Page 53 - sons-and-lovers

half wanted him to kiss her, but could not bring herself to
give any sign. She only breathed freely when he was gone
out of the room again, leaving behind him a faint smell of
pit-dirt.
Mrs. Morel had a visit every day from the Congregational
clergyman. Mr. Heaton was young, and very poor. His wife
had died at the birth of his first baby, so he remained alone
in the manse. He was a Bachelor of Arts of Cambridge, very
shy, and no preacher. Mrs. Morel was fond of him, and he
depended on her. For hours he talked to her, when she was
well. He became the god-parent of the child.
Occasionally the minister stayed to tea with Mrs. Morel.
Then she laid the cloth early, got out her best cups, with a
little green rim, and hoped Morel would not come too soon;
indeed, if he stayed for a pint, she would not mind this day.
She had always two dinners to cook, because she believed
children should have their chief meal at midday, where-
as Morel needed his at five o’clock. So Mr. Heaton would
hold the baby, whilst Mrs. Morel beat up a batter-pudding
or peeled the potatoes, and he, watching her all the time,
would discuss his next sermon. His ideas were quaint and
fantastic. She brought him judiciously to earth. It was a dis-
cussion of the wedding at Cana.
‘When He changed the water into wine at Cana,’ he said,
‘that is a symbol that the ordinary life, even the blood, of the
married husband and wife, which had before been unin-
spired, like water, became filled with the Spirit, and was as
wine, because, when love enters, the whole spiritual consti-
tution of a man changes, is filled with the Holy Ghost, and

Sons and Lovers