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like that. They were always a haughty family, standoffish in
a way, as they’ve a right to be. But then to be brought down
like that! And it’s very hard on Lady Chatterley, perhaps
harder on her. What she misses! I only had Ted three years,
but my word, while I had him I had a husband I could nev-
er forget. He was one in a thousand, and jolly as the day.
Who’d ever have thought he’d get killed? I don’t believe it
to this day somehow, I’ve never believed it, though I washed
him with my own hands. But he was never dead for me, he
never was. I never took it in.’
This was a new voice in Wragby, very new for Connie to
hear; it roused a new ear in her.
For the first week or so, Mrs Bolton, however, was very
quiet at Wragby, her assured, bossy manner left her, and she
was nervous. With Clifford she was shy, almost frightened,
and silent. He liked that, and soon recovered his self-pos-
session, letting her do things for him without even noticing
her.
’She’s a useful nonentity!’ he said. Connie opened her
eyes in wonder, but she did not contradict him. So different
are impressions on two different people!
And he soon became rather superb, somewhat lordly
with the nurse. She had rather expected it, and he played up
without knowing. So susceptible we are to what is expected
of us! The colliers had been so like children, talking to her,
and telling her what hurt them, while she bandaged them,
or nursed them. They had always made her feel so grand,
almost super-human in her administrations. Now Clifford
made her feel small, and like a servant, and she accepted it

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