David Herbert Lawrence

having her own way. For after all he was only a hired man. He hated her

presence there.

Connie came to herself with sudden uneasiness. She rose. The afternoon

was turning to evening, yet she could not go away. She went over to the man,

who stood up at attention, his worn face stiff and blank, his eyes watching

her.

`It is so nice here, so restful,' she said. `I have never been here

before.'

`No?'

`I think I shall come and sit here sometimes.

`Yes?'

`Do you lock the hut when you're not here?'

`Yes, your Ladyship.'

`Do you think I could have a key too, so that I could sit here

sometimes? Are there two keys?'

`Not as Ah know on, ther' isna.'

He had lapsed into the vernacular. Connie hesitated; he was putting up

an opposition. Was it his hut, after all?

`Couldn't we get another key?' she asked in her soft voice, that

underneath had the ring of a woman determined to get her way.

`Another!' he said, glancing at her with a flash of anger, touched with

derision.

`Yes, a duplicate,' she said, flushing.

`'Appen Sir Clifford 'ud know,' he said, putting her off.

`Yes!' she said, `he might have another. Otherwise we could have one

made from the one you have. It would only take a day or so, I suppose. You

could spare your key for so long.'

`Ah canna tell yer, m'Lady! Ah know nob'dy as ma'es keys round 'ere.'

Connie suddenly flushed with anger.

`Very well!' she said. `I'll see to it.'

`All right, your Ladyship.'

Their eyes met. His had a cold, ugly look of dislike and contempt, and

indifference to what would happen. Hers were hot with rebuff.

But her heart sank, she saw how utterly he disliked her, when she went

against him. And she saw him in a sort of desperation.

`Good afternoon!'

`Afternoon, my Lady!' He saluted and turned abruptly away. She had

wakened the sleeping dogs of old voracious anger in him, anger against the

self-willed female. And he was powerless, powerless. He knew it!

And she was angry against the self-willed male. A servant too! She

walked sullenly home.

She found Mrs Bolton under the great beech-tree on the knoll, looking

for her.

`I just wondered if you'd be coming, my Lady,' the woman said brightly.

`Am I late?' asked Connie.

`Oh only Sir Clifford was waiting for his tea.'

`Why didn't you make it then?'

`Oh, I don't think it's hardly my place. I don't think Sir Clifford

<<BackPagesTo menuForward>>