David Herbert Lawrence

boy who poses on the side of the angels--or so the women saw it.

Miss Pinnegar was prepared to combat him now by sheer weight of

opposition. She would pitch her dead negative will obstinately

against him. She would not speak to him, she would not observe his

presence, she was stone deaf and stone blind: there _was_ no James.

This nettled him. And she miscalculated him. He merely took another

circuit, and rose another flight higher on the spiral of his

spiritual egotism. He believed himself finely and sacredly in the

right, that he was frustrated by lower beings, above whom it was his

duty to rise, to soar. So he soared to serene heights, and his

Private Hotel seemed a celestial injunction, an erection on a higher

plane.

He saw the architect: and then, with his plans and schemes, he saw

the builder and contractor. The builder gave an estimate of six or

seven hundred--but James had better see the plumber and fitter who

was going to instal the new hot water and sanitary system. James was

a little dashed. He had calculated much less. Having only a few

hundred pounds in possession after Throttle-Ha'penny, he was

prepared to mortgage Manchester House if he could keep in hand a

sufficent sum of money for the running of his establishment for a

year. He knew he would have to sacrifice Miss Pinnegar's work-room.

He knew, and he feared Miss Pinnegar's violent and unmitigated

hostility. Still--his obstinate spirit rose--he was quite prepared

to risk everything on this last throw.

Miss Allsop, daughter of the builder, called to see Alvina. The

Allsops were great Chapel people, and Cassie Allsop was one of the

old maids. She was thin and nipped and wistful looking, about

forty-two years old. In private, she was tyrannously exacting with

the servants, and spiteful, rather mean with her motherless nieces.

But in public she had this nipped, wistful look.

Alvina was surprised by this visit. When she found Miss Allsop at

the back door, all her inherent hostility awoke.

"Oh, is it you, Miss Allsop! Will you come in."

They sat in the middle room, the common living room of the house.

"I called," said Miss Allsop, coming to the point at once, and

speaking in her Sunday-school-teacher voice, "to ask you if you know

about this Private Hotel scheme of your father's?"

"Yes," said Alvina.

"Oh, you do! Well, we wondered. Mr. Houghton came to father about

the building alterations yesterday. They'll be awfully expensive."

"Will they?" said Alvina, making big, mocking eyes.

"Yes, very. What do _you_ think of the scheme?"

"I?--well--!" Alvina hesitated, then broke into a laugh. "To tell

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