“Go out!” Mrs. Morel commanded her son.
William had not the wit to move. Suddenly Morel clenched his fist, and crouched.
“I’ll gi’e him ‘go out’!” he shouted like an insane thing.
“What!” cried Mrs. Morel, panting with rage. “You shall not touch him for her telling, you shall not!”
“Shonna I?” shouted Morel. “Shonna I?”
And, glaring at the boy, he ran forward. Mrs. Morel sprang in between them, with her fist lifted.
“Don’t you dare I” she cried.
“What!” he shouted, baffled for the moment. “What!”
She spun round to her son.
“Go out of the house!” she commanded him in fury.
The boy, as if hypnotized by her, turned suddenly and was gone. Morel rushed to the door, but was too late. He returned, pale under his pit-dirt with fury. But now his wife was fully roused.
“Only dare!” she said in a loud, ringing voioe. “Only dare, mllord, to lay a finger on that child! You’ll regret it for ever.”
He was afraid of her. In a towering rage, he sat down.
When the children were old enough to be left, Mrs. Morel joined the Women’s Guild. It was a little club of women attached to the Co-operative Wholesale Society, which met on Monday night in the long room over the grocery shop of the Bestwood “Co-op.” The women were supposed to discuss the benefits to be derived from co-operation, and other social questions. Sometimes Mrs. Morel read a paper. It seemed queer to the children to see their mother, who was always busy about the house, sitting writing in her rapid fashion, thinking, referring to books, and writing again. They felt for her on such occasions the deepest respect.
But they loved the Guild. It was the only thing to which they did not grudge their mother—and that partly because she enjoyed it, partly because of the treats they derived from it. The Guild was called by some hostile husbands, who found their wives getting too independent, the “clat-fart” shop—that is, the gossip-shop. It is true, from off the basis of the Guild, the women could look at their homes, at the conditions of their own lives, and find fault. So the colliers found their women had a new standard of their own, rather disconcerting. And also, Mrs. Morel always had a lot of news on Monday nights, so that the children liked William to be in when their mother came home, because she told him things.
