Page 183 - sons-and-lovers

She sat and talked about the dinner on the train, which
had been so poor; about London, about dances. She was re-
ally very nervous, and chattered from fear. Morel sat all the
time smoking his thick twist tobacco, watching her, and lis-
tening to her glib London speech, as he puffed. Mrs. Morel,
dressed up in her best black silk blouse, answered quietly
and rather briefly. The three children sat round in silence
and admiration. Miss Western was the princess. Every-
thing of the best was got out for her: the best cups, the best
spoons, the best table cloth, the best coffee-jug. The children
thought she must find it quite grand. She felt strange, not
able to realise the people, not knowing how to treat them.
William joked, and was slightly uncomfortable.
At about ten o’clock he said to her:
‘Aren’t you tired, Gyp?’
‘Rather, Chubby,’ she answered, at once in the intimate
tones and putting her head slightly on one side.
‘I’ll light her the candle, mother,’ he said.
‘Very well,’ replied the mother.
Miss Western stood up, held out her hand to Mrs. Mo-
rel.
‘Good-night, Mrs. Morel,’ she said.
Paul sat at the boiler, letting the water run from the tap
into a stone beer-bottle. Annie swathed the bottle in an old
flannel pit-singlet, and kissed her mother good-night. She
was to share the room with the lady, because the house was
full.
‘You wait a minute,’ said Mrs. Morel to Annie. And An-
nie sat nursing the hot-water bottle. Miss Western shook

1 Sons and Lovers