Page 87 - sons-and-lovers

was still a friend to Mrs. Morel. Arthur, a spoilt and very
good-looking boy, was at the Board school, but there was
talk of his trying to get a scholarship for the High School in
Nottingham.
William remained a year at his new post in Nottingham.
He was studying hard, and growing serious. Something
seemed to be fretting him. Still he went out to the dances
and the river parties. He did not drink. The children were
all rabid teetotallers. He came home very late at night, and
sat yet longer studying. His mother implored him to take
more care, to do one thing or another.
‘Dance, if you want to dance, my son; but don’t think you
can work in the office, and then amuse yourself, and THEN
study on top of all. You can’t; the human frame won’t stand
it. Do one thing or the other—amuse yourself or learn Lat-
in; but don’t try to do both.’
Then he got a place in London, at a hundred and twenty
a year. This seemed a fabulous sum. His mother doubted al-
most whether to rejoice or to grieve.
‘They want me in Lime Street on Monday week, mother,’
he cried, his eyes blazing as he read the letter. Mrs. Morel
felt everything go silent inside her. He read the letter: ‘And
will you reply by Thursday whether you accept. Yours faith-
fully—-’ They want me, mother, at a hundred and twenty a
year, and don’t even ask to see me. Didn’t I tell you I could
do it! Think of me in London! And I can give you twenty
pounds a year, mater. We s’ll all be rolling in money.’
‘We shall, my son,’ she answered sadly.
It never occurred to him that she might be more hurt at

Sons and Lovers