No one was there; and then she was glad she had made herself go, and inspect, for otherwise terrible thoughts would have haunted her dreams.

No one was there; and then she was glad she had made herself go and inspect it, for otherwise terrible thoughts would have haunted her dreams.


And even as it was, she was so trembling and affrighted that she felt she could not walk home along the road, which did indeed seem lonely and dark, as she gazed down upon it from the blaze of the station.

Even as it was, she was so frightened that she felt she could not walk home.


She would wait till the down train passed and take her seat in it.


But what if Leonards recognized her as Frederick's companion!

But what if Leonards recognised her as Frederick's companion!


She peered about, before venturing into the booking-office to take her ticket.

She peered about, before venturing into the booking-office to buy her ticket.


There were only some railway officials standing about; and talking loud to one another.

There were only some railway officials standing about, talking loudly.


"He'll need all his boasted influence to keep his place this time."

'He'll need all his boasted influence to keep his place this time.'


asked another, while Margaret, her back towards them, was counting her change with trembling fingers, not daring to turn round until she heard the answer to this question.

asked another, while Margaret, her back towards them, was counting her change with trembling fingers, not daring to turn round until she heard the answer.


He came in not five minutes ago, with some long story or other about a fall he'd had, swearing awfully: and wanted to borrow some money from me to go to London by the next up-train.

He came in not five minutes ago, with some story or other about a fall he'd had, swearing awfully; and wanted to borrow some money to go to London by the next up-train.


He made all sorts of tipsy promises, but I'd something else to do than listen to him; I told him to go about his business; and he went off at the front door."

I'd better things to do than listen to him; so I told him to go about his business; and he went off.'


"He's at the nearest vaults, I'll be bound," said the first speaker.

'He's at the nearest inn, I'll be bound,' said the first speaker.


"Your money would have gone there too, if you'd been such a fool as to lend it."

'Your money would have gone there too, if you'd been such a fool as to lend it.'


Why, he has never paid me off that five shillings"--and so they went on.

Why, he has never paid me back that five shillings' - and so they went on.


And now all Margaret's anxiety was for the train to come.

Now all Margaret's anxiety was for the train to come.


She hid herself once more in the ladies' waiting-room, and fancied every noise was Leonards' step--every loud and boisterous voice was his.

She hid once more in the ladies' waiting-room, and fancied every noise was Leonards' step - every loud and boisterous voice was his.


But no one came near her until the train drew up; when she was civilly helped into a carriage by a porter, into whose face she durst not look till they were in motion, and then she saw that it was not Leonards'.

But the train drew up; she was civilly helped into a carriage by a porter, at whom she dared not look till they were in motion, and then she saw that it was not Leonards.


"There's iron, they say, in all our blood, And a grain or two perhaps is good; But his, he makes me harshly feel, Has got a little too much of steel."


said Mr. Hale as he returned from showing his guest downstairs; "I could not help watching your face with some anxiety, when Mr. Thornton made his confession of having been a shop-boy.

said Mr. Hale, as he returned from showing his guest downstairs; 'I could not help watching your face with some anxiety, when Mr. Thornton confessed to having been a shop-boy.


I knew it all along from Mr. Bell; so I was aware of what was coming; but I half expected to see you get up and leave the room."

I half expected you to get up and leave the room.'


you don't mean that you thought me so silly?


I really liked that account of himself better than anything else he said.


Everything else revolted me, from its hardness; but he spoke about himself so simply--with so little of the pretence that makes the vulgarity of shop-people, and with such tender respect for his mother, that I was less likely to leave the room then than when he was boasting about Milton, as if there was not such another place in the world; or quietly professing to despise people for careless, wasteful improvidence, without ever seeming to think it his duty to try to make them different,--to give them anything of the training which his mother gave him, and to which he evidently owes his position, whatever that may be.

Everything else revolted me, from its hardness; but he spoke about himself so simply - with so little vulgar pretence, and with such tender respect for his mother, that I was less likely to leave the room then than when he was boasting about Milton; or quietly professing to despise people for improvidence. He did not seem to think it his duty to try to make them different, to give them any of the training which his mother gave him.


his statement of having been a shop-boy was the thing I liked best of all."

his statement of having been a shop-boy was the thing I liked best of all.'


"I am surprised at you, Margaret," said her mother.

'I am surprised at you, Margaret,' said her mother.


"You who were always accusing people of being shoppy at Helstone!

'You, who were always accusing people of being shoppy at Helstone!


I don't think, Mr. Hale, you have done quite right in introducing such a person to us without telling us what he had been.


I really was very much afraid of showing him how much shocked I was at some parts of what he said. His father 'dying in miserable circumstances.'

I was shocked when he said his father died "in miserable circumstances."


Why it might have been in the workhouse."

Why, it might have been in the workhouse.'


"I am not sure it was not worse than being in the workhouse," replied her husband.


"I heard a good deal of his previous life from Mr. Bell before we came here; and as he has told you a part, I will fill up what he left out. His father speculated wildly, failed, and then killed himself, because he could not bear the disgrace.

'I heard a good deal about his previous life from Mr. Bell,' replied her husband; 'so I can tell you that his father speculated wildly, failed, and then killed himself, because he could not bear the disgrace.


All his former friends shrunk from the disclosures that had to be made of his dishonest gambling--wild, hopeless struggles, made with other people's money, to regain his own moderate portion of wealth.

All his former friends shrunk from the family.


No one came forward to help the mother and this boy.

No one came forwards to help the mother and this boy.


There was another child, I believe, a girl; too young to earn money, but of course she had to be kept.

There was another child too, I believe, a younger girl.


At least, no friend came forward immediately, and Mrs. Thornton is not one, I fancy, to wait till tardy kindness comes to find her out.


I knew he had gone into a shop, and that his earnings, with some fragment of property secured to his mother, had been made to keep them for a long time.

I knew he had gone into a shop, and that his earnings supported them.


Mr. Bell said they absolutely lived upon water-porridge for years--how, he did not know; but long after the creditors had given up hope of any payment of old Mr. Thornton's debts (if, indeed, they ever had hoped at all about it, after his suicide), this young man returned to Milton, and went quietly round to each creditor, paying him the first instalment of the money owing to him.

Mr. Bell said they absolutely lived upon water-porridge for years; but long after the creditors had given up hope of receiving any payment of old Mr. Thornton's debts, this young man returned to Milton, and went quietly round to each creditor, paying him the first instalment of the money owing.


No noise--no gathering together of creditors--it was done very silently and quietly, but all was paid at last; helped on materially by the circumstance of one of the creditors, a crabbed old fellow (Mr. Bell says), taking in Mr. Thornton as a kind of partner."

It was done very silently, but all was paid at last; helped because one of the creditors, a crabbed old fellow, took in Mr. Thornton as a kind of partner.'


"What a pity such a nature should be tainted by his position as a Milton manufacturer."

'What a pity such a nature should be tainted by his position as a manufacturer.'


"Oh, papa, by that testing everything by the standard of wealth.

'Oh, papa, by that testing everything by the standard of wealth.


When he spoke of the mechanical powers, he evidently looked upon them only as new ways of extending trade and making money.

He spoke of mechanical power only as a way of making money.


And the poor men around him--they were poor because they were vicious--out of the pale of his sympathies because they had not his iron nature, and the capabilities that it gives him for being rich."

And the poor men around him - they were poor because they were vicious, and had not his iron nature.'


Improvident and self-indulgent were his words."

Improvident and self-indulgent were his words.'


Margaret was collecting her mother's working materials, and preparing to go to bed.

Margaret was about to leave the room and go to bed; but she hesitated.


Just as she was leaving the room, she hesitated--she was inclined to make an acknowledgment which she thought would please her father, but which to be full and true must include a little annoyance.

She wanted to say something which she thought would please her father, but which to be true must include a little annoyance.


"Papa, I do think Mr. Thornton a very remarkable man; but personally I don't like him at all."

'Papa, I do think Mr. Thornton a very remarkable man; but personally I don't like him at all.'


I don't set him up for a hero, or anything of that kind.


Your mother looks sadly tired to-night, Margaret."


Margaret had noticed her mother's jaded appearance with anxiety for some time past, and this remark of her father's sent her up to bed with a dim fear lying like a weight on her heart.

Margaret had noticed her mother's appearance with anxiety for some time, and this remark of her father's sent her up to bed with a dim fear weighing on her heart.


The life in Milton was so different from what Mrs. Hale had been accustomed to live in Helstone, in and out perpetually into the fresh and open air; the air itself was so different, deprived of all revivifying principle as it seemed to be here; the domestic worries pressed so very closely, and in so new and sordid a form, upon all the women in the family, that there was good reason to fear that her mother's health might be becoming seriously affected.

The life in Milton was so different from what Mrs. Hale had been used to in Helstone, with its fresh and open air, and domestic worries pressed so closely, that she feared that her mother's health might be becoming seriously affected.


There were several other signs of something wrong about Mrs. Hale.

There were other signs of something wrong with Mrs. Hale.


She and Dixon held mysterious consultations in her bedroom, from which Dixon would come out crying and cross, as was her custom when any distress of her mistress called upon her sympathy.

She and Dixon held mysterious consultations in her bedroom, from which Dixon would come out crying and cross.


Once Margaret had gone into the chamber soon after Dixon left it, and found her mother on her knees, and as Margaret stole out she caught a few words which were evidently a prayer for strength and patience to endure severe bodily suffering.

Once Margaret had gone into the chamber soon after Dixon left it, and found her mother on her knees. As Margaret stole out again, she caught a few words of a prayer for strength to endure severe bodily suffering.


Margaret yearned to re-unite the bond of intimate confidence which had been broken by her long residence at her aunt Shaw's, and strove by gentle caresses and softened words to creep into the warmest place in her mother's heart.

Margaret yearned for the intimate confidence which had been broken by her long residence at her aunt Shaw's, and strove by gentle caresses and soft words to creep into the warmest place in her mother's heart.


But though she received caresses and fond words back again, in such profusion as would have gladdened her formerly, yet she felt that there was a secret withheld from her, and she believed it bore serious reference to her mother's health.

But though she received caresses and fond words back in plenty, yet she felt that there was a secret withheld from her, and she believed it was about her mother's health.


She lay awake very long this night, planning how to lessen the evil influence of their Milton life on her mother.


A servant to give Dixon permanent assistance should be got, if she gave up her whole time to the search; and then, at any rate, her mother might have all the personal attention she required, and had been accustomed to her whole life.

A servant to help Dixon should be got, if she gave up her whole time to the search; and then, at any rate, her mother might have all the personal attention she required.


Visiting register offices, seeing all manner of unlikely people, and very few in the least likely, absorbed Margaret's time and thoughts for several days.

Visiting agencies and interviewing unlikely people absorbed Margaret's time and thoughts for several days.


One afternoon she met Bessy Higgins in the street, and stopped to speak to her.


Better, I hope, now the wind has changed."


"Better and not better, if yo' know what that means."

'Better and not better, if yo' know what that means.'


"Not exactly," replied Margaret, smiling.

'Not exactly,' replied Margaret, smiling.


"I'm better in not being torn to pieces by coughing o' nights, but I'm weary and tired o' Milton, and longing to get away to the land o' Beulah? and when I think I'm farther and farther off, my heart sinks, and I'm no better; I'm worse."

'I'm better in not being torn to pieces by coughing o'nights, but I'm weary and tired o' Milton, and longing to get away to heaven; and when I think I'm farther off, my heart sinks, and I'm no better; I'm worse.'


Margaret turned round to walk alongside of the girl in her feeble progress homeward.

Margaret turned silently to walk alongside the girl in her feeble progress homeward.


But for a minute or two she did not speak.


For she shrank from death herself, with all the clinging to life so natural to the young and healthy.


Bessy was silent in her turn for a minute or two.


"If yo'd led the life I have, and getten as weary of it as I have, and thought at times, 'maybe it'll last for fifty or sixty years--it does wi' some,'--and got dizzy and dazed, and sick, as each of them sixty years seemed to spin about me, and mock me with its length of hours and minutes, and endless bits o' time--oh, wench!

'If yo'd led the life I have, and getten as weary of it as I have, and thought "maybe it'll last for fifty or sixty years," and got dizzy and sick, as each of them sixty years seemed to spin about me, and mock me with its endless time - oh, wench!


I tell thee thou'd been glad enough when th' doctor said he feared thou'd never see another winter."

Thou'd been glad enough when th' doctor said he feared thou'd never see another winter.'


"Why, Bessy, what kind of a life has yours been?"

'Why, Bessy, what kind of a life has yours been?'


"Nought worse than many others,' I reckon.

'Nought worse than many others, I reckon.'


Only I fretted against it, and they didn't."


You know, I'm a stranger here, so perhaps I'm not so quick at understanding what you mean as if I'd lived all my life at Milton."

You know, I'm a stranger here, so perhaps I'm not so quick at understanding life in Milton.'


"If yo'd ha' come to our house when yo' said yo' would, I could maybe ha' told you.

'If yo'd ha' come to our house when yo' said yo' would, I could maybe ha' told you.


But father says yo're just like th' rest on 'em; its out o' sight out o' mind wi' you."

But father says yo're just like th' rest of 'em; out o' sight, out o' mind.'


"I don't know who the rest are; and I've been very busy; and, to tell the truth, I had forgotten my promise--"

'I don't know who the rest are; and I've been very busy; and, to tell the truth, I had forgotten my promise-'


"I had forgotten what I said for the time," continued Margaret quietly.

'I had forgotten what I said,' continued Margaret quietly.


"I should have thought of it again when I was less busy.

'I should have remembered it when I was less busy.


Bessy gave a quick glance at Margaret's face, to see if the wish expressed was really felt.

Bessy gave a quick glance at Margaret's face.


The sharpness in her eye turned to a wistful longing as she met Margaret's soft and friendly gaze.


"I ha' none so many to care for me; if yo' care yo' may come."


As they turned up into a small court, out of a squalid street, Bessy said,

As they turned up into a small court, opening out of a squalid street, Bessy said,


"Yo'll not be daunted if father's at home, and speaks a bit gruffish at first.

'Yo'll not be daunted if father's at home, and speaks a bit gruffish at first.


He took a mind to ye, yo' see, and he thought a deal o' your coming to see us; and just because he liked yo' he was vexed and put about."

He took a mind to ye, yo' see, and he thought a deal o' your coming to see us; and just because he liked yo' he were vexed.'


But Nicholas was not at home when they entered.


A great slatternly girl, not so old as Bessy, but taller and stronger, was busy at the wash-tub, knocking about the furniture in a rough capable way, but altogether making so much noise that Margaret shrunk, out of sympathy with poor Bessy, who had sat down on the first chair, as if completely tired out with her walk. Margaret asked the sister for a cup of water, and while she ran to fetch it (knocking down the fire-irons, and tumbling over a chair in her way), she unloosed Bessy's bonnet strings, to relieve her catching breath.

A slatternly girl, not so old as Bessy, but taller and stronger, was busy at the wash-tub, knocking about the furniture in a rough capable way. Bessy sat down, exhausted, and Margaret asked this sister for a cup of water. While she ran to fetch it (tumbling over a chair in her way), Margaret unloosed Bessy's bonnet strings, to let her catch her breath.


"Do you think such life as this is worth caring for?"

'Do you think such life as this is worth caring for?'


Margaret did not speak, but held the water to her lips.


Bessy took a long and feverish draught, and then fell back and shut her eyes.

Bessy took a long drink, and then fell back and shut her eyes.


Margaret heard her murmur to herself: "They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more: neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat."

Margaret heard her murmur: 'They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat.'


Margaret bent over and said, "Bessy don't be impatient with your life, whatever it is--or may have been.

Margaret said, 'Bessy, don't be impatient with your life.


Remember who gave it you, and made it what it is!"

Remember who gave it you, and made it what it is!'


She was startled by hearing Nicholas speak behind her; he had come in without her noticing him.

She was startled by hearing Nicholas speak behind her; he had come in without her noticing.


"Now, I'll not have my wench preached to.

'Now, I'll not have my wench preached to.


She's bad enough, as it is, with her dreams and her methodee fancies, and her visions of cities with goulden gates and precious stones.

She's bad enough as it is, with her dreams and her fancies, and her visions of cities with golden gates.


But if it amuses her I let it abe, but I'm none going to have more stuff poured into her."

If it amuses her I let it be, but I'm not going to have more stuff poured into her.'


"But surely," said Margaret, facing round, "you believe in what I said, that God gave her life, and ordered what kind of life it was to be?"

'But surely,' said Margaret, facing him, 'you believe that God gave her life, and ordered what kind of life it was to be?'


"I believe what I see, and no more. That's what I believe, young woman.

'I believe what I see, and no more, young woman.


For I did hear a young lass make an ado about knowing where we lived, and coming to see us.


And my wench here thought a deal about it, and flushed up many a time, when hoo little knew as I was looking at her, at the sound of a strange step.

And my wench here thought a deal about it, and flushed up many a time at the sound of a strange step.


But hoo's come at last,--and hoo's welcome, as long as hoo'll keep from preaching on what hoo knows nought about."

But hoo's come at last - and hoo's welcome, as long as hoo'll keep from preaching on what hoo knows nought about.'


Bessy had been watching Margaret's face; she half sate up to speak now, laying her hand on Margaret's arm with a gesture of entreaty.

Bessy had been watching Margaret's face; she half sat up, laying her hand on Margaret's arm.


"Don't be vexed wi' him--there's many a one thinks like him: many and many a one here. If yo' could hear them speak, yo'd not be shocked at him; he's a rare good man, is father--but oh!"

'Don't be vexed wi' him - there's many a one thinks like him; and he's a rare good man, is father - but oh!'


said she, falling back in despair, "what he says at times makes me long to die more than ever, for I want to know so many things, and am so tossed about wi' wonder."

said she, falling back in despair, 'what he says at times makes me long to die more than ever, for I want to know so many things, and am so tossed about wi' wonder.'


"Poor wench--poor old wench--I'm loth to vex thee, I am; but a man mun speak out for the truth, and when I see the world going all wrong at this time o' day, bothering itself wi' things it knows nought about, and leaving undone all the things that lie in disorder close at its hand--why, I say, leave a' this talk about religion alone, and set to work on what yo' see and know.

'Poor wench - I'm sorry to vex thee, I am; but a man mun speak out for the truth, and when I see the world going all wrong, bothering itself wi' things it knows nought about, and leaving undone all the things that lie in disorder close at hand - why, I say, leave this talk about religion alone, and set to work on what yo' see and know.


It's simple, and not far to fetch, nor hard to work."


But the girl only pleaded the more with Margaret.
"Don't think hardly on him--he's a good man, he is.

But the girl only pleaded again: 'Don't think badly of him - he's a good man.


I sometimes think I shall be moped wi' sorrow even in the City of God, if father is not there."

I sometimes think I shall be moped wi' sorrow even in the City of God, if father is not there.'


The feverish colour came into her cheek, and the feverish flame into her eye.


She put her hand to it, and became ghastly pale.


Margaret held her in her arms, and put the weary head to rest upon her bosom. She lifted the thin soft hair from off the temples, and bathed them with water.

Margaret held her in her arms, and lifted the thin soft hair from off the temples.


Nicholas understood all her signs for different articles with the quickness of love, and even the round-eyed sister moved with laborious gentleness at Margaret's "hush!"

Nicholas understood her signs for water with the quickness of love, and even the round-eyed sister moved with laborious gentleness.


Presently the spasm that foreshadowed death had passed away, and Bessy roused herself and said,--


"I'll go to bed,--it's best place; but," catching at Margaret's gown, "yo'll come again,--I know yo' will--but just say it!"

Bessy roused herself and said, 'I'll go to bed - it's best place; but,' catching at Margaret's gown, 'yo'll come again - say it!'


"I will come again to-morrow," said Margaret.


Bessy leant back against her father, who prepared to carry her upstairs; but as Margaret rose to go, he struggled to say something; "I could wish there were a God, if it were only to ask Him to bless thee."

Bessy leant back against her father, who prepared to carry her upstairs; but first he struggled to say something: 'I could wish there were a God, if only to ask Him to bless thee.'


Margaret went away very sad and thoughtful.


At Helstone unpunctuality at meal-times was a great fault in her mother's eyes; but now this, as well as many other little irregularities, seemed to have lost their power of irritation, and Margaret almost longed for the old complainings.

At Helstone unpunctuality at meal-times was a great fault in her mother's eyes; but no more, and Margaret almost longed for the old complainings.


"No, mamma; that Anne Buckley would never have done."


"Everybody else has had their turn at this great difficulty.


I may be the Cinderella to put on the slipper after all."

I may be the Cinderella to put on the slipper after all.'


Margaret could hardly smile at this little joke, so oppressed was she by her visit to the Higginses.


"What would you do, papa? How would you set about it?"


"Why, I should apply to some good house-mother to recommend me one known to herself or her servants."

'Why, I would apply to some good house-mother to recommend me someone.'


But we must first catch our house-mother."

But we must first catch our house-mother.'


Or rather she is coming into the snare, and you will catch her to-morrow, if you're skilful."

Or rather, you will catch her tomorrow, if you're skilful.'


"Why, my paragon pupil (as Margaret calls him) has told me that his mother intends to call on Mrs. and Miss Hale to-morrow."

'Why, my paragon pupil has told me that his mother intends to call on you both tomorrow.'


"Mrs. Thornton; the only mother he has, I believe," said Mr. Hale, quietly.


She must be an uncommon person," her mother added.


"Perhaps she may have a relation who might suit us, and be glad of our place.

Perhaps she may have a relation who might suit us, and be glad of the job.'


She sounded to be such a careful economical person, that I should like any one out of the same family."


I fancy Mrs. Thornton is as haughty and proud in her way as our little Margaret here is in hers, and that she completely ignores that old time of trial, and poverty, and economy, of which he speaks so openly.

I fancy Mrs. Thornton is as haughty and proud in her way, as our little Margaret is in hers, and that she completely ignores that old time of poverty of which her son speaks so openly.


I am sure, at any rate, she would not like strangers to know anything about it."

I am sure she would not like strangers to know anything about It.'


"Take notice that is not my kind of haughtiness, papa, if I have any at all; which I don't agree to, though you're always accusing me of it."

'Note that that is not my kind of haughtiness, papa, if I have any at all; which I don't agree to.


"I don't know positively that it is hers either; but from little things I have gathered from him, I fancy so."


They cared too little to ask in what manner her son had spoken about her.


Margaret only wanted to know if she must stay in to receive this call, as it would prevent her going to see how Bessy was, until late in the day, since the early morning was always occupied in household affairs; and then she recollected that her mother must not be left to have the whole weight of entertaining her visitor.

Must I stay in to receive this call?' Margaret thought it would prevent her going to see Bessy until late in the day; and then she recollected that her mother must not be left to have the whole weight of entertaining her visitor.


"A dull rotation, never at a stay, Yesterday's face twin image of to-day."


"Of what each one should be, he sees the form and rule, And till he reach to that, his joy can ne'er be full."


It was very well for Margaret that the extreme quiet of the Harley Street house, during Edith's recovery from her confinement, gave her the natural rest which she needed.

The quiet of the Harley Street house, during Edith's recovery from her confinement, gave Margaret the natural rest which she needed.


It gave her time to comprehend the sudden change which had taken place in her circumstances within the last two months.

It gave her time to comprehend the sudden changes of the last two months.


She found herself at once an inmate of a luxurious house, where the bare knowledge of the existence of every trouble or care seemed scarcely to have penetrated. The wheels of the machinery of daily life were well oiled, and went along with delicious smoothness.

In this luxurious house, the knowledge of trouble or care seemed scarcely to have penetrated: the wheels of the machinery of daily life were well oiled, and went along with delicious smoothness.


Mrs. Shaw and Edith could hardly make enough of Margaret, on her return to what they persisted in calling her home.

Mrs. Shaw and Edith could hardly make enough of Margaret.


And she felt that it was almost ungrateful in her to have a secret feeling that the Helstone vicarage--nay, even the poor little house at Milton, with her anxious father and her invalid mother, and all the small household cares of comparative poverty, composed her idea of home.


Edith was impatient to get well, in order to fill Margaret's bed-room with all the soft comforts, and pretty knick-knacks, with which her own abounded.

Edith wanted to fill her room with soft comforts, and pretty knick-knacks.


Mrs. Shaw and her maid found plenty of occupation in restoring Margaret's wardrobe to a state of elegant variety.

Mrs. Shaw and her maid began to restore her wardrobe to a state of elegant variety.


Captain Lennox was easy, kind, and gentlemanly; sate with his wife in her dressing-room an hour or two every day; played with his little boy for another hour, and lounged away the rest of his time at his club, when he was not engaged out to dinner.

Captain Lennox was easy, kind, and gentlemanly; sat with his wife an hour or two every day; played with his little boy for another hour, and lounged away the rest of his time at his club.


Just before Margaret had recovered from her necessity for quiet and repose--before she had begun to feel her life wanting and dull--Edith came downstairs and resumed her usual part in the household; and Margaret fell into the old habit of watching, and admiring, and ministering to her cousin.

Just as Margaret was recovering from her need for quiet, and before she had begun to feel her life dull, Edith came downstairs and resumed her usual part in the household.


She gladly took all charge of the semblances of duties off Edith's hands; answered notes, reminded her of engagements, tended her when no gaiety was in prospect, and she was consequently rather inclined to fancy herself ill.

Margaret gladly took all duties off Edith's hands. She answered notes, reminded her of engagements, and tended her when no gaiety was in prospect, and Edith was consequently inclined to fancy herself ill.


But all the rest of the family were in the full business of the London season, and Margaret was often left alone.

But the rest of the family were in the full swing of the London season, and Margaret, withdrawn from society while she was in mourning, was often left alone.


Then her thoughts went back to Milton, with a strange sense of the contrast between the life there, and here.


She was getting surfeited of the eventless ease in which no struggle or endeavour was required.

She was getting surfeited of the ease in which no effort was required.


She was afraid lest she should even become sleepily deadened into forgetfulness of anything beyond the life which was lapping her round with luxury.

She was afraid of becoming sleepily deadened into forgetfulness of anything beyond this luxurious life.


There might be toilers and moilers there in London, but she never saw them; the very servants lived in an underground world of their own, of which she knew neither the hopes nor the fears; they only seemed to start into existence when some want or whim of their master and mistress needed them.

There might be workers in London, but she never saw them; the very servants lived in an underground world of their own, and only seemed to start into existence when their master or mistress needed them.


There was a strange unsatisfied vacuum in Margaret's heart and mode of life; and, once when she had dimly hinted this to Edith, the latter, wearied with dancing the night before, languidly stroked Margaret's cheek as she sat by her in the old attitude,--she on a footstool by the sofa where Edith lay.

There was a strange unsatisfied vacuum in Margaret's heart; and once, when she hinted this to Edith, the latter languidly stroked Margaret's cheek.


"It is a little sad for you to be left, night after night, just at this time when all the world is so gay.

'It is a little sad for you to be left, night after night, when all the world is so gay.


But we shall be having our dinner-parties soon--as soon as Henry comes back from circuit--and then there will be a little pleasant variety for you.

But we shall be having our dinner-parties as soon as Henry comes back from circuit - and then there will be a little pleasant variety for you, poor darling!'


Margaret did not feel as if the dinner-parties would be a panacea.


But Edith piqued herself on her dinner-parties; "so different," as she said, "from the old dowager dinners under mamma's rgime;" and Mrs. Shaw herself seemed to take exactly the same kind of pleasure in the very different arrangements and circle of acquaintances which were to Captain and Mrs. Lennox's taste, as she did in the more formal and ponderous entertainments which she herself used to give. Captain Lennox was always extremely kind and brotherly to Margaret.

Edith piqued herself on her dinner-parties; and Captain Lennox was always extremely kind and brotherly to Margaret.


She was really very fond of him, excepting when he was anxiously attentive to Edith's dress and appearance, with a view to her beauty making a sufficient impression on the world.

She was really very fond of him, except when he was anxiously attentive to Edith's dress and appearance, with a view to her beauty making a sufficient impression on the world.


Then all the latent Vashti in Margaret was roused, and she could hardly keep herself from expressing her feelings.


The course of Margaret's day was this; a quiet hour or two before a late breakfast; an unpunctual meal, lazily eaten by weary and half-awake people, but yet at which, in all its dragged out length, she was expected to be present, because, directly afterwards, came a discussion of plans, at which, although they none of them concerned her, she was expected to give her sympathy, if she could not assist with her advice; an endless number of notes to write, which Edith invariably left to her, with many caressing compliments as to her eloquence du billet; a little play with Sholto as he returned from his morning's walk; besides the care of the children during the servants' dinner; a drive or callers; and some dinner or morning engagement for her aunt and cousins, which left Margaret free, it is true, but rather wearied with the inactivity of the day, coming upon depressed spirits and delicate health.

The course of Margaret's day was this; a quiet hour or two before a late breakfast, lazily eaten by weary and half-awake people; afterwards came a discussion of plans, none of which concerned her; an endless number of notes to write, which Edith invariably left to her; a little play with baby Sholto, besides the care of the children during the servants' dinner; a drive or callers; and some engagement for her aunt and cousins, which left Margaret free, it is true, but rather wearied with the inactivity of the day.


She looked forward with longing, though unspoken interest to the homely object of Dixon's return from Milton; where, until now, the old servant had been busily engaged in winding up all the affairs of the Hale family.

She looked forward with longing to Dixon's return from Milton, where the old servant had been engaged in winding up all the Hale family's affairs.


It had appeared a sudden famine to her heart, this entire cessation of any news respecting the people among whom she had lived so long.

She was hungry for news of the people amongst whom she had lived so long.


It was true, that Dixon, in her business-like letters, quoted, every now and then, an opinion of Mr. Thornton's as to what she had better do about the furniture, or how act in regard to the landlord of the Crampton Terrace house.

It was true that Dixon, in her business-letters, quoted every now and then an opinion of Mr. Thornton's as to what she had better do about the furniture.


But it was only here and there that the name came in, or any Milton name, indeed; and Margaret was sitting one evening, all alone in the Lennox's drawing-room, not reading Dixon's letters, which yet she held in her hand, but thinking over them, and recalling the days which had been, and picturing the busy life out of which her own had been taken and never missed; wondering if all went on in that whirl just as if she and her father had never been; questioning within herself, if no one in all the crowd missed her (not Higgins, she was not thinking of him), when, suddenly Mr. Bell was announced; and Margaret hurried the letters into her work-basket, and started up, blushing as if she had been doing some guilty thing.

But it was only here and there that any Milton name came in.
Margaret was sitting one evening, alone in the Lennoxes's drawing-room, thinking over Dixon's letters and wondering if all went on in that busy whirl just as if she and her father had never been, or if anyone missed her; when, suddenly, Mr. Bell was announced. Margaret hurried the letters into her work-basket, and started up, blushing guiltily.


"But you give me a welcome, I hope, as well as that very pretty start of surprise."


Otherwise, you know, there is no one who cares less for eating than I do.


I was just thinking--But will you run the risk of dinner?


I don't know if there is anything in the house."

I don't know if there is anything in the house.'


"Why, to tell you the truth, I dined at my club.

'Why, to tell you the truth, I dined at my club.


Only they don't cook as well as they did, so I thought, if you were going to dine, I might try and make out my dinner.

Only they don't cook as well as they did.


There aren't ten cooks in England to be trusted at impromptu dinners.


If their skill and their fires will stand it, their tempers won't.


And now, what were you thinking of? you were going to tell me. Whose letters were those, god-daughter, that you hid away so speedily?"

And now, whose letters were those, god-daughter, that you hid away so speedily?'


"Only Dixon's," replied Margaret, growing very red.

'Only Dixon's,' replied Margaret, growing very red.


Who do you think came up in the train with me?"

Who do you think came up in the train with me?'


"I don't know," said Margaret, resolved against making a guess.


What's the right name for a cousin-in-law's brother?"

What's the right name for a cousin-in-law's brother?'


"I liked him long ago," said Margaret, glancing down for a moment.

'I liked him long ago,' said Margaret, glancing down for a moment.


And then she looked straight up and went on in her natural manner.

Then she looked straight up and went on in her natural manner.


"You know we have been corresponding about Frederick since; but I have not seen him for nearly three years, and he may be changed.

'You know we have been corresponding about Frederick; but I have not seen him for nearly three years, and he may be changed.


He was so busy trying to find out who I was, in the first instance, and what I was in the second, that he never let out what he was; unless indeed that veiled curiosity of his as to what manner of man he had to talk to was not a good piece, and a fair indication of his character.

He was so busy trying to find out who I was that he never let out what he was; unless indeed that veiled curiosity of his is a fair indication of his character.


Do you call him good-looking, Margaret?"

Do you call him good looking, Margaret?'


He has been on circuit now since I came.


But--Mr. Bell--have you come from Oxford or from Milton?"

But, Mr. Bell, have you come from Oxford or from Milton?'


But I thought that it might be the effect of the antiquities of Oxford."

But I thought that it might be the effect of the antiquities of Oxford.'


In Oxford, I could have managed all the landlords in the place, and had my own way, with half the trouble your Milton landlord has given me, and defeated me after all.

In Oxford, I could have managed all the landlords in the place with half the trouble your Milton landlord has given me.


He won't take the house off our hands till next June twelve-month.

He won't take the house off our hands till June next year.


Luckily, Mr. Thornton found a tenant for it.


Why don't you ask after Mr. Thornton, Margaret?


He has proved himself a very active friend of yours, I can tell you.'


Taken more than half the trouble off my hands."


asked Margaret hurriedly and below her breath, though she tried to speak out.


I've been staying at their house till I was driven out of it by the perpetual clack about that Thornton girl's marriage.


It was too much for Thornton himself, though she was his sister.


He used to go and sit in his own room perpetually.


He's getting past the age for caring for such things, either as principal or accessory.

He's getting past the age for caring for such things.


I was surprised to find the old lady falling into the current, and carried away by her daughter's enthusiasm for orange-blossoms and lace.

I was surprised to find the old lady carried away by her daughter's enthusiasm for orange-blossoms and lace.


I thought Mrs. Thornton had been made of sterner stuff."

I thought Mrs. Thornton was made of sterner stuff.'


"She would put on any assumption of feeling to veil her daughter's weakness," said Margaret in a low voice.

'She would put on any manner to veil her daughter's weakness,' said Margaret in a low voice.


She doesn't seem over fond of you, Margaret."

She doesn't seem over fond of you, Margaret.'


And with tea came Mr. Henry Lennox, who had walked up to Harley Street after a late dinner, and had evidently expected to find his brother and sister-in-law at home.

And with tea came Mr. Henry Lennox, who had walked up to Harley Street after his dinner, expecting to find his brother and sister-in-law at home.


Margaret suspected him of being as thankful as she was at the presence of a third party, on this their first meeting since the memorable day of his offer, and her refusal at Helstone.

Margaret suspected him of being as thankful as she was at the presence of a third party, on this their first meeting since the memorable day of his offer.


She could hardly tell what to say at first, and was thankful for all the tea-table occupations, which gave her an excuse for keeping silence, and him an opportunity for recovering himself.

She hardly knew what to say at first, and was grateful for all the tea-table occupations which gave her an excuse for silence, and him an opportunity of recovering himself.


For, to tell the truth, he had rather forced himself up to Harley Street this evening, with a view of getting over an awkward meeting, awkward even in the presence of Captain Lennox and Edith, and doubly awkward now that he found her the only lady there, and the person to whom he must naturally and perforce address a great part of his conversation.

For, to tell the truth, he had rather forced himself up to Harley Street this evening, with a view of getting over an awkward meeting - doubly awkward now that he found her the only lady there.


She was the first to recover her self-possession.

She was the first to recover her self-possession, saying,


She began to talk on the subject which came uppermost in her mind, after the first flush of awkward shyness.


"Mr. Lennox, I have been so much obliged to you for all you have done about Frederick."

'Mr. Lennox, I have been so much obliged to you for all you have done about Frederick.'


"I am only sorry it has been so unsuccessful," replied he, with a quick glance towards Mr. Bell, as if reconnoitring how much he might say before him.

'I am only sorry it has been so unsuccessful,' replied he, with a quick glance towards Mr. Bell, as if unsure how much he might say before him.


Margaret, as if she read his thought, addressed herself to Mr. Bell, both including him in the conversation, and implying that he was perfectly aware of the endeavours that had been made to clear Frederick.

But Margaret addressed Mr. Bell, to show that he was perfectly aware of the situation.


"That Horrocks--that very last witness of all, has proved as unavailing as all the others.

'That last witness of all, Horrocks, has proved as unavailing as all the others.


Mr. Lennox has discovered that he sailed for Australia only last August; only two months before Frederick was in England, and gave us the names of----"

He sailed for Australia only last August; only two months before Frederick was in England, and gave us the names of-'


Of course, it was a great secret, and perhaps I should not have named it now," said Margaret, a little dismayed.

Of course, it was a great secret, and perhaps I should not have mentioned it now,' said Margaret, a little dismayed.


"I have never named it to either my brother or your cousin," said Mr. Lennox, with a little professional dryness of implied reproach.


"Never mind, Margaret. I am not living in a talking, babbling world, nor yet among people who are trying to worm facts out of me; you needn't look so frightened because you have let the cat out of the bag to a faithful old hermit like me.

'Never mind, Margaret; you needn't look so frightened because you have let the cat out of the bag to a faithful old hermit like me.


I shall never name his having been in England; I shall be out of temptation, for no one will ask me.

I shall never name his having been in England.


"He was with mamma when she died," said Margaret, softly.

'He was with mamma when she died,' said Margaret, softly.


Why, some one asked me if he had not been over then, and I denied it stoutly--not many weeks ago--who could it have been?

Why, someone asked me if he had not been over then, and I denied it - not many weeks ago - who could it have been?


But he did not say the name; and although Margaret would have given much to know if her suspicions were right, and it had been Mr. Thornton who had made the enquiry, she could not ask the question of Mr. Bell, much as she longed to do so.

But he did not say the name; and although Margaret would have given much to know if her suspicions were right, and it had been Mr. Thornton, she could not ask.


Then Mr. Lennox said, addressing himself to Margaret, "I suppose as Mr. Bell is now acquainted with all the circumstances attending your brother's unfortunate dilemma, I cannot do better than inform him exactly how the research into the evidence we once hoped to produce in his favour stands at present.

Mr. Lennox said, 'I suppose I may inform Mr. Bell how the research into the evidence stands at present.


So, if he will do me the honour to breakfast with me to-morrow, we will go over the names of these missing gentry."

So, if he will do me the honour to breakfast with me tomorrow, we will go over the names of these missing gentry.'


"I should like to hear all the particulars, if I may.

'I should like to hear all the particulars.


Cannot you both come here?' asked Margaret.


I dare not ask you both to breakfast, though I am sure you would be welcome.


But let me know all you can about Frederick, even though there may be no hope at present."


"I have an engagement at half-past eleven.

'I have an engagement at half-past eleven.


But I will certainly come if you wish it," replied Mr. Lennox with a little after-thought of extreme willingness, which made Margaret shrink into herself, and almost wish that she had not proposed her natural request.

But I will certainly come if you wish it,' replied Mr. Lennox, with a willingness which made Margaret shrink.


Mr. Bell got up and looked around him for his hat, which had been removed to make room for tea.

Mr. Bell got up and looked around for his hat.


said he, "I don't know what Mr. Lennox is inclined to do, but I'm disposed to be moving off homewards.

said he, 'I don't know what Mr. Lennox is inclined to do, but I'm moving off homewards.'


I've been a journey to-day, and journeys begin to tell upon my sixty and odd years."


"I believe I shall stay and see my brother and sister," said Mr. Lennox, making no movement of departure.

'I believe I shall stay and see my brother and sister,' said Mr. Lennox.


Margaret was seized with a shy awkward dread of being left alone with him. The scene on the little terrace in the Helstone garden was so present to her, that she could hardly help believing it was so with him.

Margaret was seized with a shy awkward dread of being left alone with him; and could not help thinking he must feel the same.


"Don't go yet, please Mr. Bell," said she, hastily.

'Don't go yet, please, Mr. Bell,' said she, hastily.


"I want you to see Edith; and I want Edith to know you.

'I want you to see Edith; and I want Edith to know you.


said she, laying a light but determined hand on his arm.

She laid a light but determined hand on his arm.


He looked at her, and saw the confusion stirring in her countenance; he sate down again, as if her little touch had been possessed of resistless strength.

He saw the confusion in her countenance, and sat down again.


"You see how she overpowers me, Mr. Lennox," said he.

'You see how she overpowers me, Mr. Lennox,' said he.


"And I hope you noticed the happy choice of her expressions; she wants me to 'see' this cousin Edith, who, I am told, is a great beauty; but she has the honesty to change her word when she comes to me--Mrs. Lennox is to 'know' me.

'And I hope you noticed the happy choice of words; she wants me to "see" Edith, who, I am told, is a great beauty; but she has the honesty to change her word to "know" when she comes to me.


I suppose I am not much to 'see,' eh, Margaret?"

I suppose I am not much to see, eh, Margaret?'


He joked, to give her time to recover from the slight flutter which he had detected in her manner on his proposal to leave; and she caught the tone, and threw the ball back.

He joked to give her time to recover from the slight flutter in her manner; and she caught the tone, and threw the ball back.


Mr. Lennox wondered how his brother, the Captain, could have reported her as having lost all her good looks.


To be sure, in her quiet black dress, she was a contrast to Edith, dancing in her white crape mourning, and long floating golden hair, all softness and glitter.

To be sure, in her quiet black dress, she was a contrast to Edith, who came in all softness and glitter.


She dimpled and blushed most becomingly when introduced to Mr. Bell, conscious that she had her reputation as a beauty to keep up, and that it would not do to have a Mordecai refusing to worship and admire, even in the shape of an old Fellow of a College, which nobody had ever heard of.

Edith dimpled and blushed most becomingly when introduced to Mr. Bell, conscious that she had her reputation as a beauty to keep up.


Mrs. Shaw and Captain Lennox, each in their separate way, gave Mr. Bell a kind and sincere welcome, winning him over to like them almost in spite of himself, especially when he saw how naturally Margaret took her place as sister and daughter of the house.

Mrs. Shaw and Captain Lennox gave Mr. Bell a kind and sincere welcome, making him like them almost in spite of himself, especially when he saw how naturally Margaret took her place as daughter of the house.


"What a shame that we were not at home to receive you," said Edith.

'What a shame that we were not at home to receive you,' said Edith.


though I don't know that we should have stayed at home for you.

though I don't know that we should have waited at home for you.'


"There is no knowing what sacrifices you would not have made," said her brother-in-law.


and the delight of wearing this very becoming dress."


Edith did not know whether to frown or to smile, but it did not suit Mr. Lennox to drive her to the first of these alternatives; so he went on.


"Will you show your readiness to make sacrifices to-morrow morning, first by asking me to breakfast, to meet Mr. Bell, and secondly, by being so kind as to order it at half-past nine, instead of at ten o'clock?

'Will you ask me to breakfast tomorrow to meet Mr. Bell, and be so kind as to order it at half-past nine?


I have some letters and papers that I want to show to Miss Hale and Mr. Bell."

I have some papers that I want to show to Miss Hale and Mr. Bell.'


"I hope Mr. Bell will make our house his own during his stay in London," said Captain Lennox.

'I hope Mr. Bell will make our house his own during his stay in London,' said Captain Lennox.


"I am only so sorry we cannot offer him a bedroom."

'I am only sorry we cannot offer him a bedroom.'


You would only think me a churl if you had, for I should decline it, I believe, in spite of all the temptations of such agreeable company," said Mr. Bell, bowing all round, and secretly congratulating himself on the neat turn he had given to his sentence, which, if put into plain language, would have been more to this effect: "I couldn't stand the restraints of such a proper-behaved and civil-spoken people as these are: it would be like meat without salt.

Mr. Bell, bowing, was secretly thinking: 'I couldn't stand the restraints of such proper-behaved people as these.


I'm absolutely catching the trick of good manners."


His self-satisfaction lasted him till he was fairly out in the streets, walking side by side with Henry Lennox. Here he suddenly remembered Margaret's little look of entreaty as she urged him to stay longer, and he also recollected a few hints given him long ago by an acquaintance of Mr. Lennox's, as to his admiration of Margaret.

Out in the streets, walking side by side with Henry Lennox, he suddenly remembered Margaret's little look of entreaty as she urged him to stay longer.


It gave a new direction to his thoughts.


"You have known Miss Hale for a long time, I believe.

'You have known Miss Hale for a long time, I believe,' he said.


Perhaps not when I first came--now I think of.


But certainly, when she grew animated, she looked as well as ever I saw her do."

But certainly, when she grew animated, she looked as well as ever I saw her do.'


"She has had a great deal to go through," said Mr. Bell.

'She has had a great deal to go through,' said Mr. Bell.


I have been sorry to hear of all she has had to bear; not merely the common and universal sorrow arising from death, but all the annoyance which her father's conduct must have caused her, and then----"

I have been sorry to hear of all she has had to bear; not merely sorrow, but all the annoyance which her father's conduct must have caused her-'


said Mr. Bell, in an accent of surprise.


"You must have heard some wrong statement.

'You must have heard some wrong statement.


He behaved in the most conscientious manner. He showed more resolute strength than I should ever have given him credit for formerly."

He behaved in the most conscientious and resolute manner.'


But I have been told, by his successor in the living--a clever sensible man, and a thoroughly active clergyman--that there was no call upon Mr. Hale to do what he did, relinquish the living, and throw himself and his family on the tender mercies of private teaching in a manufacturing town; the bishop had offered him another living, it is true, but if he had come to entertain certain doubts, he could have remained where he was, and so had no occasion to resign.

But I have been told, by his successor - a sensible, active clergyman - that there was no need for Mr. Hale to relinquish the living; he could have remained where he was, and so had no occasion to resign.


But the truth is, these country clergymen live such isolated lives--isolated, I mean, from all intercourse with men of equal cultivation with themselves, by whose minds they might regulate their own, and discover when they were going either too fast or too slow--that they are very apt to disturb themselves with imaginary doubts as to the articles of faith, and throw up certain opportunities of doing good for very uncertain fancies of their own."

But the truth is, these country clergymen live such isolated lives - isolated, I mean, from men of cultivation - that they are very apt to disturb themselves with imaginary doubts.'


I do not think they are very apt to do as my poor friend Hale did."

I do not think they are very apt to do as my poor friend Hale did.'


"Perhaps I used too general an expression in saying 'very apt.'


But certainly, their lives are such as very often to produce either inordinate self-sufficiency, or a morbid state of conscience," replied Mr. Lennox with perfect coolness.

'Yet certainly, their lives are such as very often to produce either inordinate self-sufficiency, or a morbid state of conscience,' replied Mr. Lennox with perfect coolness.


"You don't meet with any self-sufficiency among the lawyers, for instance?"

'You don't meet with any self-sufficiency among lawyers?'


"And seldom, I imagine, any cases of morbid conscience."

'And seldom, I imagine, any cases of morbid conscience.'


He was becoming more and more vexed, and forgetting his lately-caught trick of good manners.


Mr. Lennox saw now that he had annoyed his companion; and as he had talked pretty much for the sake of saying something, and so passing the time away while their road lay together, he was very indifferent as to the exact side he took upon the question, and quietly came round by saying: "To be sure, there is something fine in a man of Mr. Hale's age leaving his home of twenty years, and giving up all settled habits, for an idea which was probably erroneous--but that does not matter--an untangible thought.

Mr. Lennox saw that he had annoyed his companion; and as he had talked pretty much for the sake of making conversation, he quietly came round by saying:
'To be sure, there is something fine in a man of Mr. Hale's age leaving his home for an idea which was probably erroneous.


One cannot help admiring him, with a mixture of pity in one's admiration, something like what one feels for Don Quixote.

One cannot help admiring him, with a mixture of pity and admiration; something like what one feels for Don Quixote.


I shall never forget the refined and simple hospitality he showed to me that last day at Helstone."

I shall never forget the refined and simple hospitality he showed to me that last day at Helstone.'


Only half-mollified, and yet anxious, in order to lull certain qualms of his own conscience, to believe that Mr. Hale's conduct had a tinge of Quixotism in it, Mr. Bell growled out--"Aye!

Only half mollified, Mr. Bell growled - 'Aye!


It is years since I have been at Helstone--but I'll answer for it, it is standing there yet--every stick and every stone as it has done for the last century, while Milton!

It is years since I have been at Helstone - but I'll answer for it, it is standing there yet, every stone as it has done for the last century, while Milton!


I go there every four or five years--and I was born there--yet I do assure you, I often lose my way--aye, among the very piles of warehouses that are built upon my father's orchard.

I go there every four or five years, and yet I often lose my way.


Well, good-night, sir; I suppose we shall meet in Harley Street to-morrow morning."

Well, good night, sir; we shall meet in Harley Street tomorrow morning.'


"Your beauty was the first that won the place And scal'd the walls of my undaunted heart, Which, captive now, pines in a caitive case, Unkindly met with rigour for desert:-- Yet not the less your servant shall abide, In spite of rude repulse or silent pride."


The next morning, Margaret dragged herself up, thankful that the night was over,--unrefreshed, yet rested.

The next morning, Margaret dragged herself up, thankful that the night was over - unrefreshed, yet rested.


All had gone well through the house; her mother had only wakened once.


A little breeze was stirring in the hot air, and though there were no trees to show the playful tossing movement caused by the wind among the leaves, Margaret knew how, somewhere or another, by wayside, in copses, or in thick green woods, there was a pleasant, murmuring dancing sound,--a rushing and falling noise, the very thought of which was an echo of distinct gladness in her heart.

A little breeze was stirring in the hot air, and she knew how, somewhere or other, in thick green woods, there would be a pleasant, murmuring, dancing sound; the thought was an echo of distant gladness in her heart.


She sat at her work in Mrs. Hale's room.


As soon as that forenoon slumber was over, she would help her mother to dress; after dinner, she would go and see Bessy Higgins.

As soon as her mother's morning slumber was over, she would help her to dress; after dinner, she would go and see Bessy Higgins.


She would banish all recollection of the Thornton family--no need to think of them till they absolutely stood before her in flesh and blood.

She would banish all recollection of the Thornton family.


But, of course, the effort not to think of them brought them only the more strongly before her; and from time to time, the hot flush came over her pale face sweeping it into colour, as a sunbeam from between watery clouds comes swiftly moving over the sea.

But, of course, the effort not to think of them brought them only the more strongly before her; and from time to time, the hot flush came over her pale face, sweeping it into colour, like a sunbeam swiftly moving over the sea.


Dixon opened the door very softly, and stole on tiptoe up to Margaret, sitting by the shaded window.


"He asked for you, miss; and master is out."

'He asked for you, miss; and master is out.'


"Very well, I will come," said Margaret, quietly.

'Very well, I will come,' said Margaret, quietly.


Mr. Thornton stood by one of the windows, with his back to the door apparently absorbed in watching something in the street.

Mr. Thornton stood by one of the windows, apparently absorbed in watching something in the street.


But, in truth, he was afraid of himself.


His heart beat thick at the thought of her coming.


He could not forget the touch of her arms around his neck, impatiently felt as it had been at the time; but now the recollection of her clinging defence of him, seemed to thrill him through and through,--to melt away every resolution, all power of self-control, as if it were wax before a fire.

He could not forget the touch of her arms around his neck, impatient as he had been at the time; but now the recollection of her clinging defence seemed to thrill him through and through - to melt away all power of self-control, like wax before a fire.


He dreaded lest he should go forwards to meet her, with his arms held out in mute entreaty that she would come and nestle there, as she had done, all unheeded, the day before, but never unheeded again.

He dreaded lest he should go forwards to meet her with his arms held out in mute entreaty.


Strong man as he was, he trembled at the anticipation of what he had to say, and how it might be received.


She might droop, and flush, and flutter to his arms, as to her natural home and resting-place.

She might flush, and flutter to his arms, as to her natural home.


One moment he glowed with impatience at the thought that she might do this,--the next he feared a passionate rejection, the idea of which withered up his future with so deadly a blight that he refused to think of it.

Or she might respond with a passionate rejection, the very idea of which withered up his future with so deadly a blight that he refused to think of it.


He was startled by the sense of the presence of some one else in the room.

He was startled by the sense of a presence in the room.


She had come in so gently, that he had never heard her; the street noises had been more distinct to his inattentive ear than her slow movements, in her soft muslin gown.

She had come in so gently that he had never heard her.


She stood by the table, not offering to sit down.


Her eyelids were dropped half over her eyes; her teeth were shut, not compressed; her lips were just parted over them, allowing the white line to be seen between their curve.

Her eyelids were dropped half over her eyes; her lips were just parted, allowing the white line of teeth to be seen between their curve.


Her slow deep breathings dilated her chin and beautiful nostrils; it was the only motion visible on her countenance.


The fine-grained skin, the oval cheek, the rich outline of her mouth, its corners deep set in dimples,--were all wan and pale to-day; the loss of their usual natural healthy colour being made more evident by the heavy shadow of the dark hair, brought down upon her temples, to hide all sign of the blow she had received.

The fine-grained skin, the oval cheek, the rich outline of her mouth, its corners deep set in dimples - all were wan and pale today, under the heavy shadow of the dark hair, brought down to hide all sign of the blow she had received.


Her head, for all its drooping eyes, was thrown a little back, in the old proud attitude.

Her head was thrown a little back, in the old proud attitude.


Her long arms hung motionless by her sides.


Altogether she looked like some prisoner, falsely accused of a crime that she loathed and despised, and from which she was too indignant to justify herself.

Altogether she looked like some prisoner, falsely accused of a crime that she despised.


Mr. Thornton made a hasty step or two forwards; recovered himself, and went with quiet firmness to the door (which she had left open), and shut it.

Mr. Thornton made a hasty step or two forwards; recovered himself, and went with quiet firmness to the door and shut it.


Then he came back, and stood opposite to her for a moment, receiving the general impression of her beautiful presence, before he dared to disturb it, perhaps to repel it, by what he had to say.

Then he stood opposite to her for a moment, receiving the general impression of her beautiful presence, before he dared to disturb it, perhaps to repel it, by what he had to say.


"Miss Hale, I was very ungrateful yesterday--"

'Miss Hale, I was very ungrateful yesterday-'


"You had nothing to be grateful for," said she raising her eyes, and looking full and straight at him.

'You had nothing to be grateful for,' said she, raising her eyes, and looking full and straight at him.


"You mean, I suppose, that you believe you ought to thank me for what I did."

'You mean, I suppose, that you believe you ought to thank me for what I did.'


In spite of herself--in defiance of her anger--the thick blushes came all over her face, and burnt into her very eyes; which fell not nevertheless from their grave and steady look.

In spite of her anger, the blushes burnt her face; but her eyes kept their grave and steady look.


"It was only a natural instinct; any woman would have done just the same.

'It was only a natural instinct; any woman would have done the same.


We all feel the sanctity of our sex as a high privilege when we see danger.


I ought rather," said she, hastily, "to apologise to you, for having said thoughtless words which sent you down into the danger."

I ought rather to apologise to you, for having said thoughtless words which sent you down into the danger.'


"It was not your words; it was the truth they conveyed, pungently as it was expressed.

'It was not your words; it was the truth they conveyed.


But you shall not drive me off upon that, and so escape the expression of my deep gratitude, my--" he was on the verge now; he would not speak in the haste of his hot passion; he would weigh each word.

But you shall not so escape the expression of my deep gratitude, my-' he was on the verge now; yet he would not speak in the haste of his hot passion; he would weigh each word.


"I do not try to escape from anything," said she.

'I do not try to escape from anything,' said she.


"I simply say, that you owe me no gratitude; and I may add, that any expression of it will be painful to me, because I do not feel that I deserve it.

'I simply say, that you owe me no gratitude; and I do not feel that I deserve it.


Still, if it will relieve you from even a fancied obligation, speak on."

Still, if it will relieve you from even a fancied obligation, speak on.'


"I do not want to be relieved from any obligation," said he, goaded by her calm manner.

'I do not want to be relieved from any obligation,' said he, goaded by her calm manner.


"Fancied, or not fancied--I question not myself to know which--I choose to believe that I owe my very life to you--ay--smile, and think it an exaggeration if you will.

'I choose to believe that I owe my very life to you - aye, smile, and think it an exaggeration if you will.


I believe it, because it adds a value to that life to think--oh, Miss Hale!"

I believe it, because it adds a value to that life to think - oh, Miss Hale!'


continued he, lowering his voice to such a tender intensity of passion that she shivered and trembled before him, "to think circumstances so wrought, that whenever I exult in existence henceforward, I may say to myself, 'All this gladness in life, all honest pride in doing my work in the world, all this keen sense of being, I owe to her!'

His voice held such a tender intensity of passion that she shivered. 'Henceforward, I may say to myself, "All this gladness in life, all honest pride in doing my work in the world, all this keen sense of being, I owe to her!"


And it doubles the gladness, it makes the pride glow, it sharpens the sense of existence till I hardly know if it is pain or pleasure to think that I owe it to one--nay, you must, you shall hear,"--said he, stepping forward with stern determination--"to one whom I love, as I do not believe man ever loved woman before."

And it doubles the gladness, it makes the pride glow, it sharpens the sense of existence till I hardly know if it is pain or pleasure, to think that I owe it to one - nay, you must, you shall hear - to one whom I love, as I do not believe man ever loved woman before.'


He held her hand tight in his. He panted as he listened for what should come. He threw the hand away with indignation, as he heard her icy tone; for icy it was, though the words came faltering out, as if she knew not where to find them.

He held her hand tight in his, listening for what should come - and threw the hand away with indignation, as he heard her icy tone. For icy it was, though the words came faltering.


I cannot help it, if that is my first feeling.


It might not be so, I dare say, if I understood the kind of feeling you describe.


I do not want to vex you; and besides, we must speak gently, for mamma is asleep; but your whole manner offends me--"

I do not want to vex you; and we must speak gently, for mamma is asleep; but your whole manner offends me-'


"I do feel offended; and, I think, justly.

'I do feel offended; and, I think, justly.


You seem to fancy that my conduct of yesterday"--again the deep carnation blush, but this time with eyes kindling with indignation rather than shame--"was a personal act between you and me; and that you may come and thank me for it, instead of perceiving, as a gentleman would--yes! a gentleman," she repeated, in allusion to their former conversation about that word, "that any woman, worthy of the name of woman, would come forward to shield, with her reverenced helplessness, a man in danger from the violence of numbers."

You seem to fancy that my conduct of yesterday' - again the deep blush, but this time with eyes kindling with indignation rather than shame - 'was a personal act; and that you may come and thank me for it, instead of perceiving, as a gentleman would, that any woman worthy of the name of woman would come forward and use her helplessness to shield a man in danger from the violence of a mob.'


"And the gentleman thus rescued is forbidden the relief of thanks!"

'And the gentleman is forbidden the relief of thanks!'


I claim the right of expressing my feelings."

I claim the right of expressing my feelings.'


"And I yielded to the right; simply saying that you gave me pain by insisting upon it," she replied, proudly.

'And I yielded to the right,' she replied, proudly.


"But you seem to have imagined, that I was not merely guided by womanly instinct, but"--and here the passionate tears (kept down for long--struggled with vehemently) came up into her eyes and choked her voice--"but that I was prompted by some particular feeling for you--you!

'But you seem to have imagined, that I was not merely guided by womanly instinct, but' - and here the passionate tears came up at last into her eyes, and choked her voice - 'but that I was prompted by some particular feeling for you - for you!


Why, there was not a man--not a poor desperate man in all that crowd--for whom I had not more sympathy--for whom I should not have done what little I could more heartily."

Why, there was not a poor desperate man in all that crowd for whom I had not more sympathy.'


"You may speak on, Miss Hale. I am aware of these misplaced sympathies of yours.

'Miss Hale, I am aware of all these misplaced sympathies of yours.


I now believe that it was only your innate sense of oppression--(yes; I, though a master, may be oppressed)--that made you act so nobly as you did.

I now believe that it was only your innate sense of oppression (yes; I, though a master, may be oppressed) that made you act so nobly as you did.


I know you despise me; allow me to say, it is because you do not understand me."

I know you despise me; but it is because you do not understand me.'


"I do not care to understand," she replied, taking hold of the table to steady herself; for she thought him cruel--as, indeed, he was--and she was weak with her indignation.

'I do not care to understand,' she replied, taking hold of the table to steady herself; for she thought him cruel, and she was weak with indignation.


She would not speak in answer to such accusations.


But, for all that--for all his savage words, he could have thrown himself at her feet, and kissed the hem of her garment.

But, for all his savage words, he could have thrown himself at her feet.


The tears of wounded pride fell hot and fast.

Her tears of wounded pride fell hot and fast.


He waited awhile, longing for her to say something, even a taunt, to which he might reply.


You look as if you thought it tainted you to be loved by me.


Nay, I, if I would, cannot cleanse you from it.


I have never loved any woman before: my life has been too busy, my thoughts too much absorbed with other things.

I have never loved any woman before: my life has been too busy, my thoughts too much absorbed.


But do not be afraid of too much expression on my part."

But do not be afraid of too much expression on my part.'


"I am not afraid," she replied, lifting herself straight up.

'I am not afraid,' she replied, lifting herself straight up.


"No one yet has ever dared to be impertinent to me, and no one ever shall.

'No one yet has ever dared to be impertinent to me, and no one ever shall.


But, Mr. Thornton, you have been very kind to my father," said she, changing her whole tone and bearing to a most womanly softness.

But, Mr. Thornton, you have been very kind to my father,' said she, changing her whole tone to a most womanly softness.


"Don't let us go on making each other angry.

'Don't let us go on making each other angry.


He took no notice of her words; he occupied himself in smoothing the nap of his hat with his coat-sleeve, for half a minute or so; and then, rejecting her offered hand, and making as if he did not see her grave look of regret, he turned abruptly away, and left the room.

He took no notice of her words: he occupied himself in smoothing his hat with his coat-sleeve; and then, rejecting her offered hand, and acting as if he did not see her grave look of regret, he turned abruptly away, and left the room.


Margaret caught one glance at his face before he went.


When he was gone she thought she had seen the gleam of washed tears in his eyes; and that turned her proud dislike into something different and kinder, if nearly as painful--self-reproach for having caused such mortification to any one.

She thought she had seen the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes; and that turned her proud dislike into something different and kinder: self-reproach for having caused such pain.


I was civil; but I took no trouble to conceal my indifference.

I was civil; but I did not conceal my indifference to him.


Indeed, I never thought about myself or him, so my manners must have shown the truth. All that yesterday, he might mistake.


I would do it again, if need were, though it does lead me into all this shame and trouble."

I would do it again, if need were, though it does lead me into all this shame and trouble.'


"The meanest thing to which we bid adieu, Loses its meanness in the parting hour."


Mrs. Shaw took as vehement a dislike as it was possible for one of her gentle nature to do, against Milton.

The gentle Mrs. Shaw took a vehement dislike to Milton.


It was noisy, and smoky, and the poor people whom she saw in the streets were dirty, and the rich ladies over-dressed, and not a man that she saw, high or low, had his clothes made to fit him.

It was noisy and smoky, and the poor people were dirty, and the rich ladies over-dressed, and not a man wore clothes made to fit him.


She was sure Margaret would never regain her lost strength while she stayed in Milton; and she herself was afraid of one of her old attacks of the nerves. Margaret must return with her, and that quickly.

She was sure Margaret would never regain her lost strength while she stayed in Milton; she must return with her.


This, if not the exact force of her words, was at any rate the spirit of what she urged on Margaret, till the latter, weak, weary, and broken-spirited, yielded a reluctant promise that, as soon as Wednesday was over, she would prepare to accompany her aunt back to town, leaving Dixon in charge of all the arrangements for paying bills, disposing of furniture, and shutting up the house.

She urged this until Margaret, weak, weary, and broken-spirited, reluctantly promised that as soon as the funeral was over, she would accompany her aunt back to town, leaving Dixon in charge of shutting up the house.


Before that Wednesday--that mournful Wednesday, when Mr. Hale was to be interred, far away from either of the homes he had known in life, and far away from the wife who lay lonely among strangers (and this last was Margaret's great trouble, for she thought that if she had not given way to that overwhelming stupor during the first sad days, she could have arranged things otherwise)--before that Wednesday, Margaret received a letter from Mr. Bell.

Before that mournful day, Margaret received a letter from Mr. Bell.


"MY DEAR MARGARET:--I did mean to have returned to Milton on Thursday, but unluckily it turns out to be one of the rare occasions when we, Plymouth Fellows, are called upon to perform any kind of duty, and I must not be absent from my post.

'My dear Margaret,
'I did mean to return to Milton on Thursday, but unluckily it turns out to be one of the rare occasions when we Plymouth Fellows are called upon to perform a duty, and I must not be absent from my post.


Captain Lennox and Mr. Thornton are here.


The former seems a smart, well-meaning man; and has proposed to go over to Milton, and assist you in any search for the will; of course there is none, or you would have found it by this time, if you followed my directions. Then the Captain declares he must take you and his mother-in-law home; and, in his wife's present state, I don't see how you can expect him to remain away longer than Friday.

The former seems a smart, well-meaning man; and declares he must take you and his mother-in-law home.


However, that Dixon of yours is trusty; and can hold her, or your own, till I come.


I will put matters into the hands of my Milton attorney if there is no will; for I doubt this smart Captain is no great man of business.

I will put matters into the hands of my Milton attorney if there is no will; for I doubt if this smart captain is any great man of business.


Nevertheless, his moustachios are splendid.


There will have to be a sale, so select what things you wish to be reserved. Or you can send a list afterwards.

There will have to be a sale, so select what things you wish reserved, or you can send a list afterwards.


You know, or if you don't, your poor father did, that you are to have my money and goods when I die.

You are to have my money and goods when I die.


Not that I mean to die yet; but I name this just to explain what is coming.

Not that I mean to die yet; but I say this just to explain.


These Lennoxes seem very fond of you now; and perhaps may continue to be; perhaps not. So it is best to start with a formal agreement; namely, that you are to pay to them two hundred and fifty pounds a year, as long as you and they find it pleasant to live together.

These Lennoxes seem very fond of you now; but it is best to start with a formal agreement; namely, that you will pay them two hundred and fifty pounds a year, as long as you and they find it pleasant to live together.


(This, of course, includes Dixon; mind you don't be cajoled into paying more for her.)


Then you won't be thrown adrift, if some day the captain wishes to have his house to himself, but you can carry yourself and your two hundred and fifty pounds off somewhere else; if, indeed, I have not claimed you to come and keep house for me first.


Then as to dress, and Dixon, and personal expenses, and confectionery (all young ladies eat confectionery till wisdom comes by age), I shall consult some lady of my acquaintance, and see how much you will have from your father before fixing this.

As to dress, and Dixon, and so on, I shall consult some lady of my acquaintance, and see how much you will have from your father before fixing this.


Now, Margaret, have you flown out before you have read this far, and wondered what right the old man has to settle your affairs for you so cavalierly?

'Now, Margaret, have you flown out yet, and wondered what right the old man has to settle your affairs for you?


He has loved your father for five and thirty years; he stood beside him on his wedding-day; he closed his eyes in death.

He loved your father for five and thirty years; he stood beside him on his wedding-day; he closed his eyes in death.


Moreover, he is your godfather; and as he cannot do you much good spiritually, having a hidden consciousness of your superiority in such things, he would fain do you the poor good of endowing you materially. And the old man has not a known relation on earth; 'who is there to mourn for Adam Bell?'

Moreover, he is your godfather; and has not a known relation on earth.


and his whole heart is set and bent upon this one thing, and Margaret Hale is not the girl to say him nay.

His whole heart is set upon this one thing, and Margaret Hale is not the girl to say him nay.


Write by return if only two lines, to tell me your answer.

Write by return, if only two lines, to tell me your answer.


Margaret took up a pen and scrawled with trembling hand, "Margaret Hale is not the girl to say him nay."

Margaret took up a pen and scrawled with trembling hand, 'Margaret Hale is not the girl to say him nay.'


In her weak state she could not think of any other words, and yet, she was vexed to use these.

In her weak state she could not think of any other words.


But she was so much fatigued even by this slight exertion, that if she could have thought of another form of acceptance, she could not have sate up to write a syllable of it. She was obliged to lie down again and try not to think.

But she was so much fatigued even by this slight exertion that she was obliged to lie down again, and try not to think.


"I shall be better when to-morrow is over."

'I shall be better when tomorrow is over.'


"I feel sure, darling, you won't be better till I get you out of this horrid air.

'I feel sure, darling, you won't be better till I get you out of this horrid air.


How you can have borne it these two years I can't imagine."

How you can have borne it two years I can't imagine.'


"Well, don't distress yourself, my dear.

'Well! don't distress yourself, my dear.


I dare say it was all for the best, only I had no conception of how you were living. Our butler's wife lives in a better house than this."

I dare say it was all for the best, but our butler's wife lives in a better house than this.'


"It is sometimes very pretty--in summer; you can't judge by what it is now.

'It is sometimes very pretty - in summer.


I have been very happy here," and Margaret closed her eyes by way of stopping the conversation.

I have been very happy here.' Margaret closed her eyes to stop the conversation.


The house teemed with comfort now, compared to what it had been.


The evenings were chilly, and by Mrs. Shaw's directions fires were lighted in every bedroom.


She petted Margaret in every possible way, and bought every delicacy, or soft luxury in which she herself would have burrowed and sought comfort.

Mrs. Shaw bought every delicacy or soft luxury which might give Margaret comfort.


But Margaret was indifferent to all these things; or, if they forced themselves upon her attention, it was simply as causes for gratitude to her aunt, who was putting herself so much out of the way to think of her.

But Margaret, though grateful, was indifferent to all these things.


She was restless, though so weak. All the day long, she kept herself from thinking of the ceremony which was going on at Oxford, by wandering from room to room, and languidly setting aside such articles as she wished to retain.

She was restless; all day, she kept herself from thinking of the funeral, which was going on at Oxford, by wandering from room to room, and setting aside anything she wished to keep.


Dixon followed her by Mrs. Shaw's desire, ostensibly to receive instructions, but with a private injunction to soothe her into repose as soon as might be.


They are of a kind that he will value for themselves, as well as for papa's sake.

They are ones that he will value for themselves, as well as for papa's sake.


This---- I should like you to take this to Mr. Thornton, after I am gone.

This - I should like you to take this to Mr. Thornton, after I am gone.


And she sate down hastily, as if afraid of thinking, and wrote:


"DEAR SIR,--The accompanying book I am sure will be valued by you for the sake of my father, to whom it belonged.

'Dear Sir,
The accompanying book I am sure will be valued by you for the sake of my father, to whom it belonged.


She set out again upon her travels through the house, turning over articles, known to her from her childhood, with a sort of caressing reluctance to leave them--old-fashioned, worn and shabby, as they might be.

She set out again upon her travels through the house, turning over familiar articles with a sort of caressing reluctance to leave them - shabby though they might be.


But she hardly spoke again; and Dixon's report to Mrs. Shaw was, that "she doubted whether Miss Hale heard a word of what she said, though she talked the whole time, in order to divert her intention." The consequence of her being on her feet all day was excessive bodily weariness in the evening, and a better night's rest than she had had since she heard of Mr. Hale's death.

But in the evening she was excessively weary.


At breakfast time the next day, she expressed her wish to go and bid one or two friends good-bye.

At breakfast time the next day, she expressed her wish to bid one or two friends good-bye.


"I am sure, my dear, you can have no friends here with whom you are sufficiently intimate to justify you in calling upon them so soon; before you have been at church."


"But to-day is my only day; if Captain Lennox comes this after noon, and if we must--if I must really go to-morrow----"

'Today is my only day; if Captain Lennox comes this afternoon, and if we must really go tomorrow-'


I am more and more convinced that this air is bad for you, and makes you look so pale and ill; besides, Edith expects us; and she may be waiting for me; and you cannot be left alone, my dear, at your age.

I am more and more convinced that this air is bad for you.


No; if you must make these calls, I will go with you.

If you must pay these calls, I will go with you.


So Mrs. Shaw went to take care of Margaret and took her maid with her to take care of the shawls and air-cushions.

So Mrs. Shaw and her maid went, with shawls and cushions.


Margaret's face was too sad to lighten up into a smile at all this preparation for paying two visits, that she had often made by herself at all hours of the day.

Margaret's face was too sad to lighten up into a smile at all this preparation for paying two visits that she had often made by herself at all hours of the day.


She was half afraid of owning that one place to which she was going was Nicholas Higgins'; all she could do was to hope her aunt would be indisposed to get out of the coach and walk up the court, and at every breath of wind have her face slapped by wet clothes, hanging out to dry on ropes stretched from house to house.

She was half afraid of owning that one of her visits was to Nicholas Higgins's, and was glad that her aunt stayed in the coach.


There was a little battle in Mrs. Shaw's mind between ease and a sense of matronly propriety; but the former gained the day; and with many an injunction to Margaret to be careful of herself, and not to catch any fever, such as was always lurking in such places, her aunt permitted her to go where she had often been before without taking any precaution or requiring any permission.


Nicholas was out; only Mary and one or two of the Boucher children at home.

Nicholas was out; only Mary and one or two of the Boucher children were at home.


Margaret was vexed with herself for not having timed her visit better.


Mary had a very blunt intellect, although her feelings were warm and kind; and the instant she understood what Margaret's purpose was in coming to see them, she began to cry and sob with so little restraint that Margaret found it useless to say any of the thousand little things which had suggested themselves to her as she was coming along in the coach.

Mary had a very blunt intellect, although her feelings were warm and kind; and the instant she understood why Margaret was coming to see them, she began to sob with so little restraint that Margaret found it useless to say any of the thousand little things which she had intended to.


She could only try to comfort her a little by suggesting the vague chance of their meeting again, at some possible time, in some possible place, and bid her tell her father how much she wished, if he could manage it, that he should come to see her when he had done his work in the evening.

She could only suggest vaguely that they might meet again, and bid her tell her father that she wished, if he could manage it, that he should come to see her that evening.


As she was leaving the place, she stopped and looked around; then hesitated a little before she said:

As she was leaving the place, she stopped and said:


"I should like to have some little thing to remind me of Bessy."

'I should like to have some little thing to remind me of Bessy.'


Instantly Mary's generosity was keenly alive.


And on Margaret's singling out a little common drinking-cup, which she remembered as the one always standing by Bessy's side with a drink for her feverish lips, Mary said:
"Oh, take summat better; that only cost fourpence!"

And on Margaret's singling out Bessy's little common drinking-cup, Mary said: 'Oh, take summut better; that only cost fourpence!'


"That will do, thank you," said Margaret; and she went quickly away, while the light caused by the pleasure of having something to give yet lingered on Mary's face.

'That will do, thank you,' said Margaret; and she went quickly away.


"Now to Mrs. Thornton's," thought she to herself.


But she looked rather rigid and pale at the thoughts of it, and had hard work to find the exact words in which to explain to her aunt who Mrs. Thornton was, and why she should go to bid her farewell.

But she looked rather pale at the thought of it, and had hard work to explain to her aunt who Mrs. Thornton was, and why she should bid her farewell.


They (for Mrs. Shaw alighted here) were shown into the drawing-room, in which a fire had only just been kindled.

Mrs. Shaw alighted here, and they were shown into Mrs. Thornton's drawing-room, in which a fire had only just been kindled.


Mrs. Shaw huddled herself up in her shawl and shivered.

Mrs. Shaw huddled herself in her shawl, and shivered.


They had to wait for some time before Mrs. Thornton entered.


There was some softening in her heart towards Margaret, now that she was going away out of her sight.

There was some softening in her heart towards Margaret, now that she was going away.


She remembered her spirit, as shown at various times and places, even more than the patience with which she had endured long and wearing cares.

She remembered her spirit, even more than the patience with which she had endured long and wearing cares.


Her countenance was blander than usual, as she greeted her; there was even a shade of tenderness in her manner, as she noticed the white, tear-swollen face, and the quiver in the voice which Margaret tried to make so steady.

There was even a shade of tenderness in her manner, as she noticed the white, tear-swollen face, and the quiver in the voice which Margaret tried to make steady.


"Allow me to introduce my aunt, Mrs. Shaw.

'Allow me to introduce my aunt, Mrs. Shaw.


I am going away from Milton to-morrow; I do not know if you are aware of it, but I wanted to see you once again, Mrs. Thornton, to--to apologize for my manner the last time I saw you; and to say that I am sure you meant kindly--however much we may have misunderstood each other."

I am going away from Milton tomorrow; and I wanted to see you once again, Mrs. Thornton, to - to apologise for my manner the last time I saw you; and to say that I am sure you meant kindly - however much we may have misunderstood each other.'


Mrs. Shaw looked extremely perplexed by what Margaret had said.

Mrs. Shaw looked extremely perplexed by this.


and apologies for failure in good manners!


"Miss Hale, I am glad you do me justice.

'Miss Hale, I am glad you do me justice.


I did no more than I believed to be my duty in remonstrating with you as I did.

I did what I believed to be my duty in remonstrating with you.


I have always desired to act the part of a friend to you.

I have always desired to act as a friend to you.'


"And," said Margaret, blushing excessively as she spoke, "will you do me justice, and believe that though I cannot--I do not choose--to give explanations of my conduct, I have not acted in the unbecoming way you apprehended?"

'And,' said Margaret, blushing excessively, 'will you do me justice, and believe that though I cannot - I do not choose - to give explanations of my conduct, I have not acted in the unbecoming way you thought?'


Margaret's voice was so soft, and her eyes so pleading, that Mrs. Thornton was for once affected by the charm of manner to which she had hitherto proved herself invulnerable.

Margaret's voice was so soft, and her eyes so pleading, that Mrs. Thornton was for once affected by the charm to which she had hitherto proved invulnerable.


Where are you going to reside, Miss Hale?

Where are you going to live, Miss Hale?'


I understood from Mr. Bell that you were going to leave Milton.


You never liked Milton, you know," said Mrs. Thornton, with a sort of grim smile; "but for all that, you must not expect me to congratulate you on quitting it.


"With my aunt," replied Margaret, turning towards Mrs. Shaw.

'With my aunt,' replied Margaret, turning towards Mrs. Shaw.


"My niece will reside with me in Harley Street.

'My niece will reside with me in Harley Street.


She is almost like a daughter to me," said Mrs. Shaw, looking fondly at Margaret; "and I am glad to acknowledge my own obligation for any kindness that has been shown to her.

She is almost like a daughter to me,' said Mrs. Shaw, looking fondly at Margaret.


If you and your husband ever come to the town, my son and daughter, Captain and Mrs. Lennox, will, I am sure, join with me in wishing to do anything in our power to show you attention."

'If you and your husband ever come to town, we will do anything in our power to show you attention.'


Mrs. Thornton thought in her own mind, that Margaret had not taken much care to enlighten her aunt as to the relationship between the Mr. and Mrs. Thornton, towards whom the fine-lady aunt was extending her soft patronage; so she answered shortly,

Mrs. Thornton thought that Margaret had not taken much care to enlighten her aunt about the relationship between Mr. and Mrs. Thornton.


I never go to London; so I am not likely to be able to avail myself of your polite offers."


At this instant Mr. Thornton entered the room; he had only just returned from Oxford. His mourning suit spoke of the reason that had called him there.

At this instant Mr. Thornton entered the room; he had only just returned from Oxford, and still wore his mourning suit.


"John," said his mother, "this lady is Mrs. Shaw, Miss Hale's aunt.

'John,' said his mother, 'this lady is Mrs. Shaw, Miss Hale's aunt.


I am sorry to say, that Miss Hale's call is to wish us good-bye."

I am sorry to say that Miss Hale's call is to wish us good-bye.'


"My son-in-law comes this evening to escort us," said Mrs. Shaw.

'My son-in-law comes this evening to escort us,' said Mrs. Shaw.