David Herbert Lawrence

very hard on Lady Chatterley, perhaps harder on her. What she misses! I only

had Ted three years, but my word, while I had him I had a husband I could

never forget. He was one in a thousand, and jolly as the day. Who'd ever

have thought he'd get killed? I don't believe it to this day somehow, I've

never believed it, though I washed him with my own hands. But he was never

dead for me, he never was. I never took it in.'

This was a new voice in Wragby, very new for Connie to hear; it roused

a new ear in her.

For the first week or so, Mrs Bolton, however, was very quiet at

Wragby, her assured, bossy manner left her, and she was nervous. With

Clifford she was shy, almost frightened, and silent. He liked that, and soon

recovered his self-possession, letting her do things for him without even

noticing her.

`She's a useful nonentity!' he said. Connie opened her eyes in wonder,

but she did not contradict him. So different are impressions on two

different people!

And he soon became rather superb, somewhat lordly with the nurse. She

had rather expected it, and he played up without knowing. So susceptible we

are to what is expected of us! The colliers had been so like children,

talking to her, and telling her what hurt them, while she bandaged them, or

nursed them. They had always made her feel so grand, almost super-human in

her administrations. Now Clifford made her feel small, and like a servant,

and she accepted it without a word, adjusting herself to the upper classes.

She came very mute, with her long, handsome face, and downcast eyes, to

administer to him. And she said very humbly: `Shall I do this now, Sir

Clifford? Shall I do that?'

`No, leave it for a time. I'll have it done later.'

`Very well, Sir Clifford.'

`Come in again in half an hour.'

`Very well, Sir Clifford.'

`And just take those old papers out, will you?'

`Very well, Sir Clifford.'

She went softly, and in half an hour she came softly again. She was

bullied, but she didn't mind. She was experiencing the upper classes. She

neither resented nor disliked Clifford; he was just part of a phenomenon,

the phenomenon of the high-class folks, so far unknown to her, but now to be

known. She felt more at home with Lady Chatterley, and after all it's the

mistress of the house matters most.

Mrs Bolton helped Clifford to bed at night, and slept across the

passage from his room, and came if he rang for her in the night. She also

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