Children from such men！Oh God，oh God！
Yet Mellors had come from such a father.Not quite.Forty years had made a difference，an appalling difference in manhood.The iron and the coal had eaten deep into the bodies and souls of the men.
Incarnate ugliness，and yet alive！What would become of them all？Perhaps with the passing of the coal they would disappear again，off the face of the earth.They had appeared out of nowhere in their thousands，when the coal had called for them.Perhaps they were only weird fauna of the coal-seams.
Creatures of another reality，they were elementals，serving the elements of coal，as the metal-workers were elementals，serving the element of iron.
Men not men，but animas of coal and iron and clay.Fauna of the elements，carbon，iron，silicon：elementals.They had perhaps some of the weird，inhuman beauty of minerals，the lustre of coal，the weight and blueness and resistance of iron，the transparency of glass.Elemental creatures，weird and distorted，of the mineral world！They belonged to the coal，the iron，the clay，as fish belong to the sea and worms to dead wood.The anima of mineral disintegration！
Connie was glad to be home，to bury her head in the sand.She was glad even to babble to Clifford.For her fear of the mining and iron Midlands affected her with a queer feeling that went all over her，like influenza.
'Of course I had to have tea in Miss Bentley's shop，'she said.
'Really！Winter would have given you tea.'
'Oh yes，but I daren't disappoint Miss Bentley.'Miss Bentley was a shallow old maid with a rather large nose and romantic disposition who served tea with a careful intensity worthy of a sacrament.
'Did she ask after me？'said Clifford.
'Of course！--.May I ask your Ladyship how Sir Clifford is！--Ibelieve she ranks you even higher than Nurse Cavell！'
'And I suppose you said I was blooming.'
'Yes！And she looked as rapt as if I had said the heavens had opened to you.I said if she ever came to Tevershall she was to come to see you.'
'Me！Whatever for！See me！'
'Why yes，Clifford.You can't be so adored without making some slight return.Saint George of Cappadocia was nothing to you，in her eyes.'
'And do you think she'll come？'
'Oh，she blushed！and looked quite beautiful for a moment，poor thing！
Why don't men marry the women who would really adore them？'
'The women start adoring too late.But did she say she'd come？'
'Oh！'Connie imitated the breathless Miss Bentley，'your Ladyship，if ever I should dare to presume！'
'Dare to presume！how absurd！But I hope to God she won't turn up.And how was her tea？'
'Oh，Lipton's and very strong.But Clifford，do you realize you are the Roman de la rose of Miss Bentley and lots like her？'
'I'm not flattered，even then.'
'They treasure up every one of your pictures in the illustrated papers，and probably pray for you every night.It's rather wonderful.'
She went upstairs to change.
That evening he said to her：
'You do think，don't you，that there is something eternal in marriage？'
She looked at him.
'But Clifford，you make eternity sound like a lid or a long，long chain that trailed after one，no matter how far one went.'
He looked at her，annoyed.
'What I mean，'he said，'is that if you go to Venice，you won't go in the hopes of some love affair that you can take au grand sérieux ，will you？'
'A love affair in Venice au grand sérieux ？No.I assure you！No，I'd never take a love affair in Venice more than au très petit sérieux .'
She spoke with a queer kind of contempt.He knitted his brows，looking at her.
Coming downstairs in the morning，she found the keeper's dog Flossie sitting in the corridor outside Clifford's room，and whimpering very faintly.
'Why，Flossie！'she said softly.'What are you doing here？'
And she quietly opened Clifford's door.Clifford was sitting up in bed，with the bed-table and typewriter pushed aside，and the keeper was standing at attention at the foot of the bed.Flossie ran in.With a faint gesture of head and eyes，Mellors ordered her to the door again，and she slunk out.
'Oh，good morning，Clifford！'Connie said.'I didn't know you were busy.'
Then she looked at the keeper，saying good morning to him.He murmured his reply，looking at her as if vaguely.But she felt a whiff of passion touch her，from his mere presence.
'Did I interrupt you，Clifford？I'm sorry.'
'No，it's nothing of any importance.'
She slipped out of the room again，and up to the blue boudoir on the first floor.She sat in the window，and saw him go down the drive，with his curious，silent motion，effaced.He had a natural sort of quiet distinction，an aloof pride，and also a certain look of frailty.A hireling！One of Clifford's hirelings！'The fault，dear Brutus，is not in our stars，but in ourselves，that we are underlings.'
Was he an underling？Was he？What did he think of her ？