connect offers comprehensive service, support, and training throughout every phase of your
implementation.

If you’re looking for some guidance on how to use Connect, or want to learn tips and tricks from
super users, you can find tutorials as you work. Our Digital Faculty Consultants and Student
Ambassadors offer insight into how to achieve the results you want with Connect.

www.mheducation.com/connect

Page x

Connecting Teaching and Learning

Dietary Analysis Auto-Graded Assignments Within Connect
One of the challenges many instructors face with teaching nutrition classes is having the
time to grade dietary analysis projects. To help overcome that challenge, auto-graded
assignments that require students to use NutritionCalc Plus (NCP) and answer questions
based on the generated reports have been developed. These assignments were developed
and reviewed by faculty who use such assignments in their own teaching. They are designed
to be relevant, current, and interesting!

“The case studies provide a neutral way for my students to explore dietary analysis.
My students are engaged by the case study assignments and find them easy to use. The
fact that they are auto-graded gives me more time to focus on content development and
instruction for my course.
I appreciate how flexible the case study assignments are. I can use the case and the
diet plan, and then only assign those questions that best match my learning outcomes. I
can also add my own questions to the assignments.”

21
 Hannah Thornton, Texas State University

©Victoria Shibut/123RF

NutritionCalc Plus is a powerful dietary analysis tool featuring more than 30,000 foods
from the ESHA Research nutrient database, which is comprised of data from the latest
USDA Standard Reference database, manufacturer's data, restaurant data, and data from
literature sources. NutritionCalc Plus allows users to track food and activities, and then
analyze their choices with a robust selection of intuitive reports. The interface was updated
to accommodate ADA requirements and modern mobile experience native to today's
students.

McGraw-Hill Create™ is a self-service website that allows you to create customized course
materials using McGraw-Hill Education’s comprehensive, cross-disciplinary content and
digital products.

Fueled by LearnSmart—the most widely used and intelligent adaptive learning resource
—LearnSmart® Prep for Nutrition is designed to get students ready for a forthcoming

22
course by quickly and effectively addressing prerequisite knowledge gaps that may cause
problems down the road.

McGraw-Hill Campus® is a groundbreaking service that puts world-class digital learning

resources just a click away for all your faculty and students. All your faculty—whether or
not they use a McGraw-Hill Education title—can instantly browse, search, and access the
entire library of McGraw-Hill Education instructional resources and services including
eBooks, test banks, PowerPoint slides, animations, and learning objects—from any
Learning Management System (LMS), at no additional cost to your institution. Users also
have single sign-on access to McGraw-Hill Education digital platforms, including Connect,
ALEKS®, Create, and Tegrity.

Tegrity® is a fully automated lecture capture solution used in traditional, hybrid, “flipped
classes,” and online courses to record lessons, lectures, and skills.

Page xi

Connecting Students to Today’s

Nutrition
Understanding Our Audience
We have written Wardlaw’s Contemporary Nutrition assuming that our students have a
limited background in college-level biology, chemistry, or physiology. We have been careful
to include the essential science foundation needed to adequately comprehend certain topics
in nutrition, such as protein synthesis in Chapter 6. The science in this text has been
presented in a simple, straightforward manner so that undergraduate students can master
the material and apply it to their own lives. The Concept Maps and detailed, annotated
figures bring complex topics into view for students from any major.

23
Featuring the Latest Guidelines and Research
Nutrition is a dynamic field. A vast quantity of research constantly reshapes our knowledge
of nutritional science. The eleventh edition has been carefully updated to reflect current
scientific understanding, as well as the latest health and nutrition guidelines. For everyday
diet planning, students will learn about the Dietary Guidelines for Americans, MyPlate, and
Healthy People 2020. In discussions about specific nutrition concerns, the most recent data
and recommendations from the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics, American Heart
Association, American Diabetes Association, National Academy of Medicine, and American
Psychological Association have been included in this edition.

Newsworthy Nutrition, a feature in each chapter, highlights the use of the scientific method
in recently published research studies that relate to the chapter topics. In addition,
assignable questions in Connect take learning a step further by asking students to read
primary literature and apply what they have learned.

Newsworthy Nutrition
Probiotics provide relief from constipation

Inadequate intake of vitamin B-12 is rarely responsible for deficiency, but it can
occur. Vegan diets supply little vitamin B-12 unless they include vitamin B-12–
enriched food (e.g., soy milk) or supplements. Infants breastfed by vegetarian
mothers are at risk for vitamin B-12 deficiency accompanied by anemia and long-
term nervous system problems, such as diminished brain growth, degeneration of
the spinal cord, and poor intellectual development. The problems may have their
origins during pregnancy if the mother is deficient in vitamin B-12. Certainly,
achieving an adequate vitamin B-12 intake is a key goal for vegans.

24
Ask the RDN is a new feature in every chapter that answers questions about topics that may
seem to have conflicting viewpoints. This feature will highlight the ability of the RDN to
translate the latest scientific findings into easy-to-understand nutrition information.

ASK THE RDN: Who’s the Expert?

Dear RDN: I am interested in making positive changes to my eating pattern to reach a healthy weight and feel
better. How can I find a qualified nutrition expert who will give me personalized nutrition advice?

You have already made a big step toward better nutrition by taking this nutrition course! The
information in this textbook is written by authors who are all qualified nutrition experts, namely registered
dietitian nutritionists (RDN). The textbook and your instructor will provide a solid foundation in
nutrition, but be aware that some people call themselves “nutritionists” without qualified training in
nutrition. The best approach to finding answers about your personal nutritional state is to consult your
primary care provider, registered dietitian (RD), or registered dietitian nutritionist (RDN). The
RD/RDN has been certified by the Commission on Dietetic Registration of the Academy of Nutrition
and Dietetics (AND) after completing rigorous classroom and clinical training in nutrition. The
RD/RDN must also complete continuing education. The RD credential was recently updated to RDN to
better reflect the scope of practice of dietitians. While both titles signify the same credential, we will use
RDN when referring to dietitians in this book.
You can begin your search for a local RDN by asking your primary care provider or calling your health
insurance company for a referral. You can also find an RDN by using the AND national referral service,
called Find a Registered Dietitian Nutritionist. This service links consumers with qualified nutrition
practitioners who provide reliable, objective nutrition information. Visit the website, www.eatright.org,
and click on “Find an Expert.” (In Canada, visit the Dietitians of Canada website, www.dietitians.ca, and
click on “Find a Dietitian.”) Enter your ZIP code or state to display the providers in your area. Select
additional specialties that may apply to your specific needs. The website will display a list of providers. A
professional with the RD or RDN credential after his or her name is a qualified nutrition expert who is
trained to help you separate facts from fads and optimize your health with better food choices. You can
trust an RDN to translate the latest scientific findings into easy-to-understand nutrition information.
I hope this answer was helpful. We will use this feature, “Ask the RDN,” in every chapter to answer
questions about topics that may seem to have conflicting viewpoints.

Your nutrition expert,

Anne M. Smith , PhD, RDN, LD (author)

The Medicine Cabinet feature presents information on common medications used to treat
diseases that have a nutrition connection. These features highlight the ways medications
can affect nutritional status, as well as ways food and nutrients can affect how medications
work.

25
 Medicine Cabinet

Some medications may limit vitamin B-12 absorption. Antacids or other medications used to inhibit acid
secretions will increase the pH within the stomach, thereby limiting release of B-12 from protein. People
who have ulcers or reflux may take these drugs. Metformin, a popular medication for controlling diabetes,
may reduce B-12 absorption. With any of these medications, you should check with your primary care
provider to see if supplemental B-12 is recommended.

©Peter Dazeley/Photographer’s Choice/Getty Images

Page xii

Connecting with a Personal Focus

Valuing Our Food Supply
In this edition, we introduce a new Farm to Fork feature. Each chapter spotlights a food
item and traces its path to our plates. Where does it grow? How do you select the most
flavorful and nutritious foods? What are the best ways to store and prepare foods to
maximize nutritional value?

Applying Nutrition on a Personal Level

Throughout the eleventh edition, we reinforce the fact that each person responds
differently to nutrients. To further convey the importance of applying nutrition to their
personal lives, we include many examples of people and situations that resonate with college
students. We also stress the importance of learning to intelligently sort through the
seemingly endless range of nutrition messages to recognize reliable information and to
sensibly apply it to their own lives. Our goal is to provide students the tools they need to
eat healthfully and make informed nutrition decisions after they complete the class. Many
of these features can be assigned and graded through Connect to help students learn and
apply the information and engage with the text.

26
Challenging Students to Think Critically
The pages of Wardlaw’s Contemporary Nutrition contain numerous opportunities for
students to learn more about themselves and their diet and to use their new knowledge of
nutrition to improve their health. These pedagogical elements include Critical Thinking,
Ask the RDN, Case Studies, Nutrition and Your Health, What Would You Choose?, and
Newsworthy Nutrition. Many of the thought-provoking topics highlighted in these features
are expanded upon in the online resources found in Connect.

27
 Page xiii

Connecting to Engaging Visuals

Attractive, Accurate Artwork
Illustrations, photographs, infographics, and tables in the text were created to help students
master complex scientific concepts.
Many illustrations were updated or replaced to inspire student inquiry and
comprehension and to promote interest and retention of information. Several were also
redesigned to use brighter colors and a more attractive, contemporary style.
In many figures, color-coding and directional arrows make it easier to follow events and
reinforce interrelationships. Process descriptions appear in the body of the figures. This
pairing of the action and an explanation walks students step-by-step through the process
and increases teaching effectiveness.

The final result is a striking visual program that holds readers’ attention and supports
the goals of clarity, ease of comprehension, and critical thinking. The attractive layout and
design of this edition are clean, bright, and inviting. This creative presentation of the
material is geared toward engaging today’s visually oriented students.

28
FIGURE 6-6 ▲ Food sources of protein.(a) The fill of the background color (none, 1/3, 2/3, or
completely covered) within each group on MyPlate indicates the average nutrient density for protein in
that group. (b) The bar graph shows the protein content of several foods from each food group compared
to the RDA for a 70-kilogram male. Overall, the dairy group and the protein group contain many foods
that are nutrient-dense sources of protein. The fruits group provides little or no protein (less than 1
gram per serving). Food choices from the vegetables group and grains group provide moderate amounts
of protein (2 to 3 grams per serving). The dairy group provides much protein (8 to 10 grams per serving),

29
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 Laura spent a happy afternoon choosing presents at the village shop. For
Henry she bought a bottle of ginger wine, a pair of leather gaiters, and some
highly recommended tincture of sassafras for his winter cough. For
Caroline she bought an extensive parcel—all the shop had, in fact—of
variously coloured rug-wools, and a pound’s worth of assorted stamps. For
Sibyl she bought some tinned fruits, some sugar-biscuits, and a pink knitted
bed-jacket. For Fancy and Marion respectively she bought a Swanee flute
and a box with Ely Cathedral on the lid, containing string, which Mrs.
Trumpet was very glad to see the last of, as it had been forced upon her by a
traveller, and had not hit the taste of the village. To her great-nephew and
great-nieces she sent postal orders for one guinea, and pink gauze stockings
filled with tin toys. These she knew would please, for she had always
wanted one herself. For Dunlop she bought a useful button-hook.
Acquaintances and minor relations were greeted with picture postcards,
either photographs of the local War Memorial Hall and Institute, or a
coloured view of some sweet-peas with the motto: ‘Kind Thoughts from
Great Mop.’ A postcard of the latter kind was also enclosed with each of the
presents.
Titus was rather more difficult to suit. But by good luck she noticed two
heavy glass jars such as old-fashioned druggists use. These were not
amongst Mrs. Trumpet’s wares—she kept linen buttons in the one and horn
buttons in the other; but she was anxious to oblige such a magnificent
customer and quite ready to sell her anything that she wanted. She was
about to empty out the buttons when Laura stopped her. ‘You must keep
some for your customers, Mrs. Trumpet. They may want to put them in
their Christmas puddings.’ Laura was losing her head a little with the
excitement. ‘But I should like to send about three dozen of each sort, if you
can spare them. Buttons are always useful.’
‘Yes, miss. Shall I put in some linen thread too?’
Mrs. Trumpet was a stout, obliging woman. She promised to do up all
the parcels in thick brown paper and send them off three days before
Christmas. As Laura stepped out of the shop in triumph, she exclaimed:
‘Well, that’s done it!’
For the life of her she could not have said in what sense the words were
intended. She was divided between admiration for her useful and well-
chosen gifts and delight in affronting a kind of good taste which she
believed to be merely self-esteem.
Although she had chosen presents with such care for her relations, Laura
was surprised when counter presents arrived from them. She had not
thought of them as remembering her. Their presents were all of a warm
nature; they insisted upon that bleakness and draughtiness which their
senders had foretold. When Caroline wrote to thank Laura, she said:
‘I have started to make you a nice warm coverlet out of those pretty
wools you sent. I think it will look very cheerful and variegated. I often feel
quite worried to think of you upon those wind-swept hills. And from all I
hear you have a great many woods round you, and I’m afraid all the
decaying leaves must make the place damp.’
Heaping coals of fire was a religious occupation. Laura rather admired
Caroline for the neat turn of the wrist with which she heaped these.
In spite of the general determination of her family that she should feel
the cold Laura lived at Great Mop very comfortably. Mrs. Leak was an
excellent cook; she attended to her lodger civilly and kindly enough, made
no comments, and showed no curiosity. At times Laura felt as though she
had exchanged one Caroline for another. Mrs. Leak was not, apparently, a
religious woman. There were no texts on her walls, and when Laura asked
for the loan of a Bible Mrs. Leak took a little time to produce it, and blew
on the cover before she handed it over. But like Caroline, she gave the
impression that her kingdom was not of this world. Laura liked her, and
would have been glad to be upon less distant terms with her, but she did not
find it easy to break through Mrs. Leak’s reserve. She tried this subject and
that, but Mrs. Leak did not begin to thaw until Laura said something about
black-currant tea. It seemed that Mrs. Leak shared Laura’s liking for
distillations. That evening she remarked that the table-beer was of her own
brewing, and lingered a while with the folded cloth in her hand to explain
the recipe. After that Laura was given every evening a glass of home-made
wine: dandelion, cowslip, elderberry, ashkey, or mangold. By her
appreciation and her inquiries she entrapped Mrs. Leak into pausing longer
and longer before she carried away the supper-tray. Before January was out
it had become an established thing that after placing the bedroom
candlestick on the cleared table Mrs. Leak would sit down and talk for half
an hour or so.
 There was an indoor pleasantness about these times. Through the wall
came the sound of Mr. Leak snoring in the kitchen. The two women sat by
the fire, tilting their glasses and drinking in small peaceful sips. The
lamplight shone upon the tidy room and the polished table, lighting topaz in
the dandelion wine, spilling pools of crimson through the flanks of the
bottle of plum gin. It shone on the contented drinkers, and threw their large,
close-at-hand shadows upon the wall. When Mrs. Leak smoothed her apron
the shadow solemnified the gesture as though she were moulding an
universe. Laura’s nose and chin were defined as sharply as the peaks on a
holly leaf.
Mrs. Leak did most of the talking. She talked well. She knew a great
deal about everybody, and she was not content to quit a character until she
had brought it to life for her listener.
Mrs. Leak’s favourite subject was the Misses Larpent, Miss Minnie and
Miss Jane. Miss Minnie was seventy-three, Miss Jane four years younger.
Neither of them had known a day’s illness, nor any bodily infirmity, nor any
relenting of their faculties. They would live for many years yet, if only to
thwart their debauched middle-aged nephew, the heir to the estate. Perhaps
Miss Willowes had seen Lazzard Court on one of her walks? Yes, Laura had
seen it, looking down from a hill-top—the park where sheep were penned
among the grouped chestnut trees, the long white house with its
expressionless façade—and had heard the stable-clock striking a deserted
noon.
The drive of Lazzard Court was five miles long from end to end. The
house had fourteen principal bedrooms and a suite for Royalty. Mrs. Leak
had been in service at Lazzard Court before her marriage; she knew the
house inside and out, and described it to Laura till Laura felt that there was
not one of the fourteen principal bedrooms which she did not know. The
blue room, the yellow room, the Chinese room, the buff room, the balcony
room, the needle-work room—she had slept in them all. Nay, she had
awakened in the Royal bed, and pulling aside the red damask curtains had
looked to the window to see the sun shining upon the tulip tree.
No visitors slept in the stately bedrooms now, Lazzard Court was very
quiet. People in the villages, said Mrs. Leak coldly, called Miss Minnie and
Miss Jane two old screws. Mrs. Leak knew better. The old ladies spent
lordily upon their pleasures, and economised elsewhere that they might be
able to do so. When they invited the Bishop to lunch and gave him stewed
rabbit, blackberry pudding, and the best peaches and Madeira that his
Lordship was likely to taste in his life, he fared no worse and no better than
they fared themselves. Lazzard Court was famous for its racing-stable. To
the upkeep of this all meaner luxuries were sacrificed—suitable bonnets,
suitable subscriptions, bedroom fires, salmon and cucumber. But the stable-
yard was like the forecourt of a temple. Every morning after breakfast Miss
Jane would go round the stables and feel the horses’ legs, her gnarled old
hand with its diamond rings slipping over the satin coat.
Nothing escaped the sisters. The dairy, the laundry, the glass-houses, the
poultry-yard, all were scrutinised. If any servant were found lacking he or
she was called before Miss Minnie in the Justice Room. Mrs. Leak had
never suffered such an interview, but she had seen others come away, white-
faced, or weeping with apron thrown over head. Even the coffins were
made on the estate. Each sister had chosen her elm and had watched it
felled, with sharp words for the woodman when he aimed amiss.
When Mrs. Leak had given the last touches to Miss Minnie and Miss
Jane, she made Laura’s flesh creep with the story of the doctor who took the
new house up on the hill. He had been a famous doctor in London, but
when he came to Great Mop no one would have anything to do with him. It
was said he came as an interloper, watching for old Dr. Halley to die that he
might step into his shoes. He grew more and more morose in his lonely
house, soon the villagers said he drank; at last came the morning when he
and his wife were found dead. He had shot her and then himself, so it
appeared, and the verdict at the inquest was of Insanity. The chief witnesses
were another London doctor, a great man for the brain, who had advised his
friend to lead a peaceful country life; and the maidservant, who had heard
ranting talk and cries late one evening, and ran out of the house in terror,
banging the door behind her, to spend the night with her mother in the
village.
After the doctor, Mrs. Leak called up Mr. Jones the clergyman. Laura
had seen his white beard browsing among the tombs. He looked like a
blessed goat tethered on hallowed grass. He lived alone with his books of
Latin and Hebrew and his tame owl which he tried to persuade to sleep in
his bedroom. He had dismissed red-haired Emily, the sexton’s niece, for
pouring hot water on a mouse. Emily had heated the water with the kindest
intentions, but she was dismissed nevertheless. Mrs. Leak made much of
this incident, for it was Mr. Jones’s only act of authority. In all other
administrations he was guided by Mr. Gurdon, the clerk.
Mr. Gurdon’s beard was red and curly (Laura knew him by sight also).
Fiery down covered his cheeks, his eyes were small and truculent, and he
lived in a small surprised cottage near the church. Every morning he walked
forth to the Rectory to issue his orders for the day—this old woman was to
be visited with soup, that young one with wrath; and more manure should
be ordered for the Rectory cabbages. For Mr. Gurdon was Mr. Jones’s
gardener, as well as his clerk.
Mr. Gurdon had even usurped the clergyman’s perquisite of quarrelling
with the organist. Henry Perry was the organist. He had lost one leg and
three fingers in a bus accident, so there was scarcely any other profession
he could have taken up. And he had always been fond of playing tunes, for
his mother, who was a superior widow, had a piano at Rose Cottage.
Mr. Gurdon said that Henry Perry encouraged the choir boys to laugh at
him. After church he used to hide behind a yew tree to pounce out upon any
choir boys who desecrated the graves by leaping over them. When he
caught them he pinched them. Pinches are silent: they can be made use of in
sacred places where smacking would be irreverent. One summer Mr.
Gurdon told Mr. Jones to forbid the choir treat. Three days later some of the
boys were playing with a tricycle. They allowed it to get out of control, and
it began to run downhill. At the bottom of the hill was a sharp turn in the
road, and Mr. Gurdon’s cottage. The tricycle came faster and faster and
crashed through the fence into Mr. Gurdon, who was attending to his
lettuces and had his back turned. The boys giggled and ran away. Their
mothers did not take the affair so lightly. That evening Mr. Gurdon received
a large seed-cake, two dozen fresh eggs, a packet of cigarettes, and other
appeasing gifts. Next Sunday Mr. Jones in his kind tenor voice announced
that a member of the congregation wished to return thanks for mercies
lately received. Mr. Gurdon turned round in his place and glared at the choir
boys.
Much as he disliked Henry Perry, Mr. Gurdon had disliked the doctor
from London even more. The doctor had come upon him frightening an old
woman in a field, and had called him a damned bully and a hypocrite. Mr.
Gurdon had cursed him back, and swore to be even with him. The old
woman bore her defender no better will. She talked in a surly way about her
aunt, who was a gipsy and able to afflict people with lice by just looking at
them.
Laura did not hear this story from Mrs. Leak. It was told her some time
after by Mrs. Trumpet. Mrs. Trumpet hated Mr. Gurdon, though she was
very civil to him when he came into the shop. Few people in the village
liked Mr. Gurdon, but he commanded a great deal of politeness. Red and
burly and to be feared, the clerk reminded Laura of a red bull belonging to
the farmer. In one respect he was unlike the bull: Mr. Gurdon was a very
respectable man.
Mrs. Leak also told Laura about Mr. and Mrs. Ward, who kept the Lamb
and Flag; about Miss Carloe the dressmaker, who fed a pet hedgehog on
bread-and-milk; and about fat Mrs. Garland, who let lodgings in the
summer and was always so down at heel and jolly.
Although she knew so much about her neighbours, Mrs. Leak was not a
sociable woman. The Misses Larpent, the dead doctor, Mr. Jones, Mr.
Gurdon, and Miss Carloe—she called them up and caused them to pass
before Laura, but in a dispassionate way, rather like the Witch of Endor
calling up old Samuel. Nor was Great Mop a sociable village, at any rate
compared with the villages which Laura had known as a girl. Never had she
seen so little dropping in, leaning over fences, dawdling at the shop or in
the churchyard. Little laughter came from the taproom of the Lamb and
Flag. Once or twice she glanced in at the window as she passed by and saw
the men within sitting silent and abstracted with their mugs before them.
Even the bell-ringers when they had finished their practice broke up with
scant adieus, and went silently on their way. She had never met country
people like these before. Nor had she ever known a village that kept such
late hours. Lights were burning in the cottages till one and two in the
morning, and she had been awakened at later hours than those by the sound
of passing voices. She could hear quite distinctly, for her window was open
and faced upon the village street. She heard Miss Carloe say complainingly:
‘It’s all very well for you young ones. But my old bones ache so, it’s a
wonder how I get home!’ Then she heard the voice of red-haired Emily say:
‘No bones so nimble as old bones, Miss Carloe, when it comes to—’ and
then a voice unknown to Laura said ‘Hush’; and she heard no more, for a
cock crew. Another night, some time after this, she heard some one playing
a mouth-organ. The music came from far off, it sounded almost as if it were
being played out of doors. She lit a candle and looked at her watch—it was
half-past three. She got out of bed and listened at the window; it was a dark
night, and the hills rose up like a screen. The noise of the mouth-organ
came wavering and veering on the wind. A drunk man, perhaps? Yet what
drunk man would play on so steadily? She lay awake for an hour or more,
half puzzled, half lulled by the strange music, that never stopped, that never
varied, that seemed to have become part of the air.
Next day she asked Mrs. Leak what this strange music could be. Mrs.
Leak said that young Billy Thomas was distracted with toothache. He could
not sleep, and played for hours nightly upon his mouth-organ to divert
himself from the pain. On Wednesday the tooth-drawer would come to
Barleighs, and young Billy Thomas would be put out of his agony. Laura
was sorry for the sufferer, but she admired the circumstances. The highest
flights of her imagination had not risen to more than a benighted drunk.
Young Billy Thomas had a finer invention than she.
After a few months she left off speculating about the villagers. She
admitted that there was something about them which she could not fathom,
but she was content to remain outside the secret, whatever it was. She had
not come to Great Mop to concern herself with the hearts of men. Let her
stray up the valleys, and rest in the leafless woods that looked so warm with
their core of fallen red leaves, and find out her own secret, if she had one;
with autumn it might come back to question her. She wondered. She
thought not. She felt that nothing could ever again disturb her peace.
Wherever she strayed the hills folded themselves round her like the fingers
of a hand.
About this time she did an odd thing. In her wanderings she had found a
disused well. It was sunk at the side of a green lane, and grass and bushes
had grown up around its low rim, almost to conceal it; the wooden frame
was broken and mouldered, ropes and pulleys had long ago been taken
away, and the water was sunk far down, only distinguishable as an
uncertain reflection of the sky. Here, one evening, she brought her guide-
book and her map. Pushing aside the bushes she sat down upon the low rim
of the well. It was a still, mild evening towards the end of February, the
birds were singing, there was a smell of growth in the air, the light lingered
in the fields as though it were glad to linger. Looking into the well she
watched the reflected sky grow dimmer; and when she raised her eyes the
gathering darkness of the landscape surprised her. The time had come. She
took the guide-book and the map and threw them in.
 She heard the disturbed water sidling against the walls of the well. She
scarcely knew what she had done, but she knew that she had done rightly,
whether it was that she had sacrificed to the place, or had cast herself upon
its mercies—content henceforth to know no more of it than did its own
children.
As she reached the village she saw a group of women standing by the
milestone. They were silent and abstracted as usual. When she greeted them
they returned her greeting, but they said nothing among themselves. After
she had gone by they turned as of one accord and began to walk up the field
path towards the wood. They were going to gather fuel, she supposed. To-
night their demeanour did not strike her as odd. She felt at one with them,
an inhabitant like themselves, and she would gladly have gone with them up
towards the wood. If they were different from other people, why shouldn’t
they be? They saw little of the world. Great Mop stood by itself at the head
of the valley, five miles from the main road, and cut off by the hills from the
other villages. It had a name for being different from other places. The man
who had driven Laura home from The Reason Why had said: ‘It’s not often
that a wagonette is seen at Great Mop. It’s an out-of-the-way place, if ever
there was one. There’s not such another village in Buckinghamshire for out-
of-the-way-ness. Well may it be called Great Mop, for there’s never a Little
Mop that I’ve heard of.’
People so secluded as the inhabitants of Great Mop would naturally be
rather silent, and keep themselves close. So Laura thought, and Mr. Saunter
was of the same opinion.
Mr. Saunter’s words had weight, for he spoke seldom. He was a serious,
brown young man, who after the war had refused to go back to his bank in
Birmingham. He lived in a wooden hut which he had put up with his own
hands, and kept a poultry-farm.
Laura first met Mr. Saunter when she was out walking, early one
darkish, wet, January morning. The lane was muddy; she picked her way,
her eyes to the ground. She did not notice Mr. Saunter until she was quite
close to him. He was standing bareheaded in the rain. His look was sad and
gentle, it reflected the mood of the weather, and several dead white hens
dangled from his hands. Laura exclaimed, softly, apologetically. This young
man was so perfectly of a piece with his surroundings that she felt herself to
be an intruder. She was about to turn back when his glance moved slowly
towards her. ‘Badger,’ he said; and smiled in an explanatory fashion. Laura
knew at once that he had been careless and had left the henhouse door
unfastened. She took pains that no shade of blame should mix itself with
her condolences. She did not even blame the badger. She knew that this was
a moment for nothing but kind words, and not too many of them.
Mr. Saunter was grateful. He invited her to come and see his birds. Side
by side they turned in silence through a field gate and walked into Mr.
Saunter’s field. Bright birds were on the sodden grass. As he went by they
hurried into their pens, expecting to be fed. ‘If you would care to come in,’
said Mr. Saunter, ‘I should like to make you a cup of tea.’
Mr. Saunters living-room was very untidy and homelike. A basket of
stockings lay on the table. Laura wondered if she might offer to help Mr.
Saunter with his mending. But after he had made the tea, he took up a
stocking and began to darn it. He darned much better than she did.
As she went home again she fell to wondering what animal Mr. Saunter
resembled. But in the end she decided that he resembled no animal except
man. Till now, Laura had rejected the saying that man is the noblest work of
nature. Half an hour with Mr. Saunter showed her that the saying was true.
So had Adam been the noblest work of nature, when he walked out among
the beasts, sole overseer of the garden, intact, with all his ribs about him,
his equilibrium as yet untroubled by Eve. She had misunderstood the saying
merely because she had not happened to meet a man before. Perhaps, like
other noble works, man is rare. Perhaps there is only one of him at a time:
first Adam; now Mr. Saunter. If that were the case, she was lucky to have
met him. This also was the result of coming to Great Mop.
So much did Mr. Saunter remind Laura of Adam that he made her feel
like Eve—for she was petitioned by an unladylike curiosity. She asked Mrs.
Leak about him. Mrs. Leak could tell her nothing that was not already
known to her, except that young Billy Thomas went up there every day on
his bicycle to lend Mr. Saunter a hand. Laura would not stoop to question
young Billy Thomas. She fought against her curiosity, and the spring came
to her aid.
This new year was changing her whole conception of spring. She had
thought of it as a denial of winter, a green spear that thrust through a
tyrant’s rusty armour. Now she saw it as something filial, gently unlacing
the helm of the old warrior and comforting his rough cheek. In February
came a spell of fine weather. She spent whole days sitting in the woods,
where the wood-pigeons moaned for pleasure on the boughs. Sometimes
two cock birds would tumble together in mid air, shrieking, and buffeting
with their wings, and then would fly back to the quivering boughs and nurse
the air into peace again. All round her the sap was rising up. She laid her
cheek against a tree and shut her eyes to listen. She expected to hear the tree
drumming like a telegraph pole.
It was so warm in the woods that she forgot that she sat there for shelter.
But though the wind blew lightly, it blew from the east. In March the wind
went round to the south-west. It brought rain. The bright, cold fields were
dimmed and warm to walk in now. Like embers the wet beech-leaves
smouldered in the woods.
All one day the wind had risen, and late in the evening it called her out.
She went up to the top of Cubbey Ridge, past the ruined windmill that
clattered with its torn sails. When she had come to the top of the Ridge she
stopped, with difficulty holding herself upright. She felt the wind swoop
down close to the earth. The moon was out hunting overhead, her pack of
black and white hounds ranged over the sky. Moon and wind and clouds
hunted an invisible quarry. The wind routed through the woods. Laura from
the hill-top heard the various surrounding woods cry out with different
voices. The spent gusts left the beech-hangers throbbing like sea caverns
through which the wave had passed, the fir plantation seemed to chant some
never-ending rune.
Listening to these voices, another voice came to her ear—the far-off
pulsation of a goods train labouring up a steep cutting. It was scarcely
audible, more perceptible as feeling than as sound, but by its regularity it
dominated all the other voices. It seemed to come nearer and nearer, to
inform her like the drumming of blood in her ears. She began to feel
defenceless, exposed to the possibility of an overwhelming terror. She
listened intently, trying not to think. Though the noise came from an
ordinary goods train, no amount of reasoning could stave off this terror. She
must yield herself, yield up all her attention, if she would escape. It was a
wicked sound. It expressed something eternally outcast and reprobated by
man, stealthily trafficking by night, unseen in the dark clefts of the hills.
Loud, separate, and abrupt, each pant of the engine trampled down her wits.
The wind and the moon and the ranging cloud pack were not the only
hunters abroad that night: something else was hunting among the hills,
hunting slowly, deliberately, sure of its quarry.
Suddenly she remembered the goods yard at Paddington, and all her
thoughts slid together again like a pack of hounds that have picked up the
scent. They streamed faster and faster; she clenched her hands and prayed
as when a child she had prayed in the hunting-field.
In the goods yard at Paddington she had almost pounced on the clue, the
clue to the secret country of her mind. The country was desolate and half-
lit, and she walked there alone, mistress of it, and mistress, too, of the terror
that roamed over the blank fields and haunted round her. Here was country
just so desolate and half-lit. She was alone, just as in her dreams, and the
terror had come to keep her company, and crouched by her side, half in
fawning, half in readiness to pounce. All this because of a goods train that
laboured up a cutting. What was this cabal of darkness, suborning her own
imagination to plot against her? What were these iron hunters doing near
mournful, ever-weeping Paddington?
‘Now! Now!’ said the moon, and plunged towards her through the
clouds.
Baffled, she stared back at the moon and shook her head. For a moment
it had seemed as though the clue were found, but it had slid through her
hands again. The train had reached the top of the cutting, with a shriek of
delight it began to pour itself downhill. She smiled. It amused her to
suppose it loaded with cabbages. Arrived at Paddington, the cabbages
would be diverted to Covent Garden. But inevitably, and with all the
augustness of due course, they would reach their bourne at Apsley Terrace.
They would shed all their midnight devilry in the pot, and be served up to
Henry and Caroline very pure and vegetable.
‘Lovely! lovely!’ she said, and began to descend the hill, for the night
was cold. Though her secret had eluded her again, she did not mind. She
knew that this time she had come nearer to catching it than ever before. If it
were attainable she would run it to earth here, sooner or later. Great Mop
was the likeliest place to find it.
The village was in darkness; it had gone to bed early, as good villages
should. Only Miss Carloe’s window was alight. Kind Miss Carloe, she
would sit up till all hours tempting her hedgehog with bread-and-milk.
Hedgehogs are nocturnal animals; they go out for walks at night, grunting,
and shoving out their black snouts. ‘Thrice the brindled cat hath mewed;
Thrice, and once the hedgepig whined. Harper cries, “ ’Tis time, ’tis
time.” ’ She found the key under the half-brick, and let herself in very
quietly. Only sleep sat up for her, waiting in the hushed house. Sleep took
her by the hand, and convoyed her up the narrow stairs. She fell asleep
almost as her head touched the pillow.
By the next day all this seemed very ordinary. She had gone out on a
windy night and heard a goods train. There was nothing remarkable in that.
It would have been a considerable adventure in London, but it was nothing
in the Chilterns. Yet she retained an odd feeling of respect for what had
happened, as though it had laid some command upon her that waited to be
interpreted and obeyed. She thought it over, and tried to make sense of it. If
it pointed to anything, it pointed to Paddington. She did what she could; she
wrote and invited Caroline to spend a day at Great Mop. She did not
suppose that this was the right interpretation, but she could think of no
other.
All the birds were singing as Laura went down the lane to meet
Caroline’s car. It was almost like summer, nothing could be more fortunate.
Caroline was dressed in sensible tweeds. ‘It was raining when I left
London,’ she said, and glanced severely at Laura’s cotton gown.
‘Was it?’ said Laura. ‘It hasn’t rained here.’ She stopped. She looked
carefully at the blue sky. There was not a cloud to be seen. ‘Perhaps it will
rain later on,’ she added. Caroline also looked at the sky, and said:
‘Probably.’
Conversation was a little difficult, for Laura did not know how much she
was still in disgrace. She asked after everybody in a rather guilty voice, and
heard how emphatically they all throve, and what a pleasant, cheerful
winter they had all spent. After that came the distance from Wickendon and
the hour of departure. In planning the conduct of the day, Laura had decided
to keep the church for after lunch. Before lunch she would show Caroline
the view. She had vaguely allotted an hour and a half to the view, but it took
scarcely twenty minutes. At least, that was the time it took walking up to
the windmill and down again. The view had taken no time at all. It was a
very clear day, and everything that could be seen was perceptible at the first
glance.
 Caroline was so stoutly equipped for country walking that Laura had not
the heart to drag her up another hill. They visited the church instead. The
church was more successful. Caroline sank on her knees and prayed. This
gave Laura an opportunity to look round, for she had not been inside the
church before. It was extremely narrow, and had windows upon the south
side only, so that it looked like a holy corridor. Caroline prayed for some
time, and Laura made the most of it. Presently she was able to lead Caroline
down the corridor, murmuring: ‘That window was presented in 1901. There
is rather a nice brass in this corner. That bit of carving is old, it is the Wise
and the Foolish Virgins. Take care of the step.’
One foolish Virgin pleased Laura as being particularly lifelike. She stood
a little apart from the group, holding a flask close to her ear, and shaking it.
During lunch Laura felt that her stock of oil, too, was running very low. But
it was providentially renewed, for soon after lunch a perfect stranger fell off
a bicycle just outside Mrs. Leak’s door and sprained her ankle. Laura and
Caroline leapt up to succour her, and then there was a great deal of cold
compress and hot tea and animation. The perfect stranger was a Secretary to
a Guild. She asked Caroline if she did not think Great Mop a delightful
nook, and Caroline cordially agreed. They went on discovering Committees
in common till tea-time, and soon after went off together in Caroline’s car.
Just as Caroline stepped into the car she asked Laura if she had met any
nice people in the neighbourhood.
‘No. There aren’t any nice people,’ said Laura. Wondering if the bicycle
would stay like that, twined so casually round the driver’s neck, she had
released her attention one minute too soon.
As far as she knew this was her only slip throughout the day. It was a
pity. But Caroline would soon forget it; she might not even have heard it,
for the Secretary was talking loudly about Homes of Rest at the same
moment. Still, it was a pity. She might have remembered Mr. Saunter,
though perhaps she could not have explained him satisfactorily in the time.
She turned and walked slowly through the fields towards the poultry-
farm. She could not settle down to complete solitude so soon after
Caroline’s departure. She would decline gradually, using Mr. Saunter as an
intermediate step. He was feeding his poultry, going from pen to pen with a
zinc wheelbarrow and a large wooden spoon. The birds flew round him; he
had continually to stop and fend them off like a swarm of large midges.
Sometimes he would grasp a specially bothering bird and throw it back into
the pen as though it were a ball. She leant on the gate and watched him.
This young man who had been a bank-clerk and a soldier walked with the
easy, slow strides of a born countryman; he seemed to possess the earth
with each step. No doubt but he was like Adam. And she, watching him
from above—for the field sloped down from the gate to the pens—was like
God. Did God, after casting out the rebel angels and before settling down to
the peace of a heaven unpeopled of contradiction, use Adam as an
intermediate step?
On his way back to the hut Mr. Saunter noticed Laura. He came up and
leant on his side of the gate. Though the sun had gone down, the air was
still warm, and a disembodied daylight seemed to weigh upon the landscape
like a weight of sleep. The birds which had sung all day now sang louder
then ever.
‘Hasn’t it been a glorious day?’ said Mr. Saunter.
‘I have had my sister-in-law down,’ Laura answered. ‘She lives in
London.’
‘My people,’ said Mr. Saunter, ‘all live in the Midlands.’
‘Or in Australia,’ he added after a pause.
Mr. Saunter, seen from above, walking among his flocks and herds—for
even hens seemed ennobled into something Biblical by their relation to him
—was an impressive figure. Mr. Saunter leaning on the gate was a pleasant,
unaffected young man enough, but no more. Quitting him, Laura soon
forgot him as completely as she had forgotten Caroline. Caroline was a
tedious bluebottle; Mr. Saunter a gentle, furry brown moth; but she could
brush off one as easily as the other.
Laura even forgot that she had invited the moth to settle again; to come
to tea. It was only by chance that she had stayed indoors that afternoon,
making currant scones. To amuse herself she had cut the dough into
likenesses of the village people. Curious developments took place in the
baking. Miss Carloe’s hedgehog had swelled until it was almost as large as
its mistress. The dough had run into it, leaving a great hole in Miss Carloe’s
side. Mr. Jones had a lump on his back, as though he were carrying the
Black Dog in a bag; and a fancy portrait of Miss Larpent in her elegant
youth and a tight-fitting sweeping amazon had warped and twisted until it
was more like a gnarled thorn tree than a woman.
 Laura felt slightly ashamed of her freak. It was unkind to play these
tricks with her neighbours’ bodies. But Mr. Saunter ate the strange shapes
without comment, quietly splitting open the villagers and buttering them.
He told her that he would soon lose the services of young Billy Thomas,
who was going to Lazzard Court as a footman.
‘I shouldn’t think young Billy Thomas would make much of a footman,’
said Laura.
‘I don’t know,’ he answered consideringly. ‘He’s very good at standing
still.’
Laura had brought her sensitive conscience into the country with her,
just as she had brought her umbrella, though so far she had not remembered
to use either. Now the conscience gave signs of life. Mr. Saunter was so
nice, and had eaten up those derisive scones, innocently under the
impression that they had been prepared for him; he had come with his gift
of eggs, all kindness and forethought while she had forgotten his existence;
and now he was getting up to go, thanking her and afraid that he had stayed
too long. She had acted unworthily by this young man, so dignified and
unassuming; she must do something to repair the slight she had put upon
him in her own mind. She offered herself as a substitute for young Billy
Thomas until Mr. Saunter could find some one else.
‘I don’t know anything about hens,’ she admitted. ‘But I am fond of
animals, and I am very obedient.’
It was agreed that she might go on the following day to help him with
the trap-nesting, and see how she liked it.
At first Mr. Saunter would not allow her to do more than walk round
with him upon planks specially put down to save her from the muddy
places, pencil the eggs, and drink tea afterwards. But she came so
punctually and showed such eagerness that as time went on she persuaded
him into allowing her a considerable share in the work.
There was much to do, for it was a busy time of year. The incubators had
fulfilled their time; Laura learnt how to lift out the newly-hatched chicks,
damp, almost lifeless from their birth-throes, and pack them into baskets. A
few hours after the chicks were plump and fluffy. They looked like bunches
of primroses in the moss-lined baskets.
Besides mothering his chicks Mr. Saunter was busy with a great re-
housing of the older birds. This was carried out after sundown, for the birds
were sleepy then, and easier to deal with. If moved by day they soon
revolted, and went back to their old pens. Even as it was there were always
a few sticklers, roosting uncomfortably among the newcomers, or standing
disconsolately before their old homes, closed against them.
Laura liked this evening round best of all. The April twilights were
marvellously young and still. A slender moon soared in the green sky; the
thick spring grass was heavy with dew, and the earth darkened about her
feet while overhead it still seemed quite light. Mr. Saunter would disappear
into the henhouse, a protesting squawking and scuffling would be heard;
then he would emerge with hens under either arm. He showed Laura how to
carry them, two at a time, their breasts in her hands, their wings held fast
between her arm and her side. She would tickle the warm breasts, warm and
surprisingly bony with quills under the soft plumage, and make soothing
noises.
At first she felt nervous with the strange burden, so meek and inanimate
one moment, so shrewish the next, struggling and beating with strong freed
wings. However many birds Mr. Saunter might be carrying, he was always
able to relieve her of hers. Immediately the termagant would subside, tamed
by the large sure grasp, meek as a dove, with rigid dangling legs, and head
turning sadly from side to side.
Laura never became as clever with the birds as Mr. Saunter. But when
she had overcome her nervousness she managed them well enough to give
herself a great deal of pleasure. They nestled against her, held fast in the
crook of her arm, while her fingers probed among the soft feathers and rigid
quills of their breasts. She liked to feel their acquiescence, their dependence
upon her. She felt wise and potent. She remembered the henwife in the
fairy-tales, she understood now why kings and queens resorted to the
henwife in their difficulties. The henwife held their destinies in the crook of
her arm, and hatched the future in her apron. She was sister to the spaewife,
and close cousin to the witch, but she practised her art under cover of
henwifery; she was not, like her sister and her cousin, a professional. She
lived unassumingly at the bottom of the king’s garden, wearing a large
white apron and very possibly her husband’s cloth cap; and when she saw
the king and queen coming down the gravel path she curtseyed
reverentially, and pretended it was the eggs they had come about. She was
easier of approach than the spaewife, who sat on a creepie and stared at the
smouldering peats till her eyes were red and unseeing; or the witch, who
lived alone in the wood, her cottage window all grown over with brambles.
But though she kept up this pretence of homeliness she was not inferior in
skill to the professionals. Even the pretence of homeliness was not quite so
homely as it might seem. Laura knew that the Russian witches live in small
huts mounted upon three giant hen’s legs, all yellow and scaly. The legs can
go; when the witch desires to move her dwelling the legs stalk through the
forest, clattering against the trees, and printing long scars upon the snow.
Following Mr. Saunter up and down between the pens, Laura almost
forgot where and who she was, so completely had she merged her
personality into the henwife’s. She walked back along the rutted track and
down the steep lane as obliviously as though she were flitting home on a
broomstick. All through April she helped Mr. Saunter. They were both sorry
when a new boy applied for the job and her duties came to an end. She
knew no more of Mr. Saunter at the close of this association than she had
known at its beginning. It could scarcely be said even that she liked him any
better, for from their first meeting she had liked him extremely. Time had
assured the liking, and that was all. So well assured was it, that she felt
perfectly free to wander away and forget him once more, certain of finding
him as likeable and well liked as before whenever she might choose to
return.
During her first months at Great Mop the moods of the winter landscape
and the renewing of spring had taken such hold of her imagination that she
thought no season could be more various and lovely. She had even written a
slightly precious letter to Titus—for somehow correspondence with Titus
was always rather attentive—declaring her belief that the cult of the
summer months was a piece of cockney obtuseness, a taste for sweet things,
and a preference for dry grass to strew their egg-shells upon. But with the
first summer days and the first cowslips she learnt better. She had known
that there would be cowslips in May; from the day she first thought of Great
Mop she had promised them to herself. She had meant to find them early
and watch the yellow blossoms unfolding upon the milky green stems. But
they were beforehand with her, or she had watched the wrong fields. When
she walked into the meadow it was bloomed over with cowslips, powdering
the grass in variable plenty, here scattered, there clustered, innumerable as
the stars in the Milky Way.
She knelt down among them and laid her face close to their fragrance.
The weight of all her unhappy years seemed for a moment to weigh her
bosom down to the earth; she trembled, understanding for the first time how
miserable she had been; and in another moment she was released. It was all
gone, it could never be again, and never had been. Tears of thankfulness ran
down her face. With every breath she drew, the scent of the cowslips flowed
in and absolved her.
She was changed, and knew it. She was humbler, and more simple. She
ceased to triumph mentally over her tyrants, and rallied herself no longer
with the consciousness that she had outraged them by coming to live at
Great Mop. The amusement she had drawn from their disapproval was a
slavish remnant, a derisive dance on the north bank of the Ohio. There was
no question of forgiving them. She had not, in any case, a forgiving nature;
and the injury they had done her was not done by them. If she were to start
forgiving she must needs forgive Society, the Law, the Church, the History
of Europe, the Old Testament, great-great-aunt Salome and her prayer-book,
the Bank of England, Prostitution, the Architect of Apsley Terrace, and half
a dozen other useful props of civilisation. All she could do was to go on
forgetting them. But now she was able to forget them without flouting them
by her forgetfulness.
Throughout May and June and the first fortnight of July she lived in
perfect idleness and contentment, growing every day more freckled and
more rooted in peace. On July 17th she was disturbed by a breath from the
world. Titus came down to see her. It was odd to be called Aunt Lolly
again. Titus did not use the term often; he addressed his friends of both
sexes and his relations of all ages as My Dear; but Aunt Lolly slipped out
now and again.
There was no need to show Titus the inside of the church. There was no
need even to take him up to the windmill and show him the view. He did all
that for himself, and got it over before breakfast—for Titus breakfasted for
three mornings at Great Mop. He had come for the day only, but he was too
pleased to go back. He was his own master now, he had rooms in
Bloomsbury and did not need even to send off a telegram. Mrs. Garland
who let lodgings in the summer was able to oblige him with a bedroom, full
of pincushions and earwigs and marine photographs; and Mrs. Trumpet
gave him all the benefit of all the experience he invoked in the choice of a
tooth-brush. For three days he sat about with Laura, and talked of his
intention to begin brewing immediately. He had refused to visit Italy with
his mother—he had rejected several flattering invitations from editors—
because brewing appealed to him more than anything else in the world.
This, he said, was the last night out before the wedding. On his return to
Bloomsbury he intended to let his rooms to an amiable Mahometan, and to
apprentice himself to his family brewery until he had learnt the family
trade.
Laura gave him many messages to Lady Place. It was clear before her in
an early morning light. She could exactly recall the smell of the shrubbery,
her mother flowing across the croquet lawn, her father’s voice as he called
up the dogs. She could see herself, too: her old self, for her present self had
no part in the place. She did not suppose she would ever return there,
although she was glad that Titus was faithful.
Titus departed. He wrote her a letter from Bloomsbury, saying that he
had struck a good bargain with the Mahometan, and was off to Somerset.
Ten days later she heard from Sibyl that he was coming to live at Great
Mop. She had scarcely time to assemble her feelings about this before he
was arrived.
 Part 3

I T was the third week in August. The weather was sultry; day after day
Laura heard the village people telling each other that there was thunder in
the air. Every evening they stood in the village street, looking upwards,
and the cattle stood waiting in the fields. But the storm delayed. It hid
behind the hills, biding its time.
Laura had spent the afternoon in a field, a field of unusual form, for it
was triangular. On two sides it was enclosed by woodland, and because of
this it was already darkening into a premature twilight, as though it were a
room. She had been there for hours. Though it was sultry, she could not sit
still. She walked up and down, turning savagely when she came to the edge
of the field. Her limbs were tired, and she stumbled over the flints and
matted couch grass. Throughout the long afternoon a stock dove had cooed
in the wood. ‘Cool, cool, cool,’ it said, delighting in its green bower. Now it
had ceased, and there was no life in the woods. The sky was covered with a
thick uniform haze. No ray of the declining sun broke through it, but the
whole heavens were beginning to take on a dull, brassy pallor. The long
afternoon was ebbing away, stealthily, impassively, as though it were dying
under an anaesthetic.
Laura had not listened to the stock dove; she had not seen the haze
thickening overhead. She walked up and down in despair and rebellion. She
walked slowly, for she felt the weight of her chains. Once more they had
been fastened upon her. She had worn them for many years, acquiescently,
scarcely feeling their weight. Now she felt it. And, with their weight, she
felt their familiarity, and the familiarity was worst of all. Titus had seen her
starting out. He had cried; ‘Where are you off to, Aunt Lolly? Wait a
minute, and I’ll come too.’ She had feigned not to hear him and had walked
on. She had not turned her head until she was out of the village, she
expected at every moment to hear him come bounding up behind her. Had
he done so, she thought she would have turned round and snarled at him.
For she wanted, oh! how much she wanted, to be left alone for once. Even
when she felt pretty sure that she had escaped she could not profit by her
solitude, for Titus’s voice still jangled on her nerves. ‘Where are you off to,
Aunt Lolly? Wait a minute, and I’ll come too.’ She heard his very tones,