Page 138 - sons-and-lovers

it seemed a shame.’
So she talked to her son, almost as if she were thinking
aloud to him, and he took it in as best he could, by sharing
her trouble to lighten it. And in the end she shared almost
everything with him without knowing.
Morel had a very bad time. For a week he was in a critical
condition. Then he began to mend. And then, knowing he
was going to get better, the whole family sighed with relief,
and proceeded to live happily.
They were not badly off whilst Morel was in the hospi-
tal. There were fourteen shillings a week from the pit, ten
shillings from the sick club, and five shillings from the Dis-
ability Fund; and then every week the butties had something
for Mrs. Morel—five or seven shillings—so that she was
quite well to do. And whilst Morel was progressing favour-
ably in the hospital, the family was extraordinarily happy
and peaceful. On Saturdays and Wednesdays Mrs. Morel
went to Nottingham to see her husband. Then she always
brought back some little thing: a small tube of paints for
Paul, or some thick paper; a couple of postcards for Annie,
that the whole family rejoiced over for days before the girl
was allowed to send them away; or a fret-saw for Arthur, or
a bit of pretty wood. She described her adventures into the
big shops with joy. Soon the folk in the picture-shop knew
her, and knew about Paul. The girl in the book-shop took
a keen interest in her. Mrs. Morel was full of information
when she got home from Nottingham. The three sat round
till bed-time, listening, putting in, arguing. Then Paul often
raked the fire.

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