David Herbert Lawrence

more money on his country than he'd got.

When Miss Chatterley---Emma---came down to London from the Midlands to

do some nursing work, she was very witty in a quiet way about Sir Geoffrey

and his determined patriotism. Herbert, the elder brother and heir, laughed

outright, though it was his trees that were falling for trench props. But

Clifford only smiled a little uneasily. Everything was ridiculous, quite

true. But when it came too close and oneself became ridiculous too...? At

least people of a different class, like Connie, were earnest about

something. They believed in something.

They were rather earnest about the Tommies, and the threat of

conscription, and the shortage of sugar and toffee for the children. In all

these things, of course, the authorities were ridiculously at fault. But

Clifford could not take it to heart. To him the authorities were ridiculous

ab ovo, not because of toffee or Tommies.

And the authorities felt ridiculous, and behaved in a rather ridiculous

fashion, and it was all a mad hatter's tea-party for a while. Till things

developed over there, and Lloyd George came to save the situation over here.

And this surpassed even ridicule, the flippant young laughed no more.

In 1916 Herbert Chatterley was killed, so Clifford became heir. He was

terrified even of this. His importance as son of Sir Geoffrey, and child of

Wragby, was so ingrained in him, he could never escape it. And yet he knew

that this too, in the eyes of the vast seething world, was ridiculous. Now

he was heir and responsible for Wragby. Was that not terrible? and also

splendid and at the same time, perhaps, purely absurd?

Sir Geoffrey would have none of the absurdity. He was pale and tense,

withdrawn into himself, and obstinately determined to save his country and

his own position, let it be Lloyd George or who it might. So cut off he was,

so divorced from the England that was really England, so utterly incapable,

that he even thought well of Horatio Bottomley. Sir Geoffrey stood for

England and Lloyd George as his forebears had stood for England and St

George: and he never knew there was a difference. So Sir Geoffrey felled

timber and stood for Lloyd George and England, England and Lloyd George.

And he wanted Clifford to marry and produce an heir. Clifford felt his

father was a hopeless anachronism. But wherein was he himself any further

ahead, except in a wincing sense of the ridiculousness of everything, and

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