She gladly took all charge of the semblances of duties off Edith's hands; answered notes, reminded her of engagements, tended her when no gaiety was in prospect, and she was consequently rather inclined to fancy herself ill. But all the rest of the family were in the full business of the London season, and Margaret was often left alone. Then her thoughts went back to Milton, with a strange sense of the contrast between the life there, and here. She was getting surfeited of the eventless ease in which no struggle or endeavour was required. She was afraid lest she should even become sleepily deadened into forgetfulness of anything beyond the life which was lapping her round with luxury. There might be toilers and moilers there in London, but she never saw them; the very servants lived in an underground world of their own, of which she knew neither the hopes nor the fears; they only seemed to start into existence when some want or whim of their master and mistress needed them. There was a strange unsatisfied vacuum in Margaret's heart and mode of life; and, once when she had dimly hinted this to Edith, the latter, wearied with dancing the night before, languidly stroked Margaret's cheek as she sat by her in the old attitude,--she on a footstool by the sofa where Edith lay.

Margaret gladly took all duties off Edith's hands. She answered notes, reminded her of engagements, and tended her when no gaiety was in prospect, and Edith was consequently inclined to fancy herself ill. But the rest of the family were in the full swing of the London season, and Margaret, withdrawn from society while she was in mourning, was often left alone.
Then her thoughts went back to Milton, with a strange sense of the contrast between the life there, and here. She was getting surfeited of the ease in which no effort was required. She was afraid of becoming sleepily deadened into forgetfulness of anything beyond this luxurious life. There might be workers in London, but she never saw them; the very servants lived in an underground world of their own, and only seemed to start into existence when their master or mistress needed them. There was a strange unsatisfied vacuum in Margaret's heart; and once, when she hinted this to Edith, the latter languidly stroked Margaret's cheek.
