Page 186 - sons-and-lovers

‘Well, it’s a winder!’ he exclaimed.
The family had breakfasted, all but William. He went to
the foot of the stairs.
‘Shall I have to send you an Easter egg up there?’ he
called, rather crossly. She only laughed. The family expect-
ed, 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 admira-
tion. 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’ wholeheartedly; in fact,
his mother scarcely forgave the boy for the adulation with

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