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Sons and Lovers D. H. LAWRENCE Level 5 Retold by J. Y K. Kerr Series Editors: Andy Hopkins and Jocelyn Potter Introduction Gertrude Morel no longer loved her husband. She had not wanted this child and there it lay in her arms and pulled at her heart . . . It had come into the world unloved. She would love it all the more, now that it was here. Gertrude Morel is poor and unhappily married. Her husband Walter is rough and insensitive, spending much of his free time in the pub. Mrs Morel turns instead to her children, especially her three sons. At first William, the eldest, is her favourite. But things happen, and Mrs Morel turns all her love and attention to Paul, the second son. This moving story describes family life in a coalminer's family in the early twentieth century. It also describes the emotional development of Paul, torn between his passionate love for his mother and his romantic friendships with two young women, Miriam and Clara. David Herbert Lawrence was born near Nottingham in 1885, the fourth of five children. He trained as a school teacher and taught at a school in the south of England for three years. In 1911, his first novel, The White Peacock, came out. In the same year his mother died and he gave up teaching because of ill health. He went to Germany and Italy with Frieda Weekley, a married woman whom he married on his return to England in 1914. Lawrence was now a full-time professional writer. Unhappy in England, where he was criticised for opposing the First World War and for the sexual openness of his books, Lawrence spent most of his time abroad with Frieda. He died in the south of France in 1930, aged forty-four. Sons and Lovers (1913), one of Lawrence's most famous novels, 1s based on his own family life. Other important books include The Rainbow (1915), Women in Love (1920) and Lady Chatterley?s Lover (1928). Chapter 1 The Early Years The Morel family lived in the village of Bestwood in a house built by the mining company for its employees. Gertrude Morel was thirty-one years old and had been married for eight years. Her husband, Walter, was a coalminer. There were two children: William, a boy of seven, and Annie, who was only five. Mrs Morel was expecting her third baby in two months” time. They could not afford to have this third: she did not want it. Its father spent most of his free time drinking in the pub. She had no respect for him but she was tied to him. She was sick of it, this struggle with poverty and ugliness and dirt. Gertrude Morel was from a Nottingham family: educated, church-going people. Her father was an unsuccesstul engineer. She had her mother's small, well-made figure and her father's clear blue eyes. When she was twenty-three years old, she met, at a Christmas party, a young man of twenty-seven. Walter had shining, black, wavy hair and a black beard. He laughed often and heartily, with a rich, ringing laugh. He was quick in his movements, an excellent dancer. He was so open and pleasant with everybody. Gertrude, who was not pleasure-loving. like Walter, had never met anyone like him. His body burned with a soft golden flame, the flame of life, and seemed to her something wonderful. Walter Morel was equally impressed by Gertrude: her blue eyes, her soft brown curls, her beautiful smile. She spoke in an educated way, she had the manners of a lady. "The next Christmas they were married and for three months she was perfectly happy. She admired him for being a miner, risking his life daily. Sometimes when she herself was tired of lovetalk, she tried to open her heart seriously to him. He listened to her respectfully 1 1 LN cd | E O E - - ñ (A A A e o da . il 57 A añ A el po. mE 1 could kill you, I could!” Mrs Morel said, so angry she could hardly speak. working in the house. In the evening Morel returned, kicking open the garden gate and breaking the lock. He entered the kitchen unsteadily and nearly upset a bowl of boiling liquid which was cooling on the table. “God help us, coming home in his drunkenness!” cried Mrs Morel. “Coming home in his what?” shouted her husband, his hat over one eye. “Say you're not drunk!” she insisted. “Only a nasty old cat like you could have such a thought,” answered Morel. “You've been drinking all day, so if you're not drunk by eleven o'clock at night—' she replied. “We know well enough what you do when you go out with your beautiful Jerry. There's money to drink with, if there*s money for nothing else.” Tve not spent two shillings all day,” he sard. “Well, 1f Jerry's been buying your drinks, tell him to spend his money on his children — they need it! And what about your own children? You can't aftord to keep them, can you?” “What's it got to do with you?” he shouted. “Got to do with me? Why, a lot! You give me just twenty-five shillings-to do everything with, you go off drinking all day, come rolling home at midnight—' “It's a lie, 1t's a lie — shut your face, woman!” The quarrel got fiercer and fiercer. Each forgot everything except their hatred of the other. She was just as angry as he. “You're a liar! he shouted, banging on the table with his hand. “Yovw're a liar! You're a liar! All the dislike she felt for him now came pouring out. “You're nothing but dirt in this house!” she cried. “Then get out of it — it's mine! It's me who brings the money home, not you. So get out! Get out!” “And 1 would,” she cried in tears at her own powerlessness. “I would have gone long ago, but for those children. Do you think l stay for you?” He came up to her and held her arms tightly. She cried out, struggling to be free. He took her roughly to the outside door and pushed her out of the house, banging the door shut and locking it behind her. Then he sank exhausted into a chair and soon lost consciousness. She stood for a few moments staring helplessly in the August night, her body shaking, remembering the unborn child inside her. The darkness was full of the sweet smell of flowers. "There was no noise anywhere. Then a train rushed across the valley miles away. She went to the back door and tried the handle. It was still locked. Through the window she could just see her husband”s head on the table and his arms spread aut. She knocked on the window more and more loudly but still he did not wake. Fearful for the unborn child, she walked up and down the garden path to keep warm, knocking every now and then on the window, telling herself that in the end he must wake. At last he heard the knocking and woke up. “Open the door, Walter,” she said coldly. R.ealising what he had done, he hurried to unlock the door. As Mrs Morel entered, she saw him disappearing shamefacedly up the stairs. When at last she herself went to bed, Morel was already asleep. Chapter 2 The Birth of Paul Before the baby was born, Mrs Morel cleaned the house from top to bottom. When Morel got home one evening, the child had already arrived. The delivery nurse met him in the kitchen. “Your wife is in a bad way. It's a boy child.” He hung up his coat and then dropped into his chair. “Have you got a drink?” he asked. The nurse brought him one, 6 then without a word served him his dinner and went back upstairs. He ate his meal, sat for twenty minutes, made up the fire and then unwillinglty went up to the bedroom. His face was still black and sweaty as he stood at the end of the bed. “Well, how are you then?” he asked. T shall be all right,' she answered. “Hm. It's a boy.” She turned down the blanket and showed him the baby. He pretended to be pleased but she knew he was not much interested. He wanted to kiss her but he did not dare, so he left the room. Mrs Morel sat looking at her baby and the baby looked up at her. It had blue eyes like her own, which seemed to bring out her most secret thoughts. She no longer loved her husband. She had not wanted this child and there it lay in her arms and pulled at her heart. A wave of hot love went out of her towards the child. She held it close to her face and breast. It had come into the world unloved. She would love it all the more, now it was here. 4 During these months Morel got angry at the slightest thing. He seemed exhausted by his work. He complained if the fire was low or his dinner was not to his liking. If the children made a noise, he shouted at them in a way that made their mother's blood boil. They hated him and his bad temper. “Goodness me, man, there isn't a bit of peace while you're in the house,” said Mrs Morel at last. “T know that. You're never happy till Pm out of your sight,” he answered, and hurried to escape. He was still not home by eleven o"clock. Finally she heard him coming. He had taken his revenge: he was drunk. Is there nothing to eat in the house?” he asked roughly. “You know what there is, she said coldly. | 7 Chapter 3 William Takes the Lead Some time later Morel became seriously ill. His wife nursed him and, being strong, he soon recovered. He depended on her almost like a child and she was more tolerant of him now because she loved him less. Instead, she turned for love and life to the children and he half accepted this, letting them take his place in her heart. When they sat together at night he was restless, feeling a sort of emptiness. Then he went off to bed and she settled down to enjoy herself alone, working, thinking, living. The baby Paul hated to be touched by him. Usually a quiet baby, he went stiff in his father's arms and immediately started to scream. He was a pale, rather silent child, and his face often wore a worried or puzzled expression. Now another baby was coming, the fruit of this time of peace between the parents. This new baby was again a boy, and they called him Arthur. He was very pretty, with a head of golden curls, and he loved his father from the first. Hearing his father's footsteps, he used to wave his arms and laugh. At the same time William grew bigger and stronger and more - j active, while Paul, always rather slight, got thinner and followed his mother around like a shadow. 4 When William was thirteen, his mother got him a job in the Cooperative Society office. His father wanted him to become a miner like himself. “He's not going down the mine,” said Mrs Morel, “and there's an end ofit. If your mother put you in the mine at twelve, it's no reason why 1 should do the same with my boy.” She was very proud of her son. He was a clever boy with an open nature and eyes of the brightest blue. He went to night- school and trained as a clerk. Then he became a teacher at the 10 night-school. He could run like the wind: when he was twelve, he won first prize in a race. He could jump higher and throw farther than any boy in Bestwood. William began to get ambitious. He gave all his money to his mother. He went about with the sons of shopkeepers and the schoolteacher. He enjoyed all the social and sporting life that Bestwood offered. He also liked dancing, in spite of his mother. He was a great favourite with the ladies and enjoyed telling Paul about his successes. About this time he began to study. With a friend of his he started to learn French and Latin and other things. He and Fred Simpson studied together till midnight, sometimes till one o'clock. Soon he grew pale and Mrs Morel, alarmed, begged him to take better care of his health. When William was nineteen, he suddenly left the Co- operative office and got a job in Nottingham. Now he had thirty shillings a week instead of eighteen. His mother and father were proud of him. It seemed that he was going to succeed in life. William stayed at his job in Nottingham for a year. He was studying hard but he still went to all the dances and parties. Then he was offered a position in London at a hundred and twenty pounds a year. “They want me in Lime Street on Monday week, mother,” he cried, his eyes shining as he read the letter. Mrs Morel felt everything go silent inside her. | | “Didn't 1 tell you 1 could do it? Think of me in London! And l can give you twenty pounds a year, Mother. We shall all be rolling in money.” “We shall, my son,” she answered sadly. As the day of his departure came closer, she felt increasingly desperate. She loved him so much and now he was golng away. She felt that he was going out of her heart, leaving her only pain and sadness. Before he left — he was just twenty — William burned his file of 11 love-letters from his lady-friends. Then he went off to London to start a new file. Chapter 4 Paul's Childhood Paul's figure was rather small and slight, like his mother's. His fair hair gradually became dark brown. His eyes were grey. He was a pale, quiet child, who seemed old for his years. He was sensitive to what other people felt, especially his mother. When she was upset, he understood and could have no peace. About this time the family moved to another house near the top of a hill, commanding a fine view of the valley below. After dark Paul used to go out to play under the street lamp with the other children of their street. Then when the miners stopped coming home from the mine, he ran fearfully back to the kitchen. The lamp still burned, the fire shone red, Mrs Morel sat alone. Steam rose from the cooking pot, the dinner plate lay waiting on the table. The whole room seemed to be waiting, waiting for the man who was sitting in his coal dirt, dinnerless, a mile away from home across the darkness, drinking himselfdrunk. When Morel did come home, everyone in the house kept quiet because he was dangerous. He ate his food roughly and, when he had finished, pushed all the pots away to lay his head and arms on the table. Then he went to sleep, heavy with beer and tiredness and bad temper. Morel was shut out from family events. No one told him anything. He was an outsider. The only times he entered family life was when he found jobs to do around the house. Sometimes in the evening he mended boots, or the kettle or the metal bottle for cold tea which he took every day to the mine. Then he always wanted helpers and the children enjoyed helping him. He loved telling young Arthur stories about the little horses that the 12 miners used down in the mine. But these happy evenings only took place if Morel had some job to do. Then he always went to bed early. The children felt safe when their father was in bed. | Mrs Morel had given most of her attention to William but when he went to work in Nottingham and was not so much at home, she made a companion of Paul. The two brothers were a little jealous of each other but at the same time they were good friends. Friday night was baking night and market night, because the wages were paid on Fridays. It was the rule that Paul should stay at home and watch the bread in the oven. He loved to be by himself and draw or read. He was very fond of drawing. Mrs Morel enjoyed her marketing. The market place was always full of women shoppers. She usually quarrelled with the cloth-seller, chatted with the fruit man, laughed with the fish man, was coldly polite to the man selling pots. But this time a little dish decorated with blue flowers caught her eye. He told her it cost sevenpence. She put the dish down and walked away. Suddenly the pot man shouted: “Do you want it for fivepence?” She was surprised. She bent down and picked up the dish. “Pll have it,” she said. Paul was waiting for her. He loved her homecoming. She was always at her best, tired, happy, weighed down with parcels. She dropped her parcels and her string bag on the table. Is the bread done”” she asked, going to the oven. “The last one is 'baking, he replied. “You needn't look. 1 haven't forgotten it.” “How much do you think 1 bought this for” she said, taking the dish out of its newspaper Wrapping. "One shilling and threepence,” said Paul. "Five pence" The two stood together admiring the dish. She unfolded 13 Everybody was still for a second. Then he leaned forward, picked up a newly baked biscuit and put it whole into his mouth. He had brought them endless presents. Every penny he had, he had spent on them. For his mother there was an umbrella with gold on the handle, which she kept till her dying day. There were pounds of wonderful sweets, quite unknown in Bestwood. ] Everybody in the family was mad with happiness. People came in to see William, to see what a difference ] London had made to him. They all found him “such a gentleman, 4 such a fine young man, my word!” When he went away again, the children were in tears, Morel J took himself off to bed and Mrs Morel did all her housework mechanically, robbed of all feeling for days. Chapter 5 Paul Faces Life Morel was careless of danger. About a year after William went to London, and just after Paul had left school, before he got work, a great piece of rock fell on Morel's leg when he was working in the mine, and broke it in several places. He had a very bad time in hospital. For a week he was in a serious condition, then he began to mend. Knowing that he was going to recover, the family j began to worry less and to be happy again. Mrs Morel talked to ¿ Paul almost as if she was thinking aloud, and he listened as best he . $ could. In the end she shared almost everything with him. Together, they learned how perfectly peaceful the home could ] be. | Paul was now fourteen years old and looking for work. His ] face had lost its boyish roundness and was rather rough-looking ] but very expressive. He was quite a clever painter for a boy of his | age and he knew some French, German and mathematics. He was not strong enough for hard physical work, his mother said. 16 He did not care for making things with his hands but preferred going for country walks, or reading, or painting. “What do you want to be?” his mother asked. He had no idea. “Anything.” “That's no answer,” said Mrs Morel. But it was the only answer he could give. “Then you must look in the paper for advertisements,” said his mother. He copied out some advertisements and took them to her. “Yes, she said, “you may try. He used a letter which William had prepared for him to write to the different companies offering jobs. His handwriting was terrible. 4 William wrote from London in a kind of fever. He seemed unsettled by the speed of his new life. His mother could feel him losing himself. He wrote of dances and going to the theatre, of boats on the river, of going out with friends. But she knew he sat up afterwards in his cold bedroom, studying Latin and learning all he could about the law, because he wanted to improve himself. He never sent his mother any money now. lt was all taken, the little he had, for his own life. Mrs Morel still dreamed of William and what he could do; but in her heart she was worried. He also wrote a lot now about a girl he had met at a dance, Lily Western. His pet name for her was “Gypsy”. She was young, beautiful, very well-dressed and much admired by men. His mother congratulated him in her doubtful fashion. She imagined him tied to an expensive wife. 'm very likely an old silly,* she told herself, “expecting the worst.” But the worry remained that William would do the wrong thing. Soon Paul was asked to go for an interview at Thomas Jordan, 17 Maker of Medical Appliances, at 21, Spaniel Row, Nottingham. Mrs Morel was delighted. “You see, she cried, her eyes shining, “You”ve only written A four letters and the third is answered. 1 always said you were $ lucky.' Paul looked at the picture of the wooden leg wearing an | elastic stocking that appeared on Mr Jordan's notepaper. He had not known that elastic stockings existed. Mother and son set off one very hot morning in August. Paul felt extremely nervous but he refused to tell his mother and $ she only partly guessed. They travelled the sixteen miles to y Nottingham by train. Mother and son walked down Station 7 Street, feeling the excitement of lovers sharing an adventure. ] They turned up a narrow street that led to the Castle and | found the Thomas Jordan sign. They went through a big ] doorway into an open space full of boxes and packing stuff, and ] up two lots of stairs. In front of them was a dirty glass door ] with the company name on it. Mrs Morel pushed open the door and stood in pleased surprise. They were in a large work- | shop with thick paper parcels piled everywhere, and clerks with their sleeves rolled up, calmly going about their business. “Can I see Mr Jordan” she asked one of the clerks. “Pl fetch him, down. “Did you write this letter? he asked Paul, holding it up. “Yes” he answered. “Where did you learn to write?” Paul simply looked at him, too ashamed and nervous to speak. bo answered the young man and went to a glass office at the far end of the room. A red-faced old man with white hair came towards them. He had short legs and was | rather fat. They followed him to his office and were told to sit E “And you say you know French?” asked the little man sharply. : “A friend gave him lessons,* said Mrs Morel quickly. 18 Mr Jordan hesitated, then pulled a sheet of paper from. his pocket and passed it to Paul. | “Read that? he said. It was a letter in French in strange, spidery, foreign hand- writing which was very difficult to read. Paul struggled with “Please send me ... two pairs ... the words: of grey cotton stockings . . . without fingers .. .” “Without toes!” the factory owner corrected him. “Stockings don't have fingers.” Paul hated the little man for making him look stupid. “When can he start?” Mr Jordan asked his mother. It was agreed that Paul would be employed as a junior clerk at eight shillings a week. As he followed his mother down the stairs on their way out, she looked at him with her blue eyes full of delighted love. On the Monday morning Paul got up at six, to be ready for work. He had bought his season ticket for the train at a cost of one pound eleven shillings, and his mother had packed his dinner in a small basket. She stood in the road, watching him as he crossed the fields to the station. Now she had two sons in the world: a man in London and one in Nottingham. They came from her and their work would also be hers. All morning she thought of Paul. . At the factory Paul was told to work with Mr Pappleworth, an amusing man about thirty-six years old. Pappleworth showed him what to do. They had to read the letters ordering different appliances, note down each order in a big book, write out the exact details on a yellow order paper and take the order to one of the departments to be made. Most of the orders were for elastic stockings or bandages. Later, he was introduced to Polly and the girls downstairs, and then Fanny and the girls upstarrs. At one 0'clock Paul ate his dinner and then he went out into the brightness and freedom of the streets until two. In the 19 Paul act as her servants. And yet she was not so fine. For a year Y now, she had been some sort of secretary or clerk in a London 4 office. endlessly with his mother. “You know, mother, when I'm away from her, 1 don't care for 1 her a bit. But then when Pm with her in the evenings, I'm ] awfully fond of her.” “It's a strange sort of love to marry on,” said Mrs Morel, 1f she A holds you no more than that.' 4 Paul's wages had been increased at Christmas to ten shillings a E week. He was quite happy at Jordan's but his health suffered from 3 the long hours and the bad air. His mother wanted to help. His 3 half-day holiday was on Monday afternoon. At breakfast one j Monday in May, Mrs Morel told Paul that her friend Mrs Leivers 3 had invited them to visit her at their new farm. It was agreed that d mother and son would go that afternoon: a four mile walk. They 3 | set off in style, Mrs Morel with the umbrella William had given | her, because of the sun. After walking for a long time, they finally came to a group of 4 low, red farm buildings. There were apple trees and a pool with. i ducks. Some cows stood under the trees. As they entered the. J garden, a girl appeared in the doorway of the house. She was ] about fourteen, with short, dark curls and dark eyes. She 1 disappeared. In a minute another figure appeared, a small 1 woman, also with great dark brown eyes. “Oh” she said smiling. “You've come then. 1 am glad to see you.” She introduced the girl with the dark curls as her daughter ] Miriam. The four of them had tea together. Then they went out q for a walk in the wood. Both mother and son were thrilled by the | beauty of the place. When they got back to the house, they $ 22 At Easter William came home alone; and he discussed Lily 1 found Mr Leivers and Edgar, the eldest son, in the kitchen. Edgar was about eighteen. Then the two younger boys came in from school. The boys all went outside and played games. Miriam watched but did not join in. She was very shy. Finally it was time for the Morels to go home. Mr and Mrs Leivers walked over the fields with them for part of the way. Paul was carrying a great bunch of flowers Mrs Leivers had given them. The hills were golden with evening: everywhere was perfectly still Mrs Morel and Paul went on alone together. “Wasn't 1t lovely, Mother?” he said quietly. He felt almost painfully happy. 4 William came home again with his young lady for a week's holi- day. There was a feeling of sadness and tenderness in the house while they were there. But William often got annoyed. For an eight days stay, Lily had brought five dresses and six blouses. “Oh, could you please wash these two blouses and these other things?” she said to Annie. And Annie stayed washing while William and Lily went out. This made Mrs Morel extremely angry. William read a lot and had a quick, active mind; but Lily found reading difficult. She understood nothing but love-making and social chat. She could not give him real companionshjip. She wants to get married,” he told his mother, “and 1 think we might get married next year. é . . A fine mess of a marriage it would be,” answered his mother. “I should consider it again, my boy. Nothing is as bad as a failed marriage. Mine was bad enough, God knows.” T couldn't give her up now, said William. “Well, remember there are worse wrongs than breaking off an engagement.” Before he left, William remarked to his mother: “Gyp's 23 very fond of me now. But if I die, she'Il forget me in three? months.” ó Mrs Morel was afraid. Her heart beat wildiy, hearing the bitterness in her son's words. 3 He came home again in October, this time also alone. He was] thinner than ever. He was doing extra work, trying to make some) money to get married with. On the Sunday morning, as he wa 3 putting his collar on, he showed his mother an ugly red mark] under his chin. . 3 Three days after he left, a telegram came from London, saying] that he was ill. Mrs Morel read the telegram, borrowed somel money, put on her best clothes and set off. It was six o'clockf when she arrived at William's address. “How is he?” she asked the house-owner. | 3 “No better,” she told her. William lay on the bed, his eyes red,¡ his face discoloured. There was no fire in the room. No one had] been with him. He looked at her but did not see her: he wask quite unconscious. k: “How long has he been like this?” asked Mrs Morel. A “He got home at six o"clock on Monday morning and slept all) day. The next morning he asked for you, so I sent you a telegramf and fetched the doctor.” 4 The doctor came again. It was a chest infection, he said, and “erysipelas”, a rare skin disease. He hoped 1t would not get to the] brain. j Mrs Morel settled down to nurse. "That night she prayed fo , William, prayed that at least he would recognise her but his condition got rapidly worse. At two o'clock in the morning] he died. Mrs Morel sat perfectly still for an hour in Williams bedroom. When day came, she sent a telegram. 3 “William died last night. Let father come. Bring money.' : Morel had only once before been in London. Nervously he set off to help his wife. They returned ta Bestwood on Saturda e Y 24 night, having walked from the station. In the house Mrs Morel was white and silent. All she said was: “The coffin will be here tonight, Walter. You"d better arrange for some help.* Then, turning to the children: “We're bringing him home.” In the front room Morel arranged six chairs opposite each other for the coffin to stand on. At ten o*clock there was the noise of wheels. Arthur held one candle, Annie another. Outside in the darkness Paul could see horses, a lamp and a few pale faces. Six miners in their shirtsleeves came up the narrow garden path, holding the coffin high. “Steady, steady!” cried Morel, as if in pain. The six men struggled into the room with the great wooden box. Paul saw drops of sweat fall from his father's face onto the wooden top. At last the family was alone in the room with the great coffin. The mother was stroking the shining wood. - 'Oh my son, my son!” she cried softly. “Oh my son, my son!” | They buried him on the hillside that looks over towards Bestwood. It was sunny. They laid a bunch of white flowers on the warm earth. William had been right about Lily. She wrote to Mrs Morel at Christmas: T was at a party last night. Some charming people were there. I didn't miss a single dance .. .* After that Mrs Morel never heard from her again. Then, on 23rd December, Paul came home and gave his Christmás money to his mother with shaking hands. | “I feel bad, Mother.” | She undressed him and put him to bed. He had a serious chest infection, the doctor said. Paul was very ill. His mother lay in bed with him at night. They could not afford a nurse. He grew worse and the crisis approached. Realising how much his mother was suffering, Paul used all his willpower to hold on to life and finally he began to recover. He was in bed for seven weeks and when he 25 towards him. He gradually swung more slowly and jumped ] off. “This swing's a real winner!” he cried delightedly. Miriam was amused that he took the swing so seriously. “Don't you want to try 1t?” asked Paul. “Well — not much. P'll have just a little one.” He held the seat steady for her, then started her moving. “Keep your feet up or you'll hit the wall.* She felt him catch her and push her again and was afraid. ' Again came his push, at just the right moment. ? “Ha,” she laughed in fear. “No higher!” | “But you're not a bit high! he complained. “But no higher!” He heard the fear in her voice and stopped pushing. She felt | sure he was going to push her again but no: he left her alone. She swung more slowly and got down. Paul took her place and away ! he went. For a time he was nothing but a body swinging in space, k there was no part of him that did not swing. She could never lose herself like that. Later on they talked. She was very daissatisfied with her J life. Just because P'm a girl, why must 1 stay at home? Why am 1 not allowed to do anything? What chance do I have?” “Chance of what?” 'Of knowing anything — of learning — of doing anything. lts | not fair, just because I'm a woman.” “But it's as good to be a woman as a man,” said Paul. “Ha! — is it? Men have everything.” “But what do you want?” he asked. T want to learn. Why must 1 know nothing?” “You mean mathematics and French?” “Yes, why can't 1 learn mathematics? she cried, her eyes ¡ widening. 28 Next time he went up to the farm, he found Miriam cleaning the kitchen. | Ready to do some mathematics?” he asked, taking a little book from his pocket. “But” He could see she was doubtful. “You said you wanted to,” he insisted. “Yes, but tonight I wasn't expecting it.' However, they made a start. Paul taught Miriam regularly. She had always studied the work from the week before but things came slowly to her. He got angry with her, felt ashamed, continued the lesson, got angry again. She listened in silence. She rarely protested. “You don't give me time to learn it. She was right. It was strange that no one else made him so angry. When he saw her suffering, again he felt pity. | His painting was improving. Mr Jordan had given him Wednesday afternoon off to go to the art school. He loved to sit at home, alone with his mother at night, working and working; but when a drawing was finished, he always wanted to take it to Miriam. | The Bestwood library was open on Thursday evenings. Paul and Miriam were in the habit of meeting there when they changed their library books. Afterwards Paul often went part of the way home with her. Always when he went with Miriam and It got rather late, he knew his mother was worrying and getting angry with him. She did not like Miriam. She felt that the girl was leading Paul away from her. “She will never let him become a man, she never will,” she thought. So when he was away with Miriam, Mrs Morel got more and more annoyed. "What are you so displeased about? he asked. “Is it because you don't like her?” 1 don't say 1 don't like her. But I don't agree with young boys - And girls staying out late, and never did. 29 He kissed her and went slowly to bed. He had forgotten | Miriam. He saw only that his mother was somehow hurt. Sometimes as they were walking together, Miriam put her ¿ arm shyly into his. But he always disliked it and she knew this. He himself did not know what was the matter. He was so young 2 and their relationship was so unphysical, he did not know that he really wanted to press her to his breast to reduce the ache there. He was too ashamed to recognise the fact that he might want her as a man wants a woman. Neither of them could face such an ¿ idea. And the * purity” of their feelings prevented even their first ] love kiss. It was as if she could scarcely accept the shock of physical love, while he was too shy and sensitive to give it. Chapter 8 The Battle of Love Out of kindness to his mother, Paul did not go much to Willey Farm for a while. He sent two pictures to the autumn exhibition of students* work at the Castle Museum and both of them won first prizes. He was most excited and his mother was enormously pleased. William had won sports prizes, which she still kept; she did not forgive his death. Arthur, now in the army, was handsome, warm and generous. He would probably do well in the end. But Paul was going to do something important ] in life. She believed in him more firmly because he himself did A 3 not seem to realise his own capabilities. Life for her was rich with 1 promise. Her struggle had not been for nothing. Several times during the exhibition Mrs Morel went to the Castle Museum, unknown to Paul. She wandered round the long | A room, looking at the other pictures. Some made her jealous, they were so good. Then suddenly she had a shock that made her heart beat. There hung Paul's picture! Name — Paul Morel — First Prize. 30 She felt a proud woman. When she passed well-dressed ladies going home through the Park, she thought to herself: “Yes, you look very fine but I wonder if your son has two first prizes in the exhibition.” One day Paul met Miriam in the street in Nottingham. He had not expected to meet her in town. She was walking with a rather impressive young woman, fair-haired, with a discontented expression, who held herself boldly upright. It was strange how small Miriam looked beside this woman with the handsome shoulders. Miriam watched Paul closely: his eyes were on the stranger, not on her. She explained that she had driven in to market with her father. “Tve told you about Mrs Dawes,* she said nervously. “Clara, do you know Paul?” - “TI think P've seen him before,” replied Mrs Dawes, showing little interest as she shook hands. She had proud, grey eyes, a skin like white honey and a full mouth with a slightly lifted top lip. Her clothes were simple and rather dull. Clearly she was poor and, unlike Miriam, did not have much taste. - “Where have you seen me?” asked Paul. “Walking with Louie Travers,' she replied. Louie was one of the girls in the factory. “How do you know her?” he asked. She did not answer. The two women moved on towards the Castle. Paul remembered that Clara was the daughter of an old friend of Mrs Leivers. She had once held one of the better jobs at Jordan's and her husband, Baxter Dawes, still worked there, making metal parts. But Mrs Dawes was separated from her husband and had taken up the cause of women. People said she was clever,. He knew Baxter Dawes from work, a big, well-built man of thirty-one or two. He had the same white skin as his wife and a golden moustache; but his eyes moved continually this way and 31