"Is there necessity for calling it a battle between the two classes?"

'Need you call it a battle between the two classes?'


"I know, from your using the term, it is one which gives a true idea of the real state of things to your mind."
"It is true; and I believe it to be as much a necessity as that prudent wisdom and good conduct are always opposed to, and doing battle with ignorance and improvidence.

'I believe it indicates the true state of things; and prudent wisdom is always doing battle with ignorance and improvidence.


It is one of the great beauties of our system, that a working-man may raise himself into the power and position of a master by his own exertions and behaviour; that, in fact, every one who rules himself to decency and sobriety of conduct, and attention to his duties, comes over to our ranks; it may not be always as a master, but as an overlooker, a cashier, a book-keeper, a clerk, one on the side of authority and order."

It is one of the great beauties of our system, that a working-man may raise himself into the position of a master by his own exertions and behaviour; that, in fact, everyone who acts decently and attends to his duties, comes over to our ranks; it may not be always as a master, but as an over-looker, a cashier, a book-keeper, or a clerk.'


"You consider all who are unsuccessful in raising themselves in the world, from whatever cause, as your enemies, then, if I understand you rightly," said Margaret, in a clear, cold voice.

'You consider all who are unsuccessful in raising themselves in the world, from whatever cause, as your enemies, then, if I understand you rightly,' said Margaret in a clear, cold voice.


"As their own enemies, certainly," said he, quickly, not a little piqued by the haughty disapproval her form of expression and tone of speaking implied.

'As their own enemies, certainly,' said he quickly, somewhat piqued by her haughty disapproval.


But, in a moment, his straightforward honesty made him feel that his words were but a poor and quibbling answer to what she had said, and, be she as scornful as she liked, it was a duty he owed to himself to explain, as truly as he could, what he did mean.

But his straightforward honesty made him feel that his words were a poor answer, and that he needed to explain.


Yet it was very difficult to separate her interpretation, and keep it distinct from his meaning.


He could best have illustrated what he wanted to say by telling them something of his own life; but was it not too personal a subject to speak about to strangers?

He could best illustrate what he wanted to say by telling them something of his own life; but was it not too personal a subject to speak about to strangers?


Still, it was the simple straightforward way of explaining his meaning; so, putting aside the touch of shyness that brought a momentary flush of colour into his dark cheek, he said:

Still, it was the most straightforward way of explaining his meaning; so, putting aside the touch of shyness that brought a momentary flush to his cheek, he said:


'Sixteen years ago, my father died under very miserable circumstances.


I was taken from school, and had to become a man (as well as I could) in a few days.


I had such a mother as few are blest with; a woman of strong power, and firm resolve.

I had such a mother as few are blest with; a strong woman of firm resolve.


We went into a small country town, where living was cheaper than in Milton, and where I got employment in a draper's shop (a capital place, by the way, for obtaining a knowledge of goods).

We went to a small country town, where living was cheaper than in Milton, and where I got work in a draper's shop.


Week by week, our income came to fifteen shillings, out of which three people had to be kept.

Our weekly income was fifteen shillings, out of which three people had to be kept.


My mother managed so that I put by three out of these fifteen shillings regularly.

My mother managed so that I saved three of those shillings regularly.


This made the beginning; this taught me self-denial.


Now that I am able to afford my mother such comforts as her age, rather than her own wish, requires, I thank her silently on each occasion for the early training she gave me.

Now that I am able to afford my mother such comforts as her age requires, I thank her silently for the early training she gave me.


Now when I feel that in my own case it is no good luck, nor merit, nor talent,--but simply the habits of life which taught me to despise indulgences not thoroughly earned,--indeed, never to think twice about them,--I believe that this suffering, which Miss Hale says is impressed on the countenances of the people of Milton, is but the natural punishment of dishonestly-enjoyed pleasure, at some former period of their lives.

I feel that in my own case it is not good luck, nor merit, nor talent - but simply the habits of life which taught me to despise indulgence. And I believe that this suffering, which Miss Hale says is shown on the faces of the people of Milton, is but the natural punishment of dishonestly-enjoyed pleasure at some former period of their lives.


I do not look on self-indulgent, sensual people as worthy of my hatred; I simply look upon them with contempt for their poorness of character."

I do not look on self-indulgent people as worthy of my hatred; I simply look upon them with contempt for their poorness of character.'


"But you have the rudiments of a good education," remarked Mr. Hale.

'But you have had the rudiments of a good education,' remarked Mr. Hale.


"The quick zest with which you are now reading Homer, shows me that you do not come to it as an unknown book: you have read it before, and are only recalling your old knowledge."

'The quick zest with which you are now reading Homer, shows me that you have read it before, and are recalling your old knowledge.'


"That is true,--I had blundered along it at school; I dare say, I was even considered a pretty fair classic in those days, though my Latin and Greek have slipt away from me since.

'That is true; at school, I dare say I was considered a pretty fair classical scholar, though my Latin and Greek have slipped away since.


But I ask you, what preparation were they for such a life as I had to lead?


On the point of education, any man who can read and write starts fair with me in the amount of really useful knowledge that I had at that time."

On the point of education, any man who can read and write starts fair with me.'


But there I am perhaps somewhat of a pedant.


Did not the recollection of the heroic simplicity of the Homeric life nerve you up?"

Did not the recollection of the heroic simplicity of the Homeric life nerve you up?'


"I was too busy to think about any dead people, with the living pressing alongside of me, neck to neck, in the struggle for bread.

'I was too busy struggling for bread to think about it.


Now that I have my mother safe in the quiet peace that becomes her age, and duly rewards her former exertions, I can turn to all that old narration and thoroughly enjoy it."

Now that I have my mother safe in the peace that rewards her former exertions, I can turn to that old narration and thoroughly enjoy it.'


"I dare say, my remark came from the professional feeling of there being nothing like leather," replied Mr. Hale.


When Mr. Thornton rose up to go away, after shaking hands with Mr. and Mrs. Hale, he made an advance to Margaret to wish her good-bye in a similar manner.

When Mr. Thornton rose to go, after shaking hands with Mr. and Mrs. Hale he advanced to Margaret to wish her good-bye in a similar manner.


It was the frank familiar custom of the place; but Margaret was not prepared for it.

It was the custom of the place; but Margaret was not prepared for it.


She simply bowed her farewell; although the instant she saw the hand, half put out, quickly drawn back, she was sorry she had not been aware of the intention.

She simply bowed her farewell; although the instant she saw the hand quickly drawn back, she was sorry she had not been aware of his intention.


Mr. Thornton, however, knew nothing of her sorrow, and, drawing himself up to his full height, walked off, muttering as he left the house--

Mr. Thornton, however, drawing himself up to his full height, walked off, muttering as he left the house-


"A more proud, disagreeable girl I never saw.

'A more proud, disagreeable girl I never saw.


Even her great beauty is blotted out of one's memory by her scornful ways."

Even her great beauty is blotted out of one's memory by her scornful ways.'


"By the soft green light in the woody glade, On the banks of moss where thy childhood played By the household tree, thro' which thine eye First looked in love to the summer sky."


Margaret was once more in her morning dress, travelling quietly home with her father, who had come up to assist at the wedding.

After the wedding Margaret travelled quietly home with her father.


Her mother had been detained at home by a multitude of half-reasons, none of which anybody fully understood, except Mr. Hale, who was perfectly aware that all his arguments in favour of a grey satin gown, which was midway between oldness and newness, had proved unavailing; and that, as he had not the money to equip his wife afresh, from top to toe, she would not show herself at her only sister's only child's wedding.

Her mother had stayed at home for a multitude of half-reasons, which nobody fully understood except Mr. Hale, who was aware that she had felt her grey satin gown was too old for the occasion. As he had not the money to buy his wife a new outfit, she would not show herself at her only niece's wedding.


If Mrs. Shaw had guessed at the real reason why Mrs. Hale did not accompany her husband, she would have showered down gowns upon her; but it was nearly twenty years since Mrs. Shaw had been the poor pretty Miss Beresford, and she had really forgotten all grievances except that of the unhappiness arising from disparity of age in married life, on which she could descant by the half-hour.

If Mrs. Shaw had guessed at the real reason why Mrs. Hale did not accompany her husband, she would have showered down gowns upon her sister; but it was nearly twenty years since Mrs. Shaw had been the poor, pretty Miss Beresford, and she had forgotten all misfortunes except that of disparity of age in marriage, on which she could talk by the half-hour.


Dearest Maria had married the man of her heart, only eight years older than herself, with the sweetest temper, and that blue black hair one so seldom sees. Mr. Hale was one of the most delightful preachers she had ever heard, and a perfect model of a parish priest.

Dearest Maria had married the man of her heart, with the sweetest temper and jet-black hair; Mr. Hale was one of the most delightful preachers she had ever heard, and a perfect model of a parish priest.


Perhaps it was not quite a logical deduction from all these premises, but it was still Mrs. Shaw's characteristic conclusion, as she thought over her sister's lot: "Married for love, what can dearest Maria have to wish for in this world?"

So Mrs. Shaw concluded: 'Married for love, what can dearest Maria have to wish for in this world?'


Mrs. Hale, if she spoke truth, might have answered with a ready-made list, "a silver-grey glac silk, a white chip bonnet, oh! dozens of things for the wedding, and hundreds of things for the house."

Mrs. Hale might have truthfully answered, 'A silver-grey silk, a white bonnet, dozens of things for the wedding, and hundreds of things for the house.'


Margaret only knew that her mother had not found it convenient to come, and she was not sorry to think that their meeting and greeting would take place at Helstone parsonage, rather than, during the confusion of the last two or three days, in the house in Harley Street, where she herself had had to play the part of Figaro, and was wanted everywhere at one and the same time.

Margaret only knew that her mother had not found it convenient to come, and she was not sorry that they would meet at Helstone parsonage, rather than during the confusion of the last few days in Harley Street.


Her mind and body ached now with the recollection of all she had done and said within the last forty-eight hours.


The farewells so hurriedly taken, amongst all the other good-byes, of those she had lived with so long, oppressed her now with a sad regret for the times that were no more; it did not signify what those times had been, they were gone never to return.

The hurried farewells oppressed her with a sad regret for the times that were no more; it did not matter what those times had been, they were gone never to return.


Margaret's heart felt more heavy than she could ever have thought it possible in going to her own dear home, the place and the life she had longed for for years--at that time of all times for yearning and longing, just before the sharp senses lose their outlines in sleep.

Margaret's heart felt heavier than she could have thought possible in going to her own dear longed-for home.


She took her mind away with a wrench from the recollection of the past to the bright serene contemplation of the hopeful future.

She wrenched her mind away from the recollection of the past to the bright contemplation of the hopeful future.


Her eyes began to see, not visions of what had been, but the sight actually before her; her dear father leaning back asleep in the railway carriage. His blue-black hair was grey now, and lay thinly over his brows.

She looked at her dear father leaning back asleep in the railway carriage; his black hair was grey now, and thinner.


The bones of his face were plainly to be seen--too plainly for beauty, if his features had been less finely cut; as it was, they had a grace if not a comeliness of their own.

The finely cut bones of his face were plainly to be seen.


The face was in repose; but it was rather rest after weariness than the serene calm of the countenance of one who led a placid, contented life.

The face was in the repose of weariness, rather than the serene calm of one who led a placid, contented life.


Margaret was painfully struck by the worn, anxious expression; and she went back over the open and avowed circumstances of her father's life, to find the cause for the lines that spoke so plainly of habitual distress and depression.

Margaret was painfully struck by his worn, anxious expression; and she looked into the past, to find the cause for the lines of distress and depression.


if Frederick had but been a clergyman, instead of going into the navy, and being lost to us all!

if only Frederick had been a clergyman, instead of going into the navy, and being lost to us!


I never understood it from Aunt Shaw; I only knew he could not come back to England because of that terrible affair.


I am so glad I am going home, to be at hand to comfort him and mamma."

I am so glad I am going home, to comfort him and mamma.'


She was ready with a bright smile, in which there was not a trace of fatigue, to greet her father when he awakened.

She was ready with a bright smile to greet her father when he awakened.


He smiled back again, but faintly, as if it were an unusual exertion. His face returned into its lines of habitual anxiety.

He smiled back, but faintly, as if it were an unusual exertion; and his face returned into its lines of habitual anxiety.


He had a trick of half-opening his mouth as if to speak, which constantly unsettled the form of the lips, and gave the face an undecided expression.


But he had the same large, soft eyes as his daughter,--eyes which moved slowly and almost grandly round in their orbits, and were well veiled by their transparent white eyelids.

He had the same large, soft eyes as his daughter.


Margaret was more like him than like her mother.


Sometimes people wondered that parents so handsome should have a daughter who was so far regularly beautiful; not beautiful at all, was occasionally said.

Sometimes people wondered that parents so handsome should have a daughter who was so far from conventionally beautiful.


Her mouth was wide; no rosebud that could only open just enough to let out a "yes" and "no," and "an't please you, sir."

Her mouth was wide; no rosebud that could only open just enough to let out a 'yes' and 'no.'


But the wide mouth was one soft curve of rich red lips; and the skin, if not white and fair, was of an ivory smoothness and delicacy.

But the wide mouth was one soft curve of rich red lips; and the skin, if not white, had an ivory smoothness and delicacy.


If the look on her face was, in general, too dignified and reserved for one so young, now, talking to her father, it was bright as the morning,--full of dimples, and glances that spoke of childish gladness, and boundless hope in the future.

If the look on her face was in general too dignified and reserved for one so young, now, talking to her father, it was full of dimples and childish gladness.


It was the latter part of July when Margaret returned home.

It was late July when Margaret returned home.


The forest trees were all one dark, full, dusky green; the fern below them caught all the slanting sunbeams; the weather was sultry and broodingly still.

The forest trees were a dark, dusky green; the ferns below them caught the slanting sunbeams; the weather was broodingly still.


Margaret used to tramp along by her father's side, crushing down the fern with a cruel glee, as she felt it yield under her light foot, and send up the fragrance peculiar to it--out on the broad commons into the warm scented light, seeing multitudes of wild, free, living creatures, revelling in the sunshine, and the herbs and flowers it called forth.

Margaret used to tramp along by her father's side, crushing down the ferns with her light foot - out on to the broad commons into the warm scented light, seeing multitudes of wild, free, living creatures, revelling in the sunshine and the flowers.


This life--at least these walks--realised all Margaret's anticipations.


She made hearty friends with them; learned and delighted in using their peculiar words; took up her freedom amongst them; nursed their babies; talked or read with slow distinctness to their old people; carried dainty messes to their sick; resolved before long to teach at the school where her father went regularly every day as to an appointed task, but she was continually tempted off to go and see some individual friend--man, woman, or child--in some cottage in the green shade of the forest.

She made friends with them; delighted in using their peculiar words; nursed their babies; talked or read with slow distinctness to their old people; carried dainty messes to their sick; and resolved before long to teach at the school, where her father went every day; but she was continually tempted off to go and see some friend in some cottage in the green shade of the forest.


With the healthy shame of a child, she blamed herself for her keenness of sight in perceiving that all was not as it should be there.

She perceived that all was not as it should be there.


Her mother--her mother always so kind and tender towards her--seemed now and then so much discontented with their situation; thought that the bishop strangely neglected his episcopal duties, in not giving Mr. Hale a better living; and almost reproached her husband because he could not bring himself to say that he wished to leave the parish, and undertake the charge of a larger.

Her mother, always kind and tender towards her, seemed discontented with their situation; thought that the bishop was strangely neglectful in not giving Mr. Hale a better living; and almost reproached her husband because he did not wish to leave the parish to go to a larger one.


He would sigh aloud as he answered, that if he could do what he ought in little Helstone, he should be thankful; but every day he was more overpowered; the world became more bewildering.

He would sigh that if he could do what he ought in little Helstone, he should be thankful; but every day he was more overpowered; the world became more bewildering.


At each repeated urgency of his wife, that he would put himself in the way of seeking some preferment, Margaret saw that her father shrank more and more; and she strove at such times to reconcile her mother to Helstone.

When his wife urged him to seek preferment, Margaret saw that her father shrank more and more; and she strove to reconcile her mother to Helstone.


Mrs. Hale said that the near neighbourhood of so many trees affected her health; and Margaret would try to tempt her forth on to the beautiful, broad, upland, sun-streaked, cloud-shadowed common; for she was sure that her mother had accustomed herself too much to an in-doors life, seldom extending her walks beyond the church, the school, and the neighbouring cottages.

Mrs. Hale said that the nearness of so many trees affected her health, so Margaret would try to tempt her on to the beautiful, broad, sun-streaked common, for she was sure that her mother had become too used to an indoors life.


This did good for a time; but when the autumn drew on, and the weather became more changeable, her mother's idea of the unhealthiness of the place increased; and she repined even more frequently that her husband, who was more learned than Mr. Hume, a better parish priest than Mr. Houldsworth, should not have met with the preferment that these two former neighbours of theirs had done.

This did good for a time; but when the autumn drew on, and the weather became changeable, her mother's idea of the unhealthiness of the place increased; and she resumed her complaints.


This marring of the peace of home, by long hours of discontent, was what Margaret was unprepared for.

Margaret was unprepared for this marring of the peace of home.


She knew, and had rather revelled in the idea, that she should have to give up many luxuries, which had only been troubles and trammels to her freedom in Harley Street.

She had rather revelled in the idea of giving up the luxuries of Harley Street.


Her keen enjoyment of every sensuous pleasure was balanced finely, if not overbalanced, by her conscious pride in being able to do without them all, if need were.


But the cloud never comes in that quarter of the horizon from which we watch for it.

But the cloud never comes from that part of the sky where we watch for it.


There had been slight complaints and passing regrets on her mother's part, over some trifle connected with Helstone, and her father's position there, when Margaret had been spending her holidays at home before; but in the general happiness of the recollection of those times, she had forgotten the small details which were not so pleasant.

There had been slight complaints from her mother about Helstone during Margaret's holidays at home before; but in the general happiness of the memory of those times, she had forgotten the small, less pleasant details.


In the latter half of September, the autumnal rains and storms came on, and Margaret was obliged to remain more in the house than she had hitherto done.

In late September, the autumnal rains and storms came on, and Margaret had to stay in the house more.


Helstone was at some distance from any neighbours of their own standard of cultivation.

Helstone was at some distance from any neighbours of their own standing.


"It is undoubtedly one of the most out-of-the-way places in England," said Mrs. Hale, in one of her plaintive moods.

'It is undoubtedly one of the most out-of-the-way places in England,' said Mrs. Hale plaintively.


"I can't help regretting constantly that papa has really no one to associate with here; he is so thrown away; seeing no one but farmers and labourers from week's end to week's end.

'Papa has no one to associate with here; he is thrown away, seeing no one but farmers and labourers.


If we only lived at the other side of the parish, it would be something; there we should be almost within walking distance of the Stansfields; certainly the Gormons would be within a walk."

If we lived at the other side of the parish, it would be something; we should be almost within walking distance of the Stansfields, and certainly the Gormans.'


"Gormons," said Margaret, "Are those the Gormons who made their fortunes in trade at Southampton?

'Gormans,' said Margaret. 'Are those the Gormans who made their fortunes in trade at Southampton?


I think we are far better off, knowing only cottagers and labourers, and people without pretence."

I think we are far better off, knowing only cottagers and labourers, and people without pretence.'


"You must not be so fastidious, Margaret, dear!"

'You must not be so fastidious, Margaret, dear!'


said her mother, secretly thinking of a young and handsome Mr. Gormon whom she had once met at Mr. Hume's.

said her mother, secretly thinking of a young and handsome Mr. Gorman whom she had once met.


I call mine a very comprehensive taste; I like all people whose occupations have to do with land; I like soldiers and sailors, and the three learned professions, as they call them.

I call mine a very comprehensive taste. I like all people whose occupations have to do with land; I like soldiers and sailors, and the three learned professions - the church, law and medicine.


I'm sure you don't want me to admire butchers and bakers, and candlestick-makers, do you, mamma?"

I'm sure you don't want me to admire butchers and bakers, and candlestick-makers, do you, mamma?'


"But the Gormons were neither butchers nor bakers, but very respectable coach-builders."

'But the Gormans were neither butchers nor bakers, but very respectable coach-builders.'


Coach-building is a trade all the same, and I think a much more useless one than that of butchers or bakers.

'Coach-building is a trade all the same, and a much more useless one than that of butchers or bakers.


how tired I used to be of the drives every day in Aunt Shaw's carriage, and how I longed to walk!"

how tired I used to be of the drives every day in Aunt Shaw's carriage, and how I longed to walk!'


And walk Margaret did, in spite of the weather.


She was so happy out of doors, at her father's side, that she almost danced; and with the soft violence of the west wind behind her, as she crossed some heath, she seemed to be borne onwards, as lightly and easily as the fallen leaf that was wafted along by the autumnal breeze.

She was so happy out of doors, at her father's side, that she almost danced; and with the soft violence of the west wind behind her, she seemed to be borne over the heath as lightly and easily as a fallen leaf wafted by the autumn breeze.


But the evenings were rather difficult to fill up agreeably.


Immediately after tea her father withdrew into his small library, and she and her mother were left alone.


Mrs. Hale had never cared much for books, and had discouraged her husband, very early in their married life, in his desire of reading aloud to her, while she worked.

Mrs. Hale had never cared much for books, and had always discouraged her husband from reading aloud to her.


At one time they had tried backgammon as a resource; but as Mr. Hale grew to take an increasing interest in his school and his parishioners, he found that the interruptions which arose out of these duties were regarded as hardships by his wife, not to be accepted as the natural conditions of his profession, but to be regretted and struggled against by her as they severally arose.

At one time they had tried backgammon; but as Mr. Hale took an increasing interest in his school and his parishioners, he found that the resulting interruptions were resented by his wife.


So he withdrew, while the children were yet young, into his library, to spend his evenings (if he were at home), in reading the speculative and metaphysical books which were his delight.

So he withdrew into his library, to spend his evenings at home in reading the speculative and metaphysical books which were his delight.


When Margaret had been here before, she had brought down with her a great box of books, recommended by masters or governess, and had found the summer's day all too short to get through the reading she had to do before her return to town.

When Margaret had been here before, she had brought down with her a great box of books, recommended by masters or governesses, and had found the summer's day too short to get through her reading.


Now there were only the well-bound, little-read English Classics, which were weeded out of her father's library to fill up the small book-shelves in the drawing-room.

Now there were only the well-bound little-read English Classics on the small bookshelves in the drawing-room.


Thomson's Season's, Hayley's Cowper, Middleton's Cicero, were by far the lightest, newest, and most amusing.

Thomson's Seasons and Middleton's Cicero were the lightest, newest, and most amusing.


The book-shelves did not afford much resource.


Margaret told her mother every particular of her London life, to all of which Mrs. Hale listened with interest, sometimes amused and questioning, at others a little inclined to compare her sister's circumstances of ease and comfort with the narrower means at Helstone Vicarage.

Margaret told her mother every detail of her London life, to which Mrs. Hale listened with interest; sometimes amused, but at other times inclined to compare her sister's comfortable life with the narrower means at Helstone vicarage.


On such evenings Margaret was apt to stop talking rather abruptly, and listen to the drip-drip of the rain upon the leads of the little bow window.

On such evenings Margaret was apt to stop talking rather abruptly, and listen to the drip-drip of the rain.


Once or twice Margaret found herself mechanically counting the repetition of the monotonous sound, while she wondered if she might venture to put a question on a subject very near to her heart, and ask where Frederick was now; what he was doing; how long it was since they had heard from him.

Once or twice she wondered if she might venture a question on a subject very near to her heart, and ask where Frederick was now; what he was doing; how long it was since they had heard from him.


But a consciousness that her mother's delicate health and positive dislike to Helstone, all dated from the time of the mutiny in which Frederick had been engaged--the full account of which Margaret had never heard, and which now seemed doomed to be buried in sad oblivion,--made her pause and turn away from the subject each time she approached it.

But she was aware that her mother's delicate health, and dislike of Helstone, dated from the time of the mutiny in which Frederick had been involved - the full account of which Margaret had never heard, and which now seemed doomed to be buried in sad oblivion. So she turned away from the subject.


When she was with her mother, her father seemed the best person to apply to for information; and when with him, she thought that she could speak more easily to her mother.

Her father seemed the best person to ask for information; though when she was with him, she thought that she could speak more easily to her mother.


Probably there was nothing much to be heard that was new.


In one of the letters she had received before leaving Harley Street, her father had told her that they had heard from Frederick; he was still at Rio, and very well in health, and sent his best love to her; which was dry bones, but not the living intelligence she longed for.

In one of the letters she had received at Harley Street, her father had told her that they had heard from Frederick. He was still at Rio, and very well in health, and sent his best love; which was dry bones, but not the living news she longed for.


Frederick was always spoken of, in the rare times when his name was mentioned, as "Poor Frederick."

Frederick was always spoken of as 'Poor Frederick.'


His room was kept exactly as he had left it; and was regularly dusted, and put into order by Dixon, Mrs. Hale's maid, who touched no other part of the household work, but always remembered the day when she had been engaged by Lady Beresford as ladies' maid to Sir John's wards, the pretty Miss Beresfords, the belles of Rutlandshire.

His room was kept exactly as he had left it; and was regularly dusted by Dixon, Mrs. Hale's maid, who did no other housework, but remembered the day when she had been engaged by Lady Beresford as maid to the pretty Miss Beresfords.


Dixon had always considered Mr. Hale as the blight which had fallen upon her young lady's prospects in life.

Dixon had always considered Mr. Hale as the blight which had fallen upon her young lady's prospects.


If Miss Beresford had not been in such a hurry to marry a poor country clergyman there was no knowing what she might have become.

If Miss Beresford had not been in such a hurry to marry a poor country clergyman, there was no knowing what she might not have become.


But Dixon was too loyal to desert her in her affliction and downfall (alas, her married life).

But Dixon was too loyal to desert her in her affliction and downfall (alias her married life).


She remained with her, and was devoted to her interests; always considering herself as the good and protecting fairy, whose duty it was to baffle the malignant giant, Mr. Hale.


Master Frederick had been her favourite and pride; and it was with a little softening of her dignified look and manner, that she went in weekly to arrange the chamber as carefully as if he might be coming home that very evening.

Master Frederick had been her favourite; and her dignified manner softened when she went in to arrange his room as carefully as if he might be coming home that very evening.


Margaret could not help believing that there had been some late intelligence of Frederick, unknown to her mother, which was making her father anxious and uneasy.

Margaret could not help believing that there had been some news of Frederick, unknown to her mother, which was making her father anxious.


Mrs. Hale did not seem to perceive any alteration in her husband's looks or ways.

Mrs. Hale did not seem to perceive any change in her husband.


His spirits were tender and gentle, readily affected by any small piece of intelligence concerning the welfare of others.

His spirits were always easily affected by the welfare of others.


He would be depressed for many days after witnessing a death-bed, or hearing of any crime.

He would be depressed for many days after witnessing a death-bed, or hearing of a crime.


But now Margaret noticed an absence of mind, as if his thoughts were pre-occupied by some subject, the oppression of which could not be relieved by any daily action, such as comforting the survivors, or teaching at the school in hope of lessening the evils in the generation to come.

But now Margaret noticed an absence of mind, as if his thoughts were pre-occupied.


Mr. Hale did not go out among his parishioners as much as usual; he was more shut up in his study; was anxious for the village postman, whose summons to the household was a rap on the back-kitchen window shutter--a signal which at one time had often to be repeated before any one was sufficiently alive to the hour of the day to understand what it was, and attend to him.

Mr. Hale did not go out among his parishioners as much as usual; he was more shut up in his study, and anxious for the village postman to call.


Now Mr. Hale loitered about the garden if the morning was fine, and if not, stood dreamily by the study window until the postman had called, or gone down the lane, giving a half-respectful, half-confidential shake of the head to the parson, who watched him away from the sweet-briar hedge, and past the great arbutus, before he turned into the room to begin his day's work, with all the signs of a heavy heart and an occupied mind.

He loitered about the garden or stood dreamily by the study window until the postman had been. Then he turned into the room to begin his day's work, with all the signs of a heavy heart and an occupied mind.


But Margaret was at an age when any apprehension, not absolutely based on a knowledge of facts, is easily banished for a time by a bright sunny day, or some happy outward circumstance.

But Margaret was at an age when any fears are easily banished by a bright sunny day.


And when the brilliant fourteen fine days of October came on, her cares were all blown away as lightly as thistledown, and she thought of nothing but the glories of the forest.

And when the fine days of October came on, her cares were all blown away as lightly as thistledown, and she thought of nothing but the glories of the forest.


The fern-harvest was over; and now that the rain was gone, many a deep glade was accessible, into which Margaret had only peeped in July and August weather.

The fern-harvest was over, and now that the rain was gone, many a deep glade was accessible.


She had learnt drawing with Edith; and she had sufficiently regretted, during the gloom of the bad weather, her idle revelling in the beauty of the woodlands, while it had yet been fine, to make her determined to sketch what she could before winter fairly set in.

Margaret had learnt drawing with Edith; and now decided to sketch what she could before winter set in.


Accordingly, she was busy preparing her board one morning, when Sarah, the housemaid, threw wide open the drawing-room door, and announced, "Mr. Henry Lennox."

Accordingly, she was preparing her board one morning, when Sarah, the housemaid, threw wide open the drawing-room door and announced, 'Mr. Henry Lennox.'


"For never any thing can be amiss When simpleness and duty tender it."


Mr. Thornton went straight and clear into all the interests of the following day.


There was a slight demand for finished goods; and as it affected his branch of the trade, he took advantage of it, and drove hard bargains.

There was a slight demand for goods; he took advantage of it, and drove hard bargains.


He was sharp to the hour at the meeting of his brother magistrates,--giving them the best assistance of his strong sense, and his power of seeing consequences at a glance, and so coming to a rapid decision.

He met his brother magistrates, aiding them with his strong sense, and his power of seeing consequences at a glance, and so coming to a rapid decision.


Older men, men of long standing in the town, men of far greater wealth--realised and turned into land, while his was all floating capital, engaged in his trade--looked to him for prompt, ready wisdom. He was the one deputed to see and arrange with the police--to lead in all the requisite steps.

Older men of long standing and far greater wealth looked to him for ready wisdom and leadership.


And he cared for their unconscious deference no more than for the soft west wind, that scarcely made the smoke from the great tall chimneys swerve in its straight upward course.

And he cared nothing for their unconscious deference.


He was not aware of the silent respect paid to him.


If it had been otherwise, he would have felt it as an obstacle in his progress to the object he had in view. As it was, he looked to the speedy accomplishment of that alone.

If he had been, he would have felt it as an obstacle to all he wished to accomplish alone.


It was his mother's greedy ears that sucked in, from the womenkind of these magistrates and wealthy men, how highly Mr. This or Mr. That thought of Mr. Thornton: that if he had not been there, things would have gone on very differently,--very badly, indeed.


He swept off his business right and left that day.


It seemed as though his deep mortification of yesterday, and the stunned purposeless course of the hours afterwards, had cleared away all the mists from his intellect.

It seemed as though his deep mortification of yesterday, and the stunned purposeless hours afterwards, had cleared away the mists from his intellect.


He could almost defy his heart, and vow that he did not care for anybody.


If he had known it, he could have sang the song of the miller who lived by the river Dee:--


"I care for nobody-- Nobody cares for me."


The evidence against Boucher, and other ring-leaders of the riot, was taken before him: that against the three others, for conspiracy, failed.

The evidence against Boucher, and the ringleaders of the riot, was taken before him, as a magistrate.


But he sternly charged the police to be on the watch; for the swift right arm of the law should be in readiness to strike, as soon as they could prove a fault.

The evidence against others, for conspiracy, failed; but he sternly charged the police to be on the watch for any fault that they could prove.


And then he left the hot reeking room in the borough court, and went out into the fresher, but still sultry street.

And then he left the hot reeking room of the borough court, and went out into the sultry street.


It seemed as though he gave way all at once; he was so languid that he could not control his thoughts; they would wander to her: they would bring back the scene,--not of his repulse and rejection the day before, but the looks, the actions of the day before that. He went along the crowded streets mechanically, winding in and out among the people, but never seeing them,--almost sick with longing for that one half-hour--that one brief space of time when she clung to him, and her heart beat against his--to come once again.

It seemed as though he gave way all at once. He could not control his thoughts; they would wander to her; they would bring back the scene of the riot, when she clung to him. He went along the crowded streets mechanically, winding amongst people without seeing them - almost sick with longing for that one brief space of time when her heart beat against his.


you're cutting me very coolly, I must say.


We doctors don't like it, I can tell you!"

We doctors don't like it, I can tell you.'


It is a fine day, and good for the harvest, I hope.

It is a good day for the harvest, I hope.


If the wheat is well got in, we shall have a brisk trade next year, whatever you doctors have."

If the wheat is well got in, we shall have a brisk trade next year, whatever you doctors have.'


Your bad weather, and your bad times, are my good ones.


When trade is bad, there's more undermining of health, and preparation for death, going on among you Milton men than you're aware of."

When trade is bad, there's more undermining of health going on among you Milton men than you're aware of.'


The news of the very worst bad debt I ever had, never made my pulse vary. This strike, which affects me more than any one else in Milton,--more than Hamper,--never comes near my appetite.

This strike, which affects me more than anyone else in Milton, harms neither my pulse nor my appetite.


You must go elsewhere for a patient, Doctor."


"By the way, you've recommended me a good patient, poor lady!

'By the way, you've recommended me a good patient, poor lady!


Not to go on talking in this heartless way, I seriously believe that Mrs. Hale--that lady in Crampton, you know--hasn't many weeks to live.

Not to go on talking in this heartless way, I seriously believe that Mrs. Hale hasn't many weeks to live.


I never had any hope of cure, as I think I told you; but I've been seeing her to-day, and I think very badly of her."

I never had any hope of cure, as I told you; but I've seen her today, and she is very ill.'


The vaunted steadiness of pulse failed him for an instant.


"You know--you would see, that money is not very plentiful, are there any comforts or dainties she ought to have?"

'You will have seen that money is not very plentiful; are there any comforts or dainties she ought to have?'


"No," replied the Doctor, shaking his head.


"She craves for fruit,--she has a constant fever on her; but jargonelle pears will do as well as anything, and there are quantities of them in the market."

'She craves for fruit - she has a constant fever; but pears will do as well as anything, and there are quantities of them in the market.'


"You will tell me if there is anything I can do, I'm sure," replied Mr. Thornton.

'You will tell me, if there is anything I can do, I'm sure,' replied Mr. Thornton.


I'll not spare your purse,--I know it's deep enough.


I wish you'd give me a carte-blanche for all my patients, and all their wants."

I wish you'd give me carte-blanche for all my patients' wants.'


But Mr. Thornton had no general benevolence,--no universal philanthropy; few even would have given him credit for strong affections.

However, Mr. Thornton had no general benevolence.


But he went straight to the first fruit-shop in Milton, and chose out the bunch of purple grapes with the most delicate bloom upon them,--the richest-coloured peaches,--the freshest vine-leaves.

But he went straight to the best fruit-shop in Milton, and chose the most perfect bunch of purple grapes - the richest-coloured peaches - the freshest vine-leaves.


They were packed into a basket, and the shopman awaited the answer to his inquiry, "Where shall we send them to, sir?"

They were packed into a basket.
'Where shall we send them to, sir?' the shopman asked.


It took up both his hands to carry it; and he had to pass through the busiest part of the town for feminine shopping.

It took both his hands to carry it; and he had to pass through the busiest shopping streets of the town.


Many a young lady of his acquaintance turned to look after him, and thought it strange to see him occupied just like a porter or an errand-boy.

Many a young lady he knew turned to look after him, on seeing him occupied like an errand-boy.


He was thinking, "I will not be daunted from doing as I choose by the thought of her.

He was thinking, 'I will not be daunted from doing as I choose by the thought of her.


I like to take this fruit to the poor mother, and it is simply right that I should.

I like to take this fruit to the poor mother, and it is right that I should.


She shall never scorn me out of doing what I please.


A pretty joke, indeed, if, for fear of a haughty girl, I failed in doing a kindness to a man I liked!


I do it for Mr. Hale; I do it in defiance of her."

I do it for Mr. Hale; I do it in defiance of her.'


He went at an unusual pace, and was soon at Crampton.


He went upstairs two steps at a time, and entered the drawing-room before Dixon could announce him,--his face flushed, his eyes shining with kindly earnestness.

He went upstairs two steps at a time, and entered the drawing-room before Dixon could announce him - his face flushed, his eyes shining with kindly earnestness.


Mrs. Hale lay on the sofa, heated with fever.


Margaret was working on a low stool by her mother's side.

Margaret was sewing on a low stool by her mother's side.


Her heart fluttered, if his did not at this interview. But he took no notice of her,--hardly of Mr. Hale himself; he went up straight with his basket to Mrs. Hale, and said, in that subdued and gentle tone, which is so touching when used by a robust man in full health, speaking to a feeble invalid,--

Her heart fluttered; but he took no notice of her. He went straight with his basket to Mrs. Hale, and said, in that subdued and gentle tone, which is so touching when used by a robust man speaking to an invalid:


"I met Dr. Donaldson, ma'am, and as he said fruit would be good for you, I have taken the liberty--the great liberty--of bringing you some that seemed to me fine."

'I met Dr. Donaldson, ma'am, and as he said fruit would be good for you, I have taken the great liberty of bringing you some.'


Mrs. Hale was excessively pleased; quite in a tremble of eagerness. Mr. Hale with fewer words expressed a deeper gratitude.

Mrs. Hale was excessively surprised and pleased; Mr. Hale expressed deep gratitude.


"Fetch a plate, Margaret--a basket--anything."


Margaret stood up by the table, half afraid of moving or making any noise to arouse Mr. Thornton into a consciousness of her being in the room.

Margaret stood up, half afraid of moving or causing any noise to make Mr. Thornton aware that she was in the room.


She thought it would be awkward for both to be brought into conscious collision: and fancied that, from her being on a low seat at first, and now standing behind her father, he had overlooked her in his haste.

She thought it would be awkward for both; and fancied that, from her being on a low seat behind her father, he had overlooked her in his haste.


As if he did not feel the consciousness of her presence all over, though his eyes had never rested on her!

As if he did not feel the consciousness of her presence all over!


If you will forgive this liberty,--my rough ways,--too abrupt, I fear--but I will be more gentle next time.

If you will forgive this liberty - my rough ways - too abrupt, I fear - I will be more gentle next time.


You will allow me the pleasure of bringing you some fruit again, if I should see any that is tempting.


She went for a plate in silence, and lifted the fruit out tenderly, with the points of her delicate taper fingers.

She went for a plate in silence, and lifted the fruit out tenderly, with her delicate fingers.


It was good of him to bring it; and after yesterday too!


'Margaret love, only taste these grapes!


said Mrs. Hale, rather querulously, "you won't like anything Mr. Thornton does.

said Mrs. Hale, rather querulously, 'you won't like anything Mr. Thornton does.


Mr. Hale had been peeling a peach for his wife; and, cutting off a small piece for himself, he said:

Mr. Hale peeled a peach for his wife; and, cutting off a small piece for himself, he said:


"If I had any prejudices, the gift of such delicious fruit as this would melt them away.


I have not tasted such fruit--no! not even in Hampshire--since I was a boy; and, to boys, I fancy, all fruit is good.

'I have not tasted such fruit since I was a boy; and to boys, I fancy, all fruit is good.


I remember eating sloes and crabs with a relish.

I remember eating sloes and crab-apples with relish.


Do you remember the matted-up currant bushes, Margaret, at the corner of the west-wall at the garden at home?"

Do you remember the currant bushes, Margaret, in the garden at home?'


Did she not remember every weather-stain on the old stone wall; the gray and yellow lichens that marked it like a map; the little crane's-bill that grew in the crevices?

Did she not remember every weather-stain on the old stone wall; the grey and yellow lichens that marked it like a map; the little crane's-bill that grew in the crevices?


She had been shaken by the events of the last two days; her whole life just now was a strain upon her fortitude; and, somehow, these careless words of her father's, touching on the remembrance of the sunny times of old, made her start up, and, dropping her sewing on the ground, she went hastily out of the room into her own little chamber.

She had been shaken by the events of the last two days; and, somehow, these careless words of her father's, about the sunny times of old, made her start up.
Dropping her sewing, she went hastily out of the room into her own little chamber.


She had hardly given way to the first choking sob, when she became aware of Dixon standing at her drawers, and evidently searching for something.

She had hardly given way to the first choking sob, when she became aware of Dixon standing at her chest of drawers, searching for something.


Only I'm silly, Dixon, and want a glass of water.


Dixon did not speak, but went on rummaging.


The scent of lavender came out and perfumed the room.


At last Dixon found what she wanted; what it was Margaret could not see.

At last Dixon found what she wanted; what it was, Margaret could not see.


"Now I don't like telling what I wanted, because you've fretting enough to go through, and I know you'll fret about this.

'Now I don't like telling you what I wanted, because you're fretting enough, and I know you'll fret about this.


I meant to have kept it from you till night, may be, or such times as that."

I meant to have kept it from you till night.'


"That young woman you go to see--Higgins I mean."

'That young woman you go to see - Higgins, I mean.'


she died this morning, and her sister is here--come to beg a strange thing.

she died this morning, and her sister is here - come to beg a strange thing.


It seems, the young woman who died had a fancy for being buried in something of yours, and so the sister's come to ask for it,--and I was looking for a night-cap that wasn't too good to give away."

It seems the young woman had a fancy for being buried in something of yours, and so the sister's come to ask for it; and I was looking for a night-cap that wasn't too good to give away.'


let me find one," said Margaret, in the midst of her tears.

let me find one,' said Margaret, in the midst of her tears.


I never thought I should not see her again."

I never thought I should not see her again.'


This girl downstairs wanted me to ask you, if you would like to see her."

This girl downstairs wanted me to ask you if you would like to see her.'


"I should never have asked you, if you hadn't come in.


"I will go down and speak to her," said Margaret, afraid lest Dixon's harshness of manner might wound the poor girl.

'I will go down and speak to her,' said Margaret.


So, taking the cap in her hand, she went to the kitchen.

Taking the cap in her hand, she went to the kitchen.


Mary's face was all swollen with crying, and she burst out afresh when she saw Margaret.

Mary's face was swollen with crying, and she burst out afresh when she saw Margaret.


"Oh, ma'am, she loved yo', she loved yo', she did indeed!"

'Oh, ma'am, she loved yo', she loved yo', she did indeed!'


And for a long time, Margaret could not get her to say anything more than this.


At last, her sympathy, and Dixon's scolding, forced out a few facts.


Nicholas Higgins had gone out in the morning, leaving Bessy as well as on the day before.


But in an hour she was taken worse; some neighbour ran to the room where Mary was working; they did not know where to find her father; Mary had only come in a few minutes before she died.

But in an hour she was taken worse; a neighbour ran to the room where Mary was working; they did not know where to find her father. Mary had only come in a few minutes before she died.


"It were a day or two ago she axed to be buried in somewhat o' yourn.

'It were a day or two ago she axed to be buried in somewhat o' yourn.


She used to say yo' were the prettiest thing she ever clapped eyes on.

She used to say yo' were the prettiest thing she'd ever clapped eyes on.


Her last words were 'Give her my affectionate respects; and keep father fro' drink.'

Her last words were, "Give her my affectionate respects; and keep father fro' drink."


She would ha' thought it a great compliment, I know."

She would ha' thought it a great compliment, I know.'


Margaret shrank a little from answering.


Mary shook her head, and stood up to be going.

Mary shook her head, and stood up to go.


"Miss Hale," said Dixon, in a low voice, "where's the use o' your going to see the poor thing laid out?

'Miss Hale,' said Dixon, in a low voice, 'where's the use o' your going to see the poor thing laid out?


I'd never say a word against it, if it could do the girl any good; and I wouldn't mind a bit going myself, if that would satisfy her.

I'd never say a word against it, if it could do the girl any good; but I'd go myself, if that would satisfy her.


They've just a notion, these common folks, of its being a respect to the departed.

They've just a notion, these folks, of its being a respect to the departed.


Here," said she, turning sharply round, "I'll come and see your sister.

Here,' said she, turning sharply, 'I'll come and see your sister.


Miss Hale is busy, and she can't come, or else she would."


Dixon's coming might be a compliment, but it was not the same thing to the poor sister, who had had her little pangs of jealousy, during Bessy's lifetime, at the intimacy between her and the young lady.

Dixon's coming might be a compliment, but it was not the same thing to the poor sister, who had had her little pangs of jealousy at the intimacy between Bessy and the young lady.


"I will go. Mary, you shall see me this afternoon."


And for fear of her own cowardice, she went away, in order to take from herself any chance of changing her determination.

And for fear of her own cowardice, she went away, so that she could not change her mind.


"Experience, like a pale musician, holds A dulcimer of patience in his hand; Whence harmonies we cannot understand, Of God's will in His worlds, the strain unfolds In sad, perplexed minors."


About this time Dixon returned from Milton, and assumed her post as Margaret's maid. She brought endless pieces of Milton gossip: How Martha had gone to live with Miss Thornton, on the latter's marriage; with an account of the bridesmaids, dresses and breakfasts, at that interesting ceremony; how people thought that Mr. Thornton had made too grand a wedding of it, considering he had lost a deal by the strike, and had had to pay so much for the failure of his contracts; how little money articles of furniture--long cherished by Dixon--had fetched at the sale, which was a shame considering how rich folks were at Milton; how Mrs. Thornton had come one day and got two or three good bargains, and Mr. Thornton had come the next, and in his desire to obtain one or two things, had bid against himself, much to the enjoyment of the bystanders, so as Dixon observed, that made things even; if Mrs. Thornton paid too little, Mr. Thornton paid too much.

About this time Dixon returned from Milton, bringing endless pieces of gossip: how Martha had gone to live with Miss Thornton, on the latter's marriage, with an account of bridesmaids, dresses and breakfasts; how people thought that Mr. Thornton had made too grand a wedding of it, considering he had lost a deal by the strike, and had had to pay so much for the failure of his contracts; how little money the Hales' furniture had fetched at the sale; how Mrs. Thornton had come one day and got two or three good bargains, and Mr. Thornton had come the next, and in his desire to buy one or two things, had bid against himself, much to the enjoyment of the bystanders.


Mr. Bell had sent all sorts of orders about the books; there was no understanding him, he was so particular; if he had come himself it would have been all right, but letters always were and always will be more puzzling than they are worth.

Mr. Bell had sent all sorts of orders about the books which she could not understand, his letters were so puzzling.


Dixon had not much to tell about the Higginses.


Her memory had an aristocratic bias, and was very treacherous whenever she tried to recall any circumstance connected with those below her in life.


He had been several times at the house asking for news of Miss Margaret--the only person who ever did ask, except once Mr. Thornton.

He had been several times at the house asking for news of Miss Margaret - the only person who ever did ask, except once Mr. Thornton.


of course she was very well, a great, stout, slatternly thing!


She did hear, or perhaps it was only a dream of hers, though it would be strange if she had dreamt of such people as the Higginses, that Mary had gone to work at Mr. Thornton's mill, because her father wished her to know how to cook; but what nonsense that could mean she didn't know.

She did hear that Mary had gone to work at Mr. Thornton's mill, because her father wished her to know how to cook; but what nonsense that could mean she didn't know.


Margaret rather agreed with her that the story was incoherent enough to be like a dream.

Margaret rather agreed with her that the story was incoherent.


Still it was pleasant to have some one now with whom she could talk of Milton, and Milton people.

Still, it was pleasant to have someone with whom she could talk of Milton.


Dixon was not over-fond of the subject, rather wishing to leave that part of her life in shadow. She liked much more to dwell upon speeches of Mr. Bell's, which had suggested an idea to her of what was really his intention--making Margaret his heiress.

Dixon was not over-fond of the subject, preferring to dwell upon speeches of Mr. Bell's which had suggested that he would make Margaret his heiress.


But her young lady gave her no encouragement, nor in any way gratified her insinuating enquiries, however disguised in the form of suspicions or assertions.

But her young lady gave her no encouragement in her enquiries.


All this time Margaret had a strange undefined longing to hear that Mr. Bell had gone to pay one of his business visits to Milton; for it had been well understood between them, at the time of their conversation at Helstone, that the explanation she had desired should only be given to Mr. Thornton by word of mouth, and even in that manner should be in nowise forced upon him.

All this time, Margaret had a strange undefined longing to hear that Mr. Bell had gone to pay one of his business visits to Milton, and had been able to speak to Mr. Thornton about her explanation.


Mr. Bell was no great correspondent, but he wrote from time to time long or short letters, as the humour took him, and although Margaret was not conscious of any definite hope, on receiving them, yet she always put away his notes with a little feeling of disappointment.

Mr. Bell was no great correspondent, and when he wrote she read his notes with a little feeling of disappointment.


He was not going to Milton; he said nothing about it at any rate.


Sooner or later the mists would be cleared away.


Mr. Bell's letters were hardly like his usual self; they were short, and complaining, with every now and then a little touch of bitterness that was unusual. He did not look forward to the future; he rather seemed to regret the past, and be weary of the present.

Mr. Bell's letters were hardly like his usual self; they were short, and complaining, with an unusual touch of bitterness and weariness.


Margaret fancied that he could not be well; but in answer to some enquiry of hers as to his health, he sent her a short note, saying there was an oldfashioned complaint called the spleen; that he was suffering from that, and it was for her to decide if it was more mental or physical; but that he should like to indulge himself in grumbling, without being obliged to send a bulletin every time.

Margaret thought that he could not be well; but when she enquired about his health, he sent her a short note, saying there was an old-fashioned complaint called the spleen; that he was suffering from that, and it was for her to decide if it was more mental or physical; but that he should like to indulge himself in grumbling, without being obliged to send a bulletin every time.


In consequence of this note, Margaret made no more enquiries about his health.

After this note, Margaret made no more enquiries about his health.


One day Edith let out accidentally a fragment of a conversation which she had had with Mr. Bell, when he was last in London, which possessed Margaret with the idea that he had some notion of taking her to pay a visit to her brother and new sister-in-law, at Cadiz, in the autumn.

One day Edith let out accidentally a fragment of a conversation which she had had with Mr. Bell, which implied that he had some notion of taking Margaret to see Frederick at Cadiz in the autumn.


She questioned and cross-questioned Edith, till the latter was weary, and declared that there was nothing more to remember; all he had said was that he half-thought he should go, and hear for himself what Frederick had to say about the mutiny; and that it would be a good opportunity for Margaret to become acquainted with her new sister-in-law; that he always went somewhere during the long vacation, and did not see why he should not go to Spain as well as anywhere else.

She cross-questioned Edith, till the latter was weary, and declared that there was nothing more to remember; all he had said was that he half-thought he should go.


Edith hoped Margaret did not want to leave them, that she was so anxious about all this.

Edith hoped Margaret did not want to leave them.


And then, having nothing else particular to do, she cried, and said that she knew she cared much more for Margaret than Margaret did for her.


Margaret comforted her as well as she could, but she could hardly explain to her how this idea of Spain, mere Chteau en Espagne as it might be, charmed and delighted her.

Margaret comforted her, but she could hardly explain how this idea of Spain delighted her.


Edith was in the mood to think that any pleasure enjoyed away from her was a tacit affront, or at best a proof of indifference.

Edith was in the mood to think that any pleasure enjoyed away from her was an affront.


So Margaret had to keep her pleasure to herself, and could only let it escape by the safety-valve of asking Dixon, when she dressed for dinner, if she would not like to see Master Frederick and his new wife very much indeed?

So Margaret resorted to asking Dixon if she would not like to see Master Frederick and his new wife?


"I believe--oh yes, certainly!" said Margaret, a little damped for an instant at this recollection.

'I believe so,' said Margaret, a little damped.


"Then I'm afraid I must say, that my soul is dearer to me than even Master Frederick, his own dear self.

'Then I'm afraid I must say that my soul is dearer to me than even Master Frederick.


I should be in a perpetual terror, Miss, lest I should be converted."

I should be in a perpetual terror, Miss, lest I should be converted.'


"Oh," said Margaret, "I do not know that I am going; and if I go, I am not such a fine lady as to be unable to travel without you.

'Oh' said Margaret, 'If I go, I can travel without you.


dear old Dixon, you shall have a long holiday, if we go.

Dear old Dixon, you shall have a long holiday, if we go.


In the first place, she did not like Margaret's trick of calling her 'dear old Dixon' whenever she was particularly demonstrative.

In the first place, she did not like being called 'dear old Dixon'.


She knew that Miss Hale was apt to call all people that she liked "old," as a sort of term of endearment; but Dixon always winced away from the application of the word to herself, who, being not much past fifty, was, she thought, in the very prime of life.

She knew that Miss Hale used 'old' as a term of endearment; but Dixon winced away from it, thinking herself, at not much past fifty, to be in the very prime of life.


Secondly, she did not like being so easily taken at her word; she had, with all her terror, a lurking curiosity about Spain, the Inquisition, and Popish mysteries.

Secondly, she had a secret lurking curiosity about Spain, and Popish mysteries.


So, after clearing her throat, as if to show her willingness to do away with difficulties, she asked Miss Hale whether she thought, if she took care never to see a priest, or enter into one of their churches, there would be so very much danger of her being converted?

So, after clearing her throat, she asked Miss Hale whether she might be safe from conversion if she took care never to enter one of their churches?


Master Frederick, to be sure, had gone over unaccountably.

Master Frederick, to be sure, had gone over unaccountable.


"I fancy it was love that first predisposed him to conversion," said Margaret, sighing.

'I fancy that was because of love,' said Margaret, sighing.


I can preserve myself from priests, and from churches; but love steals in unawares!

'I can protect myself from churches; but love steals in unawares!


Margaret was afraid of letting her mind run too much upon this Spanish plan.

Margaret was afraid of thinking too much about this Spanish trip.


But it took off her thoughts from too impatiently dwelling upon her desire to have all explained to Mr. Thornton.


Mr. Bell appeared for the present to be stationary at Oxford, and to have no immediate purpose of going to Milton, and some secret restraint seemed to hang over Margaret, and prevent her from even asking, or alluding again to any probability of such a visit on his part.

Mr. Bell appeared to have no immediate plan to go to Milton, and some secret restraint prevented Margaret from asking him when he might visit.


Nor did she feel at liberty to name what Edith had told her of the idea he had entertained,--it might be but for five minutes,--of going to Spain.

Nor did she feel at liberty to ask about his idea of visiting Spain; for he had never mentioned it at Helstone.


He had never named it at Helstone, during all that sunny day of leisure; it was very probably but the fancy of a moment,--but if it were true, what a bright outlet it would be from the monotony of her present life, which was beginning to fall upon her.

It was probably just the fancy of a moment - but what a bright fancy!


One of the great pleasures of Margaret's life at this time was in Edith's boy.

One of the great pleasures of Margaret's life at this time was Edith's boy.


He was the pride and plaything of both father and mother, as long as he was good; but he had a strong will of his own, and as soon as he burst out into one of his stormy passions, Edith would throw herself back in despair and fatigue, and sigh out, "Oh dear, what shall I do with him!

He was the pride and plaything of both father and mother, as long as he was good; but he had a strong will, and as soon as he burst out into a stormy passion, Edith would throw herself back in despair and fatigue, sighing, 'Oh dear, what shall I do with him!


Do, Margaret, please ring the bell for Hanley."

Do, Margaret, please ring the bell for Hanley.'


But Margaret almost liked him better in these manifestations of character than in his good blue-sashed moods.

But Margaret almost liked him better in these moods.


She would carry him off into a room, where they two alone battled it out; she with a firm power which subdued him into peace, while every sudden charm and wile she possessed was exerted on the side of right, until he would rub his little hot and tear-smeared face all over hers, kissing and caressing till he often fell asleep in her arms or on her shoulder.

She would carry him off into a room, where they two alone battled it out; she with a firm power which subdued him into peace, exerting every charm and wile she possessed on the side of right, until he would rub his little tear-smeared face all over hers, caressing her till he often fell asleep on her shoulder.


They gave her a taste of the feeling that she believed would be denied to her for ever.


Mr. Henry Lennox added a new and not disagreeable element to the course of the household life by his frequent presence.

Mr. Henry Lennox's frequent presence added a new element to the household life.


Margaret thought him colder, if more brilliant than formerly; but there were strong intellectual tastes, and much and varied knowledge, which gave flavour to the otherwise rather insipid conversation.

Margaret thought him colder, if more brilliant than formerly; but his intellectual tastes and knowledge gave flavour to the otherwise rather insipid conversation.


Margaret saw glimpses in him of a slight contempt for his brother and sister-in-law, and for their mode of life, which he seemed to consider as frivolous and purposeless.


He once or twice spoke to his brother, in Margaret's presence, in a pretty sharp tone of enquiry, as to whether he meant entirely to relinquish his profession; and on Captain Lennox's reply, that he had quite enough to live upon, she had seen Mr. Lennox's curl of the lip as he said, "And is that all you live for?"

He once asked his brother, in Margaret's presence, whether he meant entirely to give up his profession. On Captain Lennox's reply, that he had quite enough to live upon, Mr. Lennox's lip curled as he said, 'And is that all you live for?'


But the brothers were much attached to each other, in the way that any two persons are, when the one is cleverer and always leads the other, and this last is patiently content to be led.

But the brothers were much attached to each other.


Mr. Lennox was pushing on in his profession; cultivating, with profound calculation, all those connections that might eventually be of service to him; keen-sighted, far-seeing, intelligent, sarcastic, and proud.

Mr. Lennox was pushing on in his profession; cultivating all those connections that might be of use to him; keen-sighted, sarcastic, and proud.


Since the one long conversation relating to Frederick's affairs, which she had with him the first evening in Mr. Bell's presence, she had had no great intercourse with him, further than that which arose out of their close relations with the same household.

Since their one long conversation about Frederick's affairs, she had made only small talk with him.


But this was enough to wear off the shyness on her side, and any symptoms of mortified pride and vanity on his.

But this was enough to wear off the shyness on her side, and any mortified vanity on his.


They met, continually, of course, but she thought that he rather avoided being alone with her; she fancied that he, as well as she, perceived that they had drifted strangely apart from their former anchorage, side by side, in many of their opinions, and all their tastes.

She thought that he rather avoided being alone with her; she fancied that he perceived that they had drifted strangely apart in many of their opinions, and all their tastes.


And yet, when he had spoken unusually well, or with remarkable epigrammatic point, she felt that his eye sought the expression of her countenance first of all, if but for an instant; and that, in the family intercourse which constantly threw them together, her opinion was the one to which he listened with a deference,--the more complete, because it was reluctantly paid, and concealed as much as possible.

And yet, when he had spoken unusually well, she felt that his eye sought her out first of all, if but for an instant; and that, in the family discussion, her opinion was the one to which he listened with deference - the more complete, because it was reluctantly paid, and concealed as much as possible.


we will be calm and strong; Sure, we can master eyes, or cheek, or tongue, Nor let the smallest tell-tale sign appear She ever was, and is, and will be dear."


Edith came into Margaret's bed-room, the first time in her habit, the second ready dressed for dinner.

Edith came into Margaret's bedroom, dressed for dinner.


No one was there at first; the next time Edith found Dixon laying out Margaret's dress on the bed; but no Margaret.

She found Dixon laying out Margaret's dress on the bed; but no Margaret.


not those horrid blue flowers to that dead gold-coloured gown.

not those horrid blue flowers with that dead gold-coloured gown.


Wait a minute, and I will bring you some pomegranate blossoms."

Wait a minute, and I will bring you some pomegranate blossoms.'


And blue always goes with straw-colour."

And blue always goes with straw-colour.'


But Edith had brought the brilliant scarlet flowers before Dixon had got half through her remonstrance.

But Edith had brought the scarlet flowers before Dixon had finished.


asked Edith, as soon as she had tried the effect of the garniture.


"I can't think," she went on, pettishly, "how my aunt allowed her to get into such rambling habits in Milton!

'I can't think how my aunt Hale allowed her to get into such rambling habits when she was in Milton!


I'm sure I'm always expecting to hear of her having met with something horrible among all those wretched places she pokes herself into.

I'm always expecting to hear of her having met with something horrible in those wretched places she pokes herself into.


I should never dare to go down some of those streets without a servant.


Dixon was still huffed about her despised taste; so she replied rather shortly:

Dixon was still huffed about her despised taste; so she replied, rather shortly:


"It's no wonder to my mind, when I hear ladies talk such a deal about ladies--and when they're such fearful, delicate, dainty ladies too--I say it's no wonder to me that there are no longer any saints on earth----"

'It's no wonder to my mind, when they're such fearful, delicate, dainty ladies - it's no wonder to me that there are no longer any saints on earth-'


But how your cheeks are flushed with the heat, poor child!


But only think what that tiresome Henry has done; really, he exceeds brother-in-law's limits.

Only think what that tiresome Henry has done.


Just when my party was made up so beautifully--fitted in so precisely for Mr. Colthurst--there has Henry come, with an apology it is true, and making use of your name for an excuse, and asked me if he may bring that Mr. Thornton of Milton--your tenant, you know--who is in London about some law business.

Just when my party was made up so beautifully - there has Henry come, with an apology it is true, and using your name for an excuse, has asked me if he may bring that Mr. Thornton of Milton - your tenant, you know - who is in London about some law business.


I don't want any," said Margaret, in a low voice.

I don't want any,' said Margaret, in a low voice.


"Dixon can get me a cup of tea here, and I will be in the drawing-room by the time you come up.

'Dixon can get me a cup of tea here, and I will be in the drawing-room by the time you come up.


You do look wretchedly white, to be sure; but that is just the heat, and we can't do without you possibly.

You do look wretchedly white, to be sure; but that is just the heat, and we can't do without you.


They look glorious flames, Margaret, in your black hair.)


You know we planned you to talk about Milton to Mr. Colthurst.


I believe it will be capital, after all.


Mr. Colthurst can pump him well on all the subjects in which he is interested, and it will be great fun to trace out your experiences, and this Mr. Thornton's wisdom, in Mr. Colthurst's next speech in the House.

Mr. Colthurst can pump him, and it will be great fun to trace out your experiences, and this Mr. Thornton's wisdom, in Mr. Colthurst's next speech in parliament.


Really, I think it is a happy hit of Henry's.


I asked him if he was a man one would be ashamed of; and he replied, 'Not if you've any sense in you, my little sister.'

I asked him if Mr. Thornton was a man one would be ashamed of; and he replied, "Not if you've any sense, my little sister."


So I suppose he is able to sound his h's, which is not a common Darkshire accomplishment--eh, Margaret?"

So I suppose he is able to sound his h's - eh, Margaret?'


"Mr. Lennox did not say why Mr. Thornton was come up to town?

'Mr. Lennox did not say why Mr. Thornton was come up to town?


Was it law business connected with the property?"


he's failed, or something of the kind, that Henry told you of that day you had such a headache--what was it?

he's failed, or something of the kind, as Henry told you that day you had such a headache.


Miss Hale does us credit, does she not?)


I wish I was as tall as a queen, and as brown as a gipsy, Margaret."

I wish I was as tall as a queen, and as brown as a gipsy, Margaret.'


'Oh, I really have such a terrible head for law business.


Henry will like nothing better than to tell you all about it.


I know the impression he made upon me was, that Mr. Thornton is very badly off, and a very respectable man, and that I'm to be very civil to him: and as I did not know how, I came to you to ask you to help me.

I gathered that Mr. Thornton is very badly off, and a very respectable man, and that I'm to be very civil to him; so I came to ask you to help me.


And now come down with me, and rest on the sofa for a quarter of an hour."


The privileged brother-in-law came early; and Margaret, reddening as she spoke, began to ask him the questions she wanted to hear answered about Mr. Thornton.

Henry Lennox arrived early. Margaret, reddening, began to ask him about Mr. Thornton.


"He came up about this sub-letting the property--Marlborough Mills, and the house and premises adjoining, I mean.

'He came to London about sub-letting the property - Marlborough Mills, and the house and premises.


He is unable to keep it on; and there are deeds and leases to be looked over and agreements to be drawn up.

He is unable to keep it on; and there are leases to be looked over, and agreements to be drawn up.


I hope Edith will receive him properly; but she was rather put out, as I could see, by the liberty I had taken in begging for an invitation for him.

I hope Edith will receive him properly; she was rather put out when I begged an invitation for him.


But I thought you would like to have some attention shown him: and one would be particularly scrupulous in paying every respect to a man who is going down in the world."

But I thought you would like to have some attention shown him: and one would wish to be scrupulous in paying every respect to a man who is going down in the world.'


He had dropped his voice to speak to Margaret, by whom he was sitting; but as he ended he sprang up, and introduced Mr. Thornton, who had that moment entered, to Edith and Captain Lennox.

As he ended he sprang up, and introduced Mr. Thornton, who had that moment entered, to Edith and Captain Lennox.


Margaret looked with an anxious eye at Mr. Thornton while he was thus occupied.

Margaret looked anxiously at Mr. Thornton.


It was considerably more than a year since she had seen him; and events had occurred to change him much in that time.

It was more than a year since she had seen him; and he had changed in that time.


His fine figure yet bore him above the common height of men; and gave him a distinguished appearance, from the ease of motion which arose out of it, and was natural to him; but his face looked older and careworn; yet a noble composure sate upon it, which impressed those who had just been hearing of his changed position, with a sense of inherent dignity and manly strength.

His fine figure and his height gave him a distinguished appearance, with a natural ease of motion; but his face looked older and care-worn. Yet a noble composure sat upon it, indicating an inner dignity and manly strength.


He was aware, from the first glance he had given round the room, that Margaret was there; he had seen her intent look of occupation as she listened to Mr. Henry Lennox; and he came up to her with the perfectly regulated manner of an old friend.

He was aware from his first glance that Margaret was there; he had seen her intent look as she listened to Mr. Henry Lennox; and he came up to her with the perfectly regulated manner of an old friend.


With his first calm words a vivid colour flashed into her cheeks, which never left them again during the evening.


She did not seem to have much to say to him.


She disappointed him by the quiet way in which she asked what seemed to him to be the merely necessary questions respecting her old acquaintances, in Milton; but others came in--more intimate in the house than he--and he fell into the background, where he and Mr. Lennox talked together from time to time.

She disappointed him by the quiet way in which she asked the necessary questions about her old acquaintances in Milton. Others came in, and he fell back to talk to Mr. Lennox.


"You think Miss Hale looking well," said Mr. Lennox, "don't you?

'You think Miss Hale looking well,' said Mr. Lennox, 'don't you?


Milton didn't agree with her, I imagine; for when she first came to London, I thought I had never seen any one so much changed.

Milton didn't agree with her, I imagine; for when she first came to London, I had never seen anyone so much changed.


Last autumn she was fatigued with a walk of a couple of miles.


On Friday evening we walked up to Hampstead and back.'


Yet on Saturday she looked as well as she does now."


Mr. Colthurst was a very clever man, and a rising member of Parliament.

Mr. Colthurst was a very clever man, and a rising member of parliament.


He had a quick eye at discerning character, and was struck by a remark which Mr. Thornton made at dinner-time. He enquired from Edith who that gentleman was; and, rather to her surprise, she found, from the tone of his "Indeed!"

He was struck by a remark which Mr. Thornton made at dinner, and enquired of Edith who that gentleman was.


that Mr. Thornton of Milton was not such an unknown name to him as she had imagined it would be.

To her surprise, she found that Mr. Thornton of Milton was not such an unknown name to him as she had imagined.


Henry was in good humour, and brought out his dry caustic wit admirably.

Henry was in good humour, and displayed his dry caustic wit admirably.


Mr. Thornton and Mr. Colthurst found one or two mutual subjects of interest, which they could only touch upon then, reserving them for more private after-dinner talk.

Mr. Thornton and Mr. Colthurst found one or two mutual subjects of interest.


Margaret looked beautiful in the pomegranate flowers; and if she did lean back in her chair and speak but little, Edith was not annoyed, for the conversation flowed on smoothly without her.

Margaret looked beautiful in the pomegranate flowers; and if she spoke little, Edith was not annoyed, for the conversation flowed on smoothly without her.


Margaret was watching Mr Thornton's face.

Margaret was watching Mr. Thornton's face.


He never looked at her: so she might study him unobserved, and note the changes which even this short time had wrought in him.

He never looked at her; so she might study him unobserved, and note the changes in him.


Only at some unexpected mot of Mr. Lennox's, his face flashed out into the old look of intense enjoyment: the merry brightness returned to his eyes, the lips just parted to suggest the brilliant smile of former days; and for an instant, his glance instinctively sought hers, as if he wanted her sympathy.

Only once, at some witty remark of Mr. Lennox's, his face flashed out into the old look of intense enjoyment; the merry brightness returned to his eyes, the lips just parted to suggest the brilliant smile of former days; and for an instant, his glance instinctively sought hers.


But when their eyes met, his whole countenance changed; he was grave and anxious once more; and he resolutely avoided even looking near her again during dinner.

But when their eyes met, his whole countenance changed; he was grave and anxious once more. He resolutely avoided looking near her again during dinner.


There were only two ladies beside their own party, and as these were occupied in conversation by her aunt and Edith, when they went up into the drawing-room, Margaret languidly employed herself about some work. Presently the gentlemen came up, Mr. Colthurst and Mr. Thornton in close conversation.

When the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing-room, Mr. Colthurst and Mr. Thornton were in close conversation.


Mr. Lennox drew near to Margaret, and said in a low voice:


"I really think Edith owes me thanks for my contribution to her party.


You've no idea what an agreeable, sensible fellow this tenant of yours is.


He has been the very man to give Colthurst all the facts he wanted coaching in.

He has been the very man to give Colthurst the facts he wanted.


I can't conceive how he contrived to mismanage his affairs."

I can't conceive how he contrived to mismanage his affairs.'


"With his powers and opportunities you would have succeeded," said Margaret.

'With his powers and opportunities you would have succeeded,' said Margaret.


He did not quite relish the tone in which she spoke, although the words but expressed a thought which had passed through his own mind.

He did not quite relish the tone in which she spoke, although the words echoed his own thought.


As he was silent, they caught a swell in the sound of conversation going on near the fire-place between Mr. Colthurst and Mr. Thornton.

As he was silent, they caught some of the conversation going on between Mr. Colthurst and Mr. Thornton.


"I assure you, I heard it spoken of with great interest--curiosity as to its result, perhaps I should rather say.

'I assure you, I heard it spoken of with great interest as to its result.


I heard your name frequently mentioned during my short stay in the neighbourhood."

I heard your name frequently mentioned during my stay in the neighbourhood.'


Then they lost some words; and when next they could hear Mr. Thornton was speaking.

Then they lost some words; and when next they could hear, Mr. Thornton was speaking.


"I have not the elements for popularity--if they spoke of me in that way, they were mistaken.

'I have not the elements for popularity.


I fall slowly into new projects; and I find it difficult to let myself be known, even by those whom I desire to know, and with whom I would fain have no reserve.

I fall slowly into new projects; and I find it difficult to let myself be known, even by those whom I desire to know.


Yet, even with all these drawbacks, I felt that I was on the right path, and that, starting from a kind of friendship with one, I was becoming acquainted with many.


The advantages were mutual: we were both unconsciously and consciously teaching each other."

The advantages were mutual: we were both unconsciously and consciously teaching each other.'


I trust you are intending to pursue the same course?"

I trust you are intending to pursue the same course?'


"I must stop Colthurst," said Henry Lennox, hastily.

'I must stop Colthurst,' said Henry Lennox, hastily.


And by an abrupt, yet apropos question, he turned the current of the conversation, so as not to give Mr. Thornton the mortification of acknowledging his want of success and consequent change of position.

And by an abrupt question, he turned the current of the conversation, so as not to give Mr. Thornton the mortification of acknowledging his failure.


But as soon as the newly-started subject had come to a close, Mr. Thornton resumed the conversation just where it had been interrupted, and gave Mr. Colthurst the reply to his inquiry.

But as soon as the newly-started subject had come to a close, Mr. Thornton resumed the conversation just where it had been interrupted, and gave Mr. Colthurst his reply.


"I have been unsuccessful in business, and have had to give up my position as a master.

'I have been unsuccessful in business, and have had to give up my position as a master.


I am on the look-out for a situation in Milton, where I may meet with employment under some one who will be willing to let me go along my own way in such matters as these.

I am on the look out for a situation in Milton, where I may be employed by someone who will be willing to let me go my own way in such matters as these.


I can depend upon myself for having no go-ahead theories that I would rashly bring into practice.


My only wish is to have the opportunity of cultivating some intercourse with the hands beyond the mere 'cash nexus.'

I wish only to have consultation with the hands beyond the mere "cash nexus."


But it might be the point Archimedes sought from which to move the earth, to judge by the importance attached to it by some of our manufacturers, who shake their heads and look grave as soon as I name the one or two experiments that I should like to try."

But I might as well be attempting to move the earth, to judge by the way some of our manufacturers shake their heads and look grave as soon as I mention the experiments that I should like to try.'


"You call them 'experiments' I notice," said Mr. Colthurst, with a delicate increase of respect in his manner.

'You call them "experiments"?' said Mr. Colthurst.


I am not sure of the consequences that may result from them.


I have arrived at the conviction that no mere institutions, however wise, and however much thought may have been required to organise and arrange them, can attach class to class as they should be attached, unless the working out of such institutions bring the individuals of the different classes into actual personal contact.

I believe that no mere institutions, however wise, can attach class to class as they should be attached, unless the individuals of the different classes come into actual personal contact.


Such intercourse is the very breath of life.


A working man can hardly be made to feel and know how much his employer may have laboured in his study at plans for the benefit of his workpeople.

A working man can hardly know how much his employer may have laboured in his study at plans for the benefit of his workpeople.


A complete plan emerges like a piece of machinery, apparently fitted for every emergency. But the hands accept it as they do machinery, without understanding the intense mental labour and forethought required to bring it to such perfection.

A complete plan emerges like a piece of machinery, and the hands accept without understanding the intense effort required to bring it to perfection.


But I would take an idea, the working out of which would necessitate personal intercourse; it might not go well at first, but at every hitch interest would be felt by an increasing number of men, and at last its success in working come to be desired by all, as all had borne a part in the formation of the plan; and even then I am sure that it would lose its vitality, cease to be living, as soon as it was no longer carried on by that sort of common interest which invariably makes people find means and ways of seeing each other, and becoming acquainted with each others' characters and persons, and even tricks of temper and modes of speech.

But I would take an idea, which should be worked out through personal discussion; it might not go well at first, but at every hitch interest would be felt by an increasing number of men, and at last its success would be desired by all who had helped to form the plan.


We should understand each other better, and I'll venture to say we should like each other more."

We should understand each other better, and I'll venture to say we should like each other more.'


"And you think they may prevent recurrence of strikes?"

'And you think this may prevent the recurrence of strikes?'


My utmost expectation only goes as far as this--that they may render strikes not the bitter, venomous sources of hatred they have hitherto been.

At best, it may render strikes less bitter and venomous than they have hitherto been.


A more hopeful man might imagine that a closer and more genial intercourse between classes might do away with strikes.

A more hopeful man might imagine that closer communication between classes might do away with strikes.


Suddenly, as if a new idea had struck him, he crossed over to where Margaret was sitting, and began, without preface, as if he knew she had been listening to all that had passed:


"Miss Hale, I had a round-robin from some of my men--I suspect in Higgins' handwriting--stating their wish to work for me, if ever I was in a position to employ men again on my own behalf.

'Miss Hale, I had a round-robin from some of my men - I suspect in Higgins's handwriting - stating their wish to work for me, if ever I was in a position to employ men again on my own behalf.


I am glad of it," said Margaret, looking up straight into his face with her speaking eyes, and then dropping them under his eloquent glance.

I am glad of it,' said Margaret, looking up straight into his face with her speaking eyes, and then dropping them under his eloquent glance.


He gazed back at her for a minute, as if he did not know exactly what he was about.


Then sighed; and saying, "I knew you would like it," he turned away, and never spoke to her again until he bid her a formal "good night."

Then he sighed; and saying, 'I knew you would like it,' he turned away, and never spoke to her again until he bid her a formal 'good night.'


As Mr. Lennox took his departure, Margaret said, with a blush that she could not repress, and with some hesitation,
"Can I speak to you to-morrow?

As Mr. Lennox took his departure, Margaret said hesitantly, with a blush that she could not repress, 'Can I speak to you tomorrow?


I will come at whatever time you name. You cannot give me a greater pleasure than by making me of any use.


Henry Lennox's eye brightened with exultation.


How she was learning to depend upon him!


It seemed as if any day now might give him the certainty, without having which he had determined never to offer to her again.

It seemed as if any day now might give him the certainty that she would accept him. Without that, he had determined never to offer to her again.


I see my way as birds their trackless way-- I shall arrive!


what time, what circuit first, I ask not: but unless God sends his hail Or blinding fire-balls, sleet, or stifling snow, In some time--his good time--I shall arrive; He guides me and the bird.


So the winter was getting on, and the days were beginning to lengthen, without bringing with them any of the brightness of hope which usually accompanies the rays of a February sun.

So the winter was getting on, and the days were beginning to lengthen, without bringing any brightness of hope.


Mrs. Thornton had of course entirely ceased to come to the house.

Mrs. Thornton had entirely ceased to come to the house.


Mr. Thornton came occasionally, but his visits were addressed to her father, and were confined to the study.

Mr. Thornton came occasionally, but only to visit her father in his study.


Mr. Hale spoke of him as always the same; indeed, the very rarity of their intercourse seemed to make Mr. Hale set only the higher value on it.

Mr. Hale spoke of him always with the same high regard.


And from what Margaret could gather of what Mr. Thornton had said, there was nothing in the cessation of his visits which could arise from any umbrage or vexation. His business affairs had become complicated during the strike, and required closer attention than he had given to them last winter.

And from what Margaret could gather, he had ceased to visit not from any umbrage, but because his business affairs had required close attention since the strike.


Nay, Margaret could even discover that he spoke from time to time of her, and always, as far as she could learn, in the same calm friendly way, never avoiding and never seeking any mention of her name.

Nay, Margaret discovered that he even spoke from time to time of her, always in the same calm, friendly way.


She was not in spirits to raise her father's tone of mind.


The dreary peacefulness of the present time had been preceded by so long a period of anxiety and care--even intermixed with storms--that her mind had lost its elasticity.

The dreary peacefulness of this time had been preceded by so long a period of anxiety and care that her mind had lost its elasticity.