fitted him
perfectly. The Highland suit came home. Mrs. Morel received it coldly
and would not unpack it.
"My suit come?" cried William.
"There's a parcel in the front room."
He rushed in and cut the string.
"How do you fancy your son in this!" he said, enraptured, showing her
the suit.
"You know I don't want to fancy you in it."
On the evening of the dance, when he had come home to dress, Mrs. Morel
put on her coat and bonnet.
"Aren't you going to stop and see me, mother?" he asked.
"No; I don't want to see you," she replied.
She was rather pale, and her face was closed and hard. She was afraid of
her son's going the same way as his father. He hesitated a moment, and
his heart stood still with anxiety. Then he caught sight of the Highland
bonnet with its ribbons. He picked it up gleefully, forgetting her. She
went out.
When he was nineteen he suddenly left the Co-op. office and got a
situation in Nottingham. In his new place he had thirty shillings a week
instead of eighteen. This was indeed a rise. His mother and his father
were brimmed up with pride. Everybody praised William. It seemed he was
going to get on rapidly. Mrs. Morel hoped, with his aid, to help her
younger sons. Annie was now studying to be a teacher. Paul, also very
clever, was getting on well, having lessons in French and German from
his godfather, the clergyman who 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 Latin; 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 almost whether to rejoice or
to grieve.
"They want me in Lime Street on Monday week, mother," he cried, his
eyes blazing as
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