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 hands, and William presented the lady. She gave the same smile that showed her teeth.
“How do you do, Mr. Morel?”
Moral bowed obsequiously.
“I’m very well, and I hope so are you. You must make yourself very welcome.”
“Oh, thank you,” she replied, rather amused.
“You will like to go upstairs,” said Mrs. Morel.
“If you don’t mind; but not if it is any trouble to you.”
“It is no trouble. Annie will take you. Walter, carry up this box.”
“And don’t be an hour dressing yourself up,” said William to his betrothed.
Annie took a brass candlestick, and, too shy almost to speak, preceded the young lady to the front bedroom, which Mr. and Mrs. Morel had vacated for her. It, too, was small and cold by candle-light. The colliers’ wives only lit fires in bedrooms in case of extreme illness.
“Shall I unstrap the box?” asked Annie.
