Chapter 6 - Page 2

They loathed him.

Arthur was so inflamed and irritable at last, that when he
won a scholarship for the Grammar School in Nottingham, his mother
decided to let him live in town, with one of her sisters, and only
come home at week-ends.

Annie was still a junior teacher in the Board-school, earning
about four shillings a week. But soon she would have fifteen shillings,
since she had passed her examination, and there would be financial
peace in the house.

Mrs. Morel clung now to Paul. He was quiet and not brilliant.
But still he stuck to his painting, and still he stuck to his mother.
Everything he did was for her. She waited for his coming home
in the evening, and then she unburdened herself of all she
had pondered, or of all that had occurred to her during the day.
He sat and listened with his earnestness. The two shared lives.

William was engaged now to his brunette, and had bought her
an engagement ring that cost eight guineas. The children gasped
at such a fabulous price.

"Eight guineas!" said Morel. "More fool him! If he'd gen me
some on't, it 'ud ha' looked better on 'im."

"Given YOU some of it!" cried Mrs. Morel. "Why give YOU
some of it!"

She remembered HE had bought no engagement ring at all,
and she preferred William, who was not mean, if he were foolish.
But now the young man talked only of the dances to which he went
with his betrothed, and the different resplendent clothes she wore;
or he told his mother with glee how they went to the theatre like
great swells.

He wanted to bring the girl home. Mrs. Morel said she
should come at the Christmas. This time William arrived with
a lady, but with no presents. Mrs. Morel had prepared supper.
Hearing footsteps, she rose and went to the door. William entered.

"Hello, mother!" He kissed her hastily, then stood aside
to present a tall, handsome girl, who was wearing a costume of fine
black-and-white check, and furs.

"Here's Gyp!"

Miss Western held out her hand and showed her teeth in a small smile.

"Oh, how do you do, Mrs. Morel!" she exclaimed.

"I am afraid you will be hungry," said Mrs. Morel.

"Oh no, we had dinner in the train. Have you got my gloves, Chubby?"

William Morel, big and raw-boned, looked at her quickly.

"How should I?" he said.

"Then I've lost them. Don't be cross with me."

A frown went over his face, but he said nothing. She glanced
round the kitchen. It was small and curious to her, with its
glittering kissing-bunch, its evergreens behind the pictures,
its wooden chairs and little deal table. At that moment Morel
came in.

"Hello, dad!"

"Hello, my son! Tha's let on me!"

The two shook