Margaret, could you not have loved me? I am but uncouth and hard, but I would never have led you into any falsehood for me."
The more Mrs. Thornton thought over what her son had said, in pleading for a merciful judgment for Margaret's indiscretion, the more bitterly she felt inclined towards her. She took a savage pleasure in the idea of "speaking her mind" to her, in the guise of fulfilment of a duty. She enjoyed the thought of showing herself untouched by the "glamour," which she was well aware Margaret had the power of throwing over many people. She snorted scornfully over the picture of the beauty of her victim; her jet black hair, her clear smooth skin, her lucid eyes would not help to save her one word of the just and stern reproach which Mrs. Thornton spent half the night in preparing to her mind.
"Is Miss Hale within?" She knew she was, for she had seen her at the window, and she had her feet inside the little hall before Martha had half answered the question.
Margaret was sitting alone, writing to Edith, and giving her many particulars of her mother's last days. It was a softening employment, and she had to brush away the unbidden tears as Mrs. Thornton was announced.

Could you not have loved me? I am uncouth and hard, but I would never have led you into any falsehood for me.'
The more Mrs. Thornton thought over what her son had said, in pleading for a merciful judgment on Margaret, the more bitter she felt towards her. She took a savage pleasure in the idea of 'speaking her mind' to her, in the guise of fulfilling her duty. She enjoyed the thought of showing herself untouched by the enchantment which she felt Margaret had thrown over many people. She snorted scornfully over her victim's beauty; her jet black hair, her smooth skin, her lucid eyes would not save her one word of the just and stern reproach which Mrs. Thornton spent half the night preparing in her mind.
'Is Miss Hale within?' She knew she was, for she had seen her at the window, and she had her feet inside the little hall before Martha had answered.
Margaret was sitting alone, writing to Edith about her mother's last days. She had to brush away unbidden tears as Mrs. Thornton was announced.
