Mrs. Thornton had sat in the dining-room all day, every moment expecting the news of her son's acceptance by Miss Hale. She had braced herself up many and many a time, at some sudden noise in the house; had caught up the half-dropped work, and begun to ply her needle diligently, though through dimmed spectacles, and with an unsteady hand! and many times had the door opened, and some indifferent person entered on some insignificant errand. Then her rigid face unstiffened from its gray frost-bound expression, and the features dropped into the relaxed look of despondency, so unusual to their sternness. She wrenched herself away from the contemplation of all the dreary changes that would be brought about to herself by her son's marriage; she forced her thoughts into the accustomed household grooves. The newly-married couple-to-be would need fresh household stocks of linen: and Mrs. Thornton had clothes-basket upon clothes-basket, full of table-cloths and napkins, brought in, and began to reckon up the store. There was some confusion between what was hers, and consequently marked G. H. T. (for George and Hannah Thornton), and what was her son's--bought with his money, marked with his initials. Some of those marked G. H. T. were Dutch damask of the old kind, exquisitely fine; none were like them now. Mrs. Thornton stood looking at them long,--they had been her pride when she was first married. Then she knit her brows, and pinched and compressed her lips tight, and carefully unpicked the G.H. 
Mrs. Thornton had sat in the dining-room all day, every moment expecting the news of her son's acceptance by Miss Hale. She had braced herself up many a time, at some sudden noise; had caught up the half-dropped work, and begun to ply her needle diligently, though unsteadily. Many times had the door opened, and somebody entered on some insignificant errand. Then her rigid face had relaxed into despondency.
She wrenched herself away from contemplating all the dreary changes that her son's marriage would bring; she forced her thoughts into the accustomed household grooves. The newly-married couple-to-be would need fresh stocks of linen; so Mrs. Thornton had clothes-baskets full of table-cloths and napkins brought in, and began to reckon up the store. Some were hers, and marked G. H. T. (for George and Hannah Thornton), and some were her son's, marked with his initials. Her own were old Dutch damask, exquisitely fine; they had been her pride when she was first married. Mrs. Thornton knit her brows, and pinched her lips tight, and carefully unpicked the G. H.
