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I s'll be glad if she can." "Yes," replied Mrs. Leivers. "It's a wonder she isn't ill herself." Miriam was moving about preparing dinner. Paul watched everything that happened. His face was pale and thin, but his eyes were quick and bright with life as ever.
The historical scandal began when Herbert wanted to marry Alice Oulsnam, an orphan like himself, employed at a dress-maker's in Crown Square, Hanbridge. "Thou'lt marry her if thou'st a mind," said Si to Herbert, "but I s'll ne'er speak to thee again." "But why, uncle?" "That's why," said Si.
She looked again out of the window instead of answering. "And have you got lodgings in Sheffield?" "Yes." Again she looked away out of the window. The panes were blurred with streaming rain. "And can you manage all right?" she asked. "I s'd think so. I s'll have to!" They were silent when Morel returned. "I shall go by the four-twenty," he said as he entered. Nobody answered.
Another fibre seemed to snap in his heart. That evening he got all the morphia pills there were, and took them downstairs. Carefully he crushed them to powder. "What are you doing?" said Annie. "I s'll put 'em in her night milk." Then they both laughed together like two conspiring children. On top of all their horror flicked this little sanity. Nurse did not come that night to settle Mrs.
The house seemed strangely empty, and Paul thought his father looked lost, forlorn, and old. "You'll have to go and see her next week, father," he said. "I hope she'll be a-whoam by that time," said Morel. "If she's not," said Paul, "then you must come." "I dunno wheer I s'll find th' money," said Morel. "And I'll write to you what the doctor says," said Paul.
Play fair, I say, or I s'll put the cards down. 'Play fair! Why who's played unfair? ejaculated Mr. Trevorrow. 'Do you mean t'accuse me, as I haven't played fair, Mrs. Nankervis? 'I do. I say it, and I mean it. Haven't you got the queen of spades? Now, come on, no dodging round me. I know you've got that queen, as well as I know my name's Alice.
"And," she continued, "of course he says he's going to die it wouldn't be him if he didn't. 'I'm done for, my lass! he said, looking at me. 'Don't be so silly, I said to him. 'You're not going to die of a broken leg, however badly it's smashed. 'I s'll niver come out of 'ere but in a wooden box, he groaned.
"Shall we sit up?" said Paul. "I s'll lie with her as I always do," said Annie. "She might wake up." "All right. And call me if you see any difference." "Yes." They lingered before the bedroom fire, feeling the night big and black and snowy outside, their two selves alone in the world. At last he went into the next room and went to bed.
He told his mother to leave the key in the window for him. "Shall I book seats?" he asked of Clara. "Yes. And put on an evening suit, will you? I've never seen you in it." "But, good Lord, Clara! Think of ME in evening suit at the theatre!" he remonstrated. "Would you rather not?" she asked. "I will if you WANT me to; but I s'll feel a fool." She laughed at him.
He believed firmly in his work, that it was good and valuable. In spite of fits of depression, shrinking, everything, he believed in his work. He was twenty-four when he said his first confident thing to his mother. "Mother," he said, "I s'll make a painter that they'll attend to." She sniffed in her quaint fashion. It was like a half-pleased shrug of the shoulders.
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