82 TO THE LIGHTHOUSEsometimes made differently from other people, bornblind, deaf, and dumb, to the ordinary things, but tothe extraordinary things, with an eye like an eagle’s.His understanding often astonished her. But didhe notice the flowers? No. Did he notice the view?No. Did he even notice his own daughter’s beauty,or whether there was pudding on his plate or roastbeef? He would sit at table with them like a personin a dream. And his habit of talking aloud, or sayingpoetry aloud, was growing on him, she was afraid;for sometimes it was awkward—Best and brightest, come away!poor Miss Giddings, when he shouted that at her,almost jumped out of her skin. But then, MrsRamsay, though instantly taking his side against allthe silly Giddingses in the world, then, she thought,intimating by a little pressure on his arm that hewalked up hill too fast for her, and she must stop fora moment to see whether those were fresh mole-hillson the bank, then, she thought, stooping down tolook, a great mind like his must be different in everyway from ours. All the great men she had everknown, she thought, deciding that a rabbit musthave got in, were like that, and it was good for youngmen (though the atmosphere of lecture-rooms wasstuffy and depressing to her beyond endurancealmost) simply to hear him, simply to look at him.But without shooting rabbits, how was one to keepthem down? she wondered. It might be a rabbit;it might be a mole. Some creature anyhow wasruining her Evening Primroses. And looking up,she saw above the thin trees the first pulse of thefull-throbbing star, and wanted to make her husband
