Page:Sons and Lovers, 1913, Lawrence.djvu/132

120 called, rather crossly. She only laughed. The family expected, after that time of preparation, something like magic. At last she came, looking very nice in a blouse and skirt.

“Have you really been all this time getting ready?” he asked.

“Chubby dear! That question is not permitted, is it, Mrs. Morel?”

She played the grand lady at first. When she went with William to chapel, he in his frock coat and silk hat, she in her furs and London-made costume, Paul and Arthur and Annie expected everybody to bow to the ground in admiration. And Morel, standing in his Sunday suit at the end of the road, watching the gallant pair go, felt he was the father of princes and princesses.

And yet she was not so grand. For a year now she had been a sort of secretary or clerk in a London office. But while she was with the Morels she queened it. She sat and let Annie or Paul wait on her as if they were her servants. She treated Mrs. Morel with a certain glibness and Morel with patronage. But after a day or so she began to change her tune.

William always wanted Paul or Annie to go along with them on their walks. It was so much more interesting. And Paul really did admire “Gipsy” whole-heartedly; in fact, his mother scarcely forgave the boy for the adulation with which he treated the girl.

On the second day, when Lily said, “Oh, Annie, do you know where I left my muff?” William replied:

“You know it is in your bedroom. Why do you ask Annie?”

And Lily went upstairs with a cross, shut mouth. But it angered the young man that she made a servant of his sister.

On the third evening William and Lily were sitting together in the parlour by the fire in the dark. At a quarter to eleven Mrs. Morel was heard raking the fire. William came out to the kitchen, followed by his beloved.

“Is it as late as that, mother?” he said. She had been sitting alone.

“It is not late, my boy, but it is as late as I usually sit up.”

“Won’t you go to bed, then?” he asked.

“And leave you two? No, my boy, I don’t believe in it.”

“Can’t you trust us, mother?”

“Whether I can or not, I won’t do it. You can stay till eleven if you like, and I can read.”