Page 569 - sons-and-lovers

‘What else MIGHT it be? You asked my sister if there was
cancer in the family. Might it be cancer?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘And what shall you do?’
‘I should like an examination, with Dr. Jameson.’
‘Then have one.’
‘You must arrange about that. His fee wouldn’t be less
than ten guineas to come here from Nottingham.’
‘When would you like him to come?’
‘I will call in this evening, and we will talk it over.’
Paul went away, biting his lip.
His mother could come downstairs for tea, the doctor
said. Her son went upstairs to help her. She wore the old-
rose dressing-gown that Leonard had given Annie, and,
with a little colour in her face, was quite young again.
‘But you look quite pretty in that,’ he said.
‘Yes; they make me so fine, I hardly know myself,’ she
answered.
But when she stood up to walk, the colour went. Paul
helped her, half-carrying her. At the top of the stairs she
was gone. He lifted her up and carried her quickly down-
stairs; laid her on the couch. She was light and frail. Her
face looked as if she were dead, with blue lips shut tight. Her
eyes opened—her blue, unfailing eyes— and she looked at
him pleadingly, almost wanting him to forgive her. He held
brandy to her lips, but her mouth would not open. All the
time she watched him lovingly. She was only sorry for him.
The tears ran down his face without ceasing, but not a mus-
cle moved. He was intent on getting a little brandy between

Sons and Lovers