It was all very well; but her father's account of the relentless manner in which mutinies were punished made Margaret shiver and creep.

It was all very well; but her father's words made Margaret shiver.


If she had decoyed her brother home to blot out the memory of his error by his blood!

If she had decoyed her brother home to pay for his error by his blood!


She saw her father's anxiety lap deeper than the source of his latter cheering words.


She took his arm and walked home pensively and wearily by his side.


"The steps of the bearers, heavy and slow, The sobs of the mourners, deep and low."


At the time arranged the previous day, they set out on their walk to see Nicholas Higgins and his daughter.

At the time arranged, they set out on their walk to see Nicholas Higgins and his daughter.


They both were reminded of their recent loss, by a strange kind of shyness in their new habiliments, and in the fact that it was the first time, for many weeks, that they had deliberately gone out together. They drew very close to each other in unspoken sympathy.

They both felt a strange kind of shyness in their mourning clothes, and drew close to each other in unspoken sympathy.


Nicholas was sitting by the fire-side in his accustomed corner; but he had not his accustomed pipe. He was leaning his head upon his hand, his arm resting on his knee.

Nicholas was sitting by the fire-side in his accustomed corner, leaning his head upon his hand, his arm resting on his knee.


He did not get up when he saw them, though Margaret could read the welcome in his eye.


Fire's welly out," said he, giving it a vigorous poke, as if to turn attention away from himself.

Fire's nearly out,' said he, giving it a vigorous poke, as if to turn attention away from himself.


He was rather disorderly, to be sure, with a black unshaven beard of several days' growth, making his pale face look yet paler, and a jacket which would have been all the better for patching.

He was rather disorderly, to be sure, with several days' black growth of beard making his pale face look yet paler, and a well-worn jacket.


"We thought we should have a good chance of finding you, just after dinner-time," said Margaret.

'We thought we should have a good chance of finding you just after dinner-time,' said Margaret.


"We have had our sorrows too, since we saw you," said Mr. Hale.

'We have had our sorrow too, since we saw you,' said Mr. Hale.


Sorrows is more plentiful than dinners just now; I reckon, my dinner hour stretches all o'er the day; yo're pretty sure of finding me."

Sorrows is more plentiful than dinners just now; and my dinner hour stretches all day long; yo're pretty sure of finding me.'


Then, after a moment's silence, he added, looking up for the first time: "I'm not wanting brass.

Then, after a moment's silence, he added, looking up for the first time: 'I'm not wanting brass.


Bess, poor lass, had a little stock under her pillow, ready to slip into my hand, last moment, and Mary is fustian-cutting.

Bess, poor lass, had a little stock under her pillow ready to give me, and Mary is fustian-cutting.'


"We owe Mary some money," said Mr. Hale, before Margaret's sharp pressure on his arm could arrest the words.

'We owe Mary some money,' said Mr. Hale.


"If hoo takes it, I'll turn her out o' doors.

'If hoo takes it, I'll turn her out o' doors.'


I'll bide inside these four walls, and she'll bide out.


"But we owe her many thanks for her kind service," began Mr. Hale again.

'But we owe her many thanks for her kind service,' began Mr. Hale again.


"I ne'er thanken your daughter theer for her deeds o' love to my poor wench.

'I ne'er thanked your daughter there for her deeds o' love to my poor wench.


I'se have to begin to try now, if yo' start making an ado about what little Mary could sarve yo'."


"Is it because of the strike you're out of work?"

'Is it because of the strike you're out of work?'


I'm out o' work because I ne'er asked for it.


And I ne'er asked for it, because good words is scarce, and bad words is plentiful."

And I ne'er asked for it, because good words is scarce, and bad words is plentiful.'


He was in a mood to take a surly pleasure in giving answers that were like riddles.


But Margaret saw that he would like to be asked for the explanation.


I reckon them's almost the best words that men can say.


'Gi' me work' means 'and I'll do it like a man.'

"Gi' me work" means "and I'll do it like a man."


"And bad words are refusing you work when you ask for it."
"Ay. Bad words is saying 'Aha, my fine chap!

And bad words is saying "Aha, my fine chap!


Yo've been true to yo'r order, and I'll be true to mine.

Yo've been true to your order, and I'll be true to mine.


Yo' did the best yo' could for them as wanted help; that's yo're way of being true to yo're kind: and I'll be true to mine.


Yo've been a poor fool, as knowed no better nor be a true faithful fool. So go and be d--d to yo'.

Yo've been a poor faithful fool, so go and be d__d to yo'.


I'm not a fool; and if I was, folk ought to ha' taught me how to be wise after their fashion.

I'm not a fool; and if I was, folk ought to ha' taught me how to be wise.


I could m'appen ha' learnt, if any one had tried to teach me."

I could ha' learnt, if anyone had tried to teach me.'


"Would it not be worth while," said Mr. Hale, "to ask your old master if he would take you back again?

'Would it not be worth while,' said Mr. Hale, 'to ask your old master if he would take you back again?'


It might be a poor chance, but it would be a chance."


He looked up again, with a sharp glance at the questioner; and then tittered a low and bitter laugh.


if it's no offence, I'll ask yo' a question or two in my turn."

if it's no offence, I'll ask yo' a question or two in my turn.'


"I reckon yo'n some way of earning your bread.

'I reckon yo'n some way of earning your bread.'


Folk seldom lives i' Milton just for pleasure, if they can live anywhere else."


I have some independent property, but my intention in settling in Milton was to become a private tutor."


"To teach folk. Well! I reckon they pay yo' for teaching them, dunnot they?"


"And them that pays yo', dun they tell yo' whatten to do, or whatten not to do wi' the money they gives you in just payment for your pains--in fair exchange like?"

'And them that pays yo', dun they tell yo' what to do wi' the money they give you?'


"They dunnot say, 'Yo' may have a brother, or a friend as dear as a brother, who wants this here brass for a purpose both yo' and he think right; but yo' mun promise not give it to him. Yo' may see a good use, as yo' think, to put yo'r money to; but we don't think it good, and so if yo' spend it a-thatens we'll just leave off dealing with yo'.'

'They dunnot say, "Yo' may have a brother, or a dear friend, who needs this brass; but yo' mun promise not to give it to him, or we'll just leave off dealing with yo'."


"It would be some very hard pressure that would make me even think of submitting to such dictation."


"There's not the pressure on all the broad earth that would make me," said Nicholas Higgins. "Now yo've got it.

'Now yo've got it,' said Nicholas Higgins.


Hampers--that's where I worked--makes their men pledge 'emselves they'll not give a penny to help th' Union or keep turn-outs fro' clemming.

'Hamper's - where I worked - makes their men pledge they'll not give a penny to help th' Union or keep turnouts fro' clemming.


They may pledge and make pledge," continued he, scornfully; "they nobbut make liars and hypocrites.


And that's a less sin, to my mind, to make men's hearts so hard that they'll not do a kindness to them as needs it, or help on the right and just cause, though it goes again the strong hand.

And that's a less sin, to my mind, than making men's hearts so hard that they'll not do a kindness to them as needs it.


But I'll ne'er forswear mysel' for a' the work the king could gi'e me.


I'm a member o' the Union; and I think it's the only thing to do the workmen any good.

I'm a member o' the Union; and I think it's the only thing to do the workman any good.


And I've been a turn-out, and known what it was to clem; so if I get a shilling, sixpence shall go to them if they axe it from me.

And I've been a turn-out, and known what it were to clem; so if I get a shilling, sixpence shall go to them who needs it.


Consequence is, I dunnot see where I'm to get a shilling."

Consequence is, I dunnot see where I'm to get a shilling.'


"Is that rule about not contributing to the Union in force at all the mills?"

'Is that rule in force at all the mills?'


It's a new regulation at ours; and I reckon they'll find that they cannot stick to it.


By-and-by they'll find out, tyrants makes liars."

But by-and-by they'll find out, tyrants makes liars.'


Margaret was hesitating whether she should say what was in her mind; she was unwilling to irritate one who was always gloomy and despondent enough.

Margaret was hesitating whether to say what was in her mind; she was unwilling to irritate one who was already gloomy enough.


But in her soft tones, and with her reluctant manner, shewing that she was unwilling to say anything unpleasant, it did not seem to annoy Higgins, only to perplex him.

But in her soft tones it did not seem to annoy Higgins, only to perplex him.


"Do you remember poor Boucher saying that the Union was a tyrant?

'Do you remember poor Boucher saying that the Union was a tyrant?


I think he said it was the worse tyrant of all.

I think he said it was the worst tyrant of all.'


And I remember, at the time I agreed with him."


He was resting his head on his two hands, and looking down into the fire, so she could not read the expression on his face.

He was looking down into the fire, so she could not read the expression on his face.


"I'll not deny but what th' Union finds it necessary to force a man into his own good.


A man leads a dree life who's not i' th' Union.

A man leads a hard life who's not i' th' Union.


But once i' th' Union, his interests are taken care on better nor he could do it for himsel', or by himsel', for that matter.

But once i' the' Union, his interests are taken care on better nor he could do it for himsel'.


It's the only way working men can get their rights, by all joining together.


More the members, more chance for each one separate man having justice done him.

More the members, more chance for each man having justice done him.


Government takes care o' fools and madmen; and if any man is inclined to do himsel' or his neighbour a hurt, it puts a bit of a check on him, whether he likes it or no.

If any man is inclined to do himsel' or his neighbour a hurt, it puts a check on him.


We can't clap folk into prison; but we can make a man's life so heavy to be borne, that he's obliged to come in, and be wise and helpful in spite of himsel'.

We can't clap folk into prison; but we can make a man's life so heavy that he's obliged to come in, and be wise in spite of himself.


Boucher were a fool all along, and ne'er a worse fool than at th' last."


We had public opinion on our side, till he and his sort began rioting and breaking laws.


"Then would it not have been far better to have left him alone, and not forced him to join the Union?

'Then would it not have been better to have left him alone, and not forced him to join the Union?


He did you no good; and you drove him mad."

He did you no good; and you drove him mad.'


"Margaret," said her father, in a low and warning tone, for he saw the cloud gathering on Higgins's face.

'Margaret,' said her father, in a low and warning tone.


"Hoo speaks plain out what's in her mind.

'Hoo speaks plain out what's in her mind.


Hoo doesn't comprehend th' Union for all that.


It's a great power: it's our only power.


I ha' read a bit o' poetry about a plough going o'er a daisy, as made tears come into my eyes, afore I'd other cause for crying.

I ha' read a bit o' poetry about a plough going o'er a daisy, as made tears come into my eyes.


But the chap ne'er stopped driving the plough, I'se warrant, for all he was pitiful about the daisy.

But the chap ne'er stopped driving the plough, for all he pitied the daisy.


Th' Union's the plough, making ready the land for harvest-time.


Such as Boucher--'twould be settin' him up too much to liken him to a daisy; he's liker a weed lounging over the ground--mun just made up their mind to be put out o' the way.

Such as Boucher - he's no daisy; he's liker a weed lounging over the ground - they must make up their mind to be put out o' the way.


I could go o'er him wi' a plough mysel', wi' a' the pleasure in life."

I could go o'er him wi' a plough mysel'.'


First of a' he must go raging like a mad fool, and kick up yon riot.

First he must go raging like a mad fool, and kick up yon riot.


Then he'd to go into hiding, where he'd a been yet, if Thornton had followed him out as I'd hoped he would ha' done.


But Thornton, having got his own purpose, didn't care to go on wi' the prosecution for the riot. So Boucher slunk back again to his house.

And when Thornton didn't follow him nor go on wi' the prosecution, Boucher slunk back again to his house.


He ne'er showed himsel' abroad for a day or two.


He went wi' his mealy-mouthed face, that turns me sick to look at, a-asking for work, though he knowed well enough the new rule, o' pledging themselves to give nought to th' Unions; nought to help the starving turn-out!

He went wi' his mealy-mouthed face, asking for work, though he knowed well enough the new rule, o' pledging to give nought to th' Unions!


Why he'd a clemmed to death, if th' Union had na helped him in his pinch.

Why, he'd a clemmed to death, if th' Union had na helped him.


There he went, ossing to promise aught, and pledge himsel' to aught--to tell a' he know'd on our proceedings, the good-for-nothing Judas!


But I'll say this for Hamper, and thank him for it at my dying day, he drove Boucher away, and would na listen to him--ne'er a word--though folk standing by, says the traitor cried like a babby!"

But I'll say this for Hamper, he drove Boucher away, and would na listen to him, though folk says the traitor cried like a babby!'


Don't you see how you've made Boucher what he is, by driving him into the Union against his will--without his heart going with it.

Don't you see how you've made Boucher what he is, by driving him into the Union against his will!'


Gathering, gathering along the narrow street, came a hollow, measured sound; now forcing itself on their attention.

Gathering along the narrow street, came a hollow, measured sound, forcing itself on their attention.


Many voices were hushed and low: many steps were heard, not moving onwards, at least not with any rapidity or steadiness of motion, but as if circling round one spot. Yes, there was one distinct, slow tramp of feet, which made itself a clear path through the air, and reached their ears; the measured laboured walk of men carrying a heavy burden.

Many voices were hushed and low: there was a distinct, slow tramp of feet, the laboured walk of men carrying a heavy burden.


They were all drawn towards the house-door by some irresistible impulse; impelled thither--not by a poor curiosity, but as if by some solemn blast.

They were all drawn towards the house-door by some impulse.


Six men walked in the middle of the road, three of them being policemen.

Six men walked in the middle of the road, three of them policemen.


They carried a door, taken off its hinges, upon their shoulders, on which lay some dead human creature; and from each side of the door there were constant droppings.

Upon their shoulders they carried a door, taken off its hinges, on which lay some dead human creature; and the door was dripping.


All the street turned out to see, and, seeing, to accompany the procession, each one questioning the bearers, who answered almost reluctantly at last, so often had they told the tale.

All the street turned out to see the procession, questioning the bearers, who answered reluctantly at last.


"We found him i' th' brook in the field beyond there."

'We found him i' th' brook in the field beyond there.'


"Th' brook!--why there's not water enough to drown him!"

'Th' brook! - why, there's not water enough to drown him!'


He was sick enough o' living, choose what cause he had for it."


Higgins crept up to Margaret's side, and said in a weak piping kind of voice: "It's not John Boucher?

Higgins said in a weak, high voice: 'It's not John Boucher?


I've a singing in my head, and I cannot hear."

I've a singing in my head, and cannot hear.'


They put the door down carefully upon the stones, and all might see the poor drowned wretch--his glassy eyes, one half-open, staring right upwards to the sky.

They put the door down carefully, and all might see the poor drowned wretch - his glassy eyes staring upwards to the sky.


Owing to the position in which he had been found lying, his face was swollen and discoloured; besides, his skin was stained by the water in the brook, which had been used for dyeing purposes.

His face was swollen and discoloured; his skin was stained by the water in the brook, which had been used for dyeing purposes.


The fore part of his head was bald; but the hair grew thin and long behind, and every separate lock was a conduit for water.


Through all these disfigurements, Margaret recognised John Boucher.


It seemed to her so sacrilegious to be peering into that poor distorted, agonised face, that, by a flash of instinct, she went forwards and softly covered the dead man's countenance with her handkerchief.

It seemed to be so sacrilegious to be peering into that poor distorted face, that she instinctively went forwards and softly covered the dead man's countenance with her handkerchief.


The eyes that saw her do this followed her, as she turned away from her pious office, and were thus led to the place where Nicholas Higgins stood, like one rooted to the spot.

Nicholas Higgins stood rooted to the spot.


The men spoke together, and then one of them came up to Higgins, who would have fain shrunk back into his house.

The men spoke together, and then one of them came up to Higgins.


Do it gently, man, but do it quick, for we canna leave him here long."

Do it gently, man, but do it quick, for we canna leave him here long.'


"We'n done a deal in bringing him here--thou take thy share."


It's a dree task; but it's a chance, every minute, as she doesn't hear on it in some rougher way nor a person going to make her let on by degrees, as it were."

It's a dree task; but it's a chance, every minute, that she'll hear on it some rougher way.'


"Papa, do you go," said Margaret, in a low voice.

'Papa, you go,' said Margaret, in a low voice.


"If I could--if I had time to think of what I had better say; but all at once----" Margaret saw that her father was indeed unable.

'If I had time to think of what to say; but all at once-' Margaret saw that her father was trembling.


"Bless yo' miss, it will be a kind act; for she's been but a sickly sort o' body, I hear, and few hereabouts know much on her."

'Bless yo', miss, it will be a kind act; for she's been sickly, I hear, and few hereabouts know her.'


Margaret knocked at the closed door; but there was such a noise, as of many little ill-ordered children, that she could hear no reply; indeed, she doubted if she was heard, and as every moment of delay made her recoil from her task more and more, she opened the door and went in, shutting it after her, and even, unseen by the woman, fastening the bolt.

Margaret knocked at the closed door; but there was such a noise of many little children, that she could hear no reply; indeed, she doubted if she was heard. Before she could recoil from her task, she opened the door and went in.


Mrs. Boucher was sitting in a rocking-chair, on the other side of the ill-redd-up fireplace; it looked as if the house had been untouched for days by any effort at cleanliness.

Mrs. Boucher was sitting in a rocking-chair by the dirty fireplace; it looked as if the house had not been cleaned for days.


Margaret said something, she hardly knew what, her throat and mouth were so dry, and the children's noise completely prevented her from being heard.

Margaret said something, she hardly knew what, her throat and mouth were so dry, and the children's noise so great.


"I've chance o' being well," said she querulously.

'I've no chance o' being well,' said she querulously.


"I'm left alone to manage these childer, and nought for to give 'em for to keep 'em quiet.

'I'm left alone to manage these childer, and no food to keep 'em quiet.


John should na ha' left me, and me so poorly."


No one would give him work here, and he'd to go on tramp toward Greenfield.


But he might ha' been back afore this, or sent me some word if he'd getten work.


"Willto' hold thy din, and let me hear the lady speak!"

'Willto' hold thy din, and let me hear the lady speak!'


addressing herself, in no very gentle voice, to a little urchin of about a year old.

she said, in no gentle voice, to a little urchin of about a year old.


She apologetically continued to Margaret, "He's always mithering me for 'daddy' and 'butty'; and I ha' no butties to give him, and daddy's away, and forgotten us a', I think.

She apologised to Margaret. 'He's always mithering me for "daddy" and "butty;" and I ha' no butties to give him, and daddy's forgotten us, I think.


He's his father's darling, he is," said she, with a sudden turn of mood, and, dragging the child up to her knee, she began kissing it fondly.

He's his father's darling, he is.' With a sudden turn of mood, she began kissing the child fondly.


Margaret laid her hand on the woman's arm to arrest her attention.

Margaret laid her hand on the woman's arm.


said Margaret, slowly; "he _was_ his father's darling."

said Margaret, slowly; 'he was his father's darling.'


"He _is_ his father's darling," said the woman, rising hastily, and standing face to face with Margaret.

'He is his father's darling,' said the woman, rising hastily to face her.


Neither of them spoke for a moment or two.


Then Mrs. Boucher began in a low growling tone, gathering in wildness as she went on: "He _is_ his father's darling, I say.

Then Mrs. Boucher began in a low tone, gathering in wildness: 'He is his father's darling, I say.


Poor folk can love their childer as well as rich.


Why dun yo' stare at me wi' your great pitiful eyes?


Weak as she was, she shook Margaret to force out an answer.


said she, understanding the meaning of that tearful look.


Margaret took up the child and put him into her arms.

Margaret lifted the child and put him into her arms.


"Ay," said the woman, shaking her head, "he loved us a'.

'Ay,' said the woman, shaking her head, 'he loved us a'.


It's a long time ago; but when he were in life and with us he did love us, he did.

It's a long time ago; but he did love us, he did.


He loved this babby mappen the best on us; but he loved me and I loved him, though I was calling him five minutes agone.

He loved this babby the best; but he loved me and I loved him, though I was calling him five minutes ago.


"If it's only that he's ill and like to die, they may bring him round yet.


I'm but an ailing creature mysel'--I've been ailing this long time."


"Folk are brought round after they're dead-drowned.

'Folk are brought round after they're dead-drowned.


Whatten was I thinking of, to sit still when I should be stirring mysel'?


tak' this, tak' aught to play wi', but dunnot cry while my heart's breaking!


Margaret saved her from falling by catching her in her arms.


She sate down in the rocking chair, and held the woman upon her knees, her head lying on Margaret's shoulder.

She sat down and held the woman, her head lying on Margaret's shoulder.


The other children, clustered together in affright, began to understand the mystery of the scene; but the ideas came slowly, for their brains were dull and languid of perception.

The other children, clustered together in affright, began to slowly understand the mystery of the scene; for their brains were dull and languid.


They set up such a cry of despair as they guessed the truth, that Margaret knew not how to bear it.

Then they set up such a cry of despair that Margaret knew not how to bear it.


Johnny's cry was loudest of them all, though he knew not why he cried, poor little fellow.

Johnnie's cry was loudest of them all, though he knew not why he cried, poor little fellow.


The mother quivered as she lay in Margaret's arms. Margaret heard a noise at the door.

As she held the quivering mother, Margaret heard a noise at the door.


Open it quick," said she to the eldest child.

'Open it quick,' said she to the eldest child.


"It's bolted; make no noise--be very still.


Oh, papa, let them go upstairs very softly and carefully, and perhaps she will not hear them.

Seeing her father with the other men, she told him, 'Oh, papa, let them go upstairs very softly, and perhaps she will not hear them.


"It's as well for her, poor creature," said a woman following in the wake of the bearers of the dead.

'It's as well for her, poor creature,' said a woman following the bearers of the dead.


Stay, I'll run fetch a pillow, and we'll let her down easy on the floor."

'Stay, I'll run fetch a pillow and we'll let her down easy on the floor.'


This helpful neighbour was a great relief to Margaret; she was evidently a stranger to the house, a new-comer in the district, indeed; but she was so kind and thoughtful that Margaret felt she was no longer needed; and that it would be better, perhaps, to set an example of clearing the house, which was filled with idle, if sympathising gazers.

This helpful neighbour was a great relief to Margaret; she was a new-comer in the district, but so kind and thoughtful that Margaret felt she was no longer needed; and that it would be better, perhaps, to leave and set an example of clearing the house, which was filled with idle, if sympathising gazers.


So she spoke to the woman who had taken the lead in placing Mrs. Boucher on the floor.

So she spoke to the woman who had helped in placing Mrs. Boucher on the floor.


"Can you give all these people a hint that they had better leave in quietness?

'Can you give these people a hint that they had better leave quietly?


So that when she comes round, she could only find one or two that she knows about her.

When she comes round, she should only find one or two that she knows.


Papa, will you speak to the men, and get them to go away.


She cannot breathe, poor thing, with this crowd about her."

She cannot breathe, poor thing, with this crowd about her.'


Margaret was kneeling down by Mrs. Boucher and bathing her face with vinegar; but in a few minutes she was surprised at the gush of fresh air.

Margaret was kneeling down by Mrs. Boucher and bathing her face with vinegar; but in a few minutes she felt a gust of fresh air.


She looked round, and saw a smile pass between her father and the woman.


"Only our good friend here," replied her father, "hit on a capital expedient for clearing the place."

'Our good friend here,' replied her father, 'hit on a capital expedient for clearing the place.'


"I did 'em begone, and each take a child with 'em, and to mind that they were orphans, and their mother a widow.

'I bid 'em begone, and each take a child with 'em, and to mind that they were fatherless, and their mother a widow.


It was who could do most, and the childer are sure of a bellyful to-day, and of kindness too.

The childer are sure of a bellyful today, and of kindness too.


"No," said Margaret; "I could not tell her all at once."

'No,' said Margaret; 'I could not tell her all.'


"Hoo mun be told because of th' Inquest.


Hoo's coming round; shall you or I do it?


They awaited her perfect recovery in silence. Then the neighbour woman sat down on the floor, and took Mrs. Boucher's head and shoulders on her lap.

As Mrs. Boucher recovered, the neighbour woman sat down on the floor, and took Mrs. Boucher's head and shoulders on her lap.


"Neighbour," said she, "your man is dead.

'Neighbour,' said she, 'your man is dead.


"He were drowned," said Mrs. Boucher, feebly, beginning to cry for the first time, at this rough probing of her sorrows.

'He were drowned,' said Mrs. Boucher, feebly, beginning to cry for the first time.


He were coming home very hopeless o' aught on earth.


He thought God could na be harder than men; mappen not so hard; mappen as tender as a mother; mappen tenderer.

He thought God could na be harder than men; happen as tender as a mother, or tenderer.


I'm not saying he did right, and I'm not saying he did wrong.


All I say is, may neither me nor mine ever have his sore heart, or we may do like things."

All I say is, may neither me nor mine ever have his sore heart.'


"He has left me alone wi' a' these children!"

'He has left me alone wi' a' these children!'


moaned the widow, less distressed at the manner of the death than Margaret expected; but it was of a piece with her helpless character to feel his loss as principally affecting herself and her children.

moaned the widow, less distressed at the manner of the death than Margaret expected.


The widow opened her eyes wide, and looked at the new speaker, of whose presence she had not been aware till then.


"Who has promised to be a father to the fatherless?"

Who has promised to be a father to the fatherless?'


"But I've getten six children, sir, and the eldest not eight years of age.

'But I've getten six children, sir, and the eldest not eight years of age.


I'm not meaning for to doubt His power, sir,--only it needs a deal o' trust"; and she began to cry afresh.

I'm not meaning for to doubt His power, sir - only it needs a deal o' trust;' and she began to cry afresh.


"Hoo'll be better able to talk to-morrow, sir," said the neighbour.

'Hoo'll be better able to talk tomorrow, sir,' said the neighbour.


"Best comfort now would be the feel of a child at her heart.

'Best comfort now would be the feel of a child at her heart.


And in a few minutes she returned, carrying Johnnie, his face all smeared with eating, and his hands loaded with treasures in the shape of shells, and bits of crystal, and the head of a plaster figure.

And in a few minutes she returned, carrying Johnnie, his face all smeared with eating, and his hands loaded with treasures in the shape of shells, and the head of a plaster figure.


They'll cry together, and comfort together, better nor any one but a child can do.

They'll cry together, and comfort together.


I'll stop with her as long as I'm needed, and if you come to-morrow, you' can have a deal o' wise talk with her, that she's not up to to-day."

I'll stop with her as long as I'm needed, and if yo' come tomorrow, yo' can talk with her.'


As Margaret and her father went slowly up the street, she paused at Higgins's closed door.


There was no answer, so they tried the door.


It was bolted, but they thought they heard him moving within.


There was no answer, and they might have gone away, believing the house to be empty, if there had not been some accidental fall, as of a book, within.


"I spoke as plain as I could, 'bout using words, when I bolted th' door.


Mr. Hale would have urged their desire, but Margaret placed her finger on his lips.

Mr. Hale would have protested, but Margaret placed her finger on his lips.


"I myself long to be alone. It seems the only thing to do one good after a day like this."

'I myself long to be alone, after a day like this.'


"Nay, I have done; you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart, That thus so clearly I myself am free."


Margaret shut herself up in her own room, after she had quitted Mrs. Thornton.

After leaving Mrs. Thornton, Margaret shut herself up in her room.


She began to walk backwards and forwards, in her old habitual way of showing agitation; but, then, remembering that in that slightly-built house every step was heard from one room to another, she sate down until she heard Mrs. Thornton go safely out of the house. She forced herself to recollect all the conversation that had passed between them; speech by speech, she compelled her memory to go through with it.

She began to walk backwards and forwards, but then, remembering that in that house every step was heard from one room to another, she sat down and forced herself to recollect the conversation.


At the end, she rose up, and said to herself, in a melancholy tone:


"At any rate, her words do not touch me; they fall off from me; for I am innocent of all the motives she attributes to me.

'Her words do not touch me; for I am innocent of the motives she attributes to me.


But still, it is hard to think that any one--any woman--can believe all this of another so easily.

But still, it is hard to think that any woman can believe all this of another so easily.


Where I have done wrong, she does not accuse me--she does not know.

Where I have done wrong, she does not accuse me.


He never told her: I might have known he would not!"

He never told her: I might have known he would not!'


She lifted up her head, as if she took pride in any delicacy of feeling which Mr. Thornton had shown.

She lifted up her head, as if she took pride in Mr. Thornton's delicacy of feeling.


Then, as a new thought came across her, she pressed her hands tightly together:

Then, at a new thought, she pressed her hands tightly together.


"He, too, must take poor Frederick for some lover."

'He, too, must take poor Frederick for some lover.


(She blushed as the word passed through her mind.)


It is not merely that he knows of my falsehood, but he believes that some one else cares for me; and that I---- Oh dear!--oh dear!

It is not merely that he knows of my falsehood, but he believes that I - Oh dear! Oh dear!


Why do I care what he thinks, beyond the mere loss of his good opinion as regards my telling the truth or not?


Oh, how unhappy this last year has been!


I have passed out of childhood into old age.


I have had no youth--no womanhood; the hopes of womanhood have closed for me--for I shall never marry; and I anticipate cares and sorrows just as if I were an old woman, and with the same tearful spirit.

The hopes of womanhood have closed for me - I shall never marry.


I feel as worn-down and fearful as an old woman; I am weary of this continual call upon me for strength.


I could bear up for papa; because that is a natural, pious duty. And I think I could bear up against--at any rate, I could have the energy to resent, Mrs. Thornton's unjust, impertinent suspicions.

I could bear up for papa; and I think I could bear up against Mrs. Thornton's unjust suspicions.


But it is hard to feel how completely he must misunderstand me.


What has happened to make me so morbid to-day?


No, I will not though," said she, springing to her feet.

No, I will not, though,' said she, springing to her feet.


"I will not--I _will_ not think of myself and my own position.


Some time, if I live to be an old woman, I may sit over the fire, and looking into the embers, see the life that might have been."

If I live to be an old woman, then I may sit over the fire, and looking into the embers, see the life that might have been.'


All this time she was hastily putting on her things to go out, only stopping from time to time to wipe her eyes, with an impatience of gesture at the tears that would come again, in spite of all her bravery.

All this time, she was hastily putting on her things to go out, only stopping to wipe her eyes impatiently.


"I dare say there's many a woman makes as sad a mistake as I have done, and only finds it out too late.

'I dare say, there's many a woman makes as sad a mistake as I have done, and only finds it out too late.


And how proudly and impertinently I spoke to him that day!

And how proudly I spoke to him that day!


It has come upon me little by little, and I don't know where it began.


I shall find it difficult to behave in the same way to him, with this miserable consciousness upon me; but I will be very calm and very quiet, and say very little.

I shall find it difficult to behave in the same way to him; but I will be very calm, and say little.


But, to be sure, I may not see him; he keeps out of our way evidently.

But, to be sure, I may not see him; he keeps out of our way.


And yet no wonder that he avoids me, believing what he must about me."

No wonder, believing what he must about me.'


She went out, going rapidly towards the country, and trying to drown reflection by swiftness of motion.

She went out, going rapidly towards the country, and trying to drown reflection by walking swiftly.


As she stood on the door-step, at her return, her father came up:

On her return, her father met her on the door-step.


I was just meaning to go there, if I had time, before dinner."


"No, papa; I have not," said Margaret, reddening.

'No, papa; I have not,' said Margaret, reddening.


But I will go directly after dinner; I will go while you are taking your nap."


Mrs. Boucher was very ill; really ill--not merely ailing.


The kind and sensible neighbour, who had come in the other day, seemed to have taken charge of everything.


Some of the children were gone to the neighbours.


Mary Higgins had come for the three youngest at dinner-time; and since then Nicholas had gone for the doctor.

Mary Higgins had come for the three youngest at dinner-time; and Nicholas had gone for the doctor.


He had not come as yet; Mrs. Boucher was dying; and there was nothing to do but wait.

Mrs. Boucher was dying; and there was nothing to do but to wait.


Margaret thought that she should like to hear his opinion, and that she could not do better than go and see the Higginses in the meantime.

Margaret thought that she had better go and visit the Higginses in the meantime.


She might then possibly hear whether Nicholas had been able to make his application to Mr. Thornton.

She might hear whether Nicholas had been able to see Mr. Thornton.


She found Nicholas busily engaged in making a penny spin on the dresser, for the amusement of three little children, who were clinging to him in a fearless manner.

She found Nicholas busy amusing the three little children, by spinning pennies.


He, as well as they, was smiling at a good long spin; and Margaret thought, that the happy look of interest in his occupation was a good sign.

He, and they, were smiling at a good long spin; and Margaret thought that was a good sign.


When the penny stopped spinning, "lile Johnnie" began to cry.

When the penny stopped spinning, little Johnnie began to cry.


"Come to me," said Margaret, taking him off the dresser, and holding him in her arms; she held her watch to his ear, while she asked Nicholas if he had seen Mr. Thornton.

'Come to me,' said Margaret, holding him in her arms and putting her watch to his ear, while she asked Nicholas if he had seen Mr. Thornton.


It's no good expecting marcy at the hands o' them measters.'


Yo'r a stranger and a foreigner, and aren't likely to know their ways; but I knowed it."


He did not speak to you as Hamper did, did he?"


said Nicholas, spinning the penny again, as much for his own amusement as for that of the children.

said Nicholas, spinning the penny again.


I telled him, I'd not that good opinion on him that I'd ha' come a second time of mysel'; but yo'd advised me for to come, and I were beholden to yo'."

I telled him, I'd only come because yo'd advised me to, and I were beholden to yo'.'


I said a woman who knew no better had advised me for to come and see if there was a soft place in his heart."

I said, a woman who knew no better had advised me for to come and see if there was a soft place in his heart.'


"Said I were to tell yo' to mind yo'r own business.--That's the longest spin yet, my lads.--And them's civil words to what he used to me.

'Said I were to tell yo' to mind your own business. That's the longest spin yet, my lads.


We're but where we was; and I'll break stones on the road afore I let these little uns clem."

We're but where we was; and I'll break stones on th' road afore I let these little uns clem.'


Margaret put the struggling Johnnie out of her arms, back into his former place on the dresser.
"I am sorry I asked you to go to Mr. Thornton's.

'I am sorry I asked you to go to Mr. Thornton's,' said Margaret.


Both she and Nicholas turned round at the same moment, and there stood Mr. Thornton, with a look of displeased surprise upon his face.

They both turned, and there stood Mr. Thornton, with a look of displeased surprise upon his face.


Obeying her swift impulse, Margaret passed out before him, saying not a word, only bowing low to hide the sudden paleness that she felt had come over her face.

Swiftly Margaret went out past him, saying not a word, only bowing low to hide her face.


He bent equally low in return, and then closed the door after her.


As she hurried to Mrs. Boucher's, she heard the clang, and it seemed to fill up the measure of her mortification.


He had tenderness in his heart--"a soft place," as Nicholas Higgins called it; but he had some pride in concealing it; he kept it very sacred and safe, and was jealous of every circumstance that tried to gain admission.

He had tenderness in his heart; but he kept it very sacred and safe.


But if he dreaded exposure of his tenderness, he was equally desirous that all men should recognise his justice; and he felt that he had been unjust in giving so scornful a hearing to any one who had waited, with humble patience, for five hours, to speak to him.

However, if he dreaded exposure of his tenderness, he equally wished that men should recognise his justice; and he felt that he had been unjust in giving so scornful a hearing to anyone who had waited patiently for five hours to speak to him.


That the man had spoken saucily to him when he had the opportunity, was nothing to Mr. Thornton.

That the man had then spoken saucily was nothing to Mr. Thornton.


He rather liked him for it; and he was conscious of his own irritability of temper at the time, which probably made them both quits.

He rather liked him for it; and he was conscious of his own irritability, which probably made them quits.


It was the five hours of waiting that struck Mr. Thornton.


He had not five hours to spare, himself; but one hour--two hours, of his hard penetrating intellectual, as well as bodily labour, did he give up to going about collecting evidence as to the truth of Higgins's story, the nature of his character, the tenor of his life.

He spent two hours himself going about collecting evidence of the truth of Higgins's story and the nature of his character.


He tried not to be, but was convinced that all that Higgins had said was true.


And then the conviction went in, as if by some spell, and touched the latent tenderness of his heart; the patience of the man, the simple generosity of the motive (for he had learnt about the quarrel between Boucher and Higgins), made him forget entirely the mere reasonings of justice, and overleap them by a diviner instinct.

And then the conviction touched the latent tenderness of his heart. The man's patience and generosity made him forget entirely the mere reasonings of justice.


He came to tell Higgins he would give him work; and he was more annoyed to find Margaret there than by hearing her last words; for then he understood that she was the woman who had urged Higgins to come to him; and he dreaded the admission of any thought of her, as a motive to what he was doing solely because it was right.

He came to tell Higgins he would give him work; and he was annoyed to find Margaret there because then he understood that she was the woman who had urged Higgins to come to him; and he was doing this not because of her, but solely because it was right.


"So that was the lady you spoke of as a woman?"


"And then, maybe, yo'd have spoken of her more civil than yo' did; yo'd getten a mother who might ha' kept yo'r tongue in check when yo' were talking o' women being at the root of all the plagues."

'And then, maybe, yo'd ha' spoken of her more civil than yo' did when yo' were talking o' women being at the root o' all plagues.'


I telled her she weren't to meddle again in aught that concerned yo'."

Leastways, I telled her she weren't to meddle again in aught that concerned yo'.'


Mr. Thornton had a pretty good notion whose they were, from what he had heard; but he felt awkward in turning the conversation round from this unpromising beginning.


"They are the children you spoke of to me this morning?"

'They are the children you spoke of this morning?'


"When yo' said," replied Higgins, turning round, with ill-smothered fierceness, "that my story might be true or might not, but it were a very unlikely one.

'When yo' said,' replied Higgins fiercely, 'that my story might be true or might not, but it were a very unlikely one.'


Mr. Thornton was silent for a moment; then he said: "No more have I. I remember what I said.


I spoke to you about those children in a way I had no business to.

Then he said: 'I spoke to you about those children in a way I had no business to do.


I could not have taken care of another man's children myself, if he had acted towards me as I hear Boucher did towards you.


Higgins did not turn round, or immediately respond to this.

Higgins did not immediately respond to this.


But when he did speak, it was in a softened tone, although the words were gruff enough.

But when he did speak, it was in a softened tone, although the words were gruff.


"Yo've no business to go prying into what happened between Boucher and me.

'Yo've no business to go prying into what happened between Boucher and me.


Higgins's obstinacy wavered, recovered strength, and stood firm. He would not speak. Mr. Thornton would not ask again. Higgins's eye fell on the children.

Higgins wavered: and then his eye fell on the children.


"Yo've called me impudent, and a liar, and a mischief-maker, and yo' might ha' said wi' some truth, as I were now and then given to drink.

'Yo've called me impudent, and a liar, and a mischief-maker, and happen wi' some truth, as I were now and then given to drink.


An', I ha' called you a tyrant, an' an oud bull dog, and a hard, cruel master; that's where it stands.

An' I ha' called you a tyrant, an' an oud bull-dog, and a hard, cruel master; that's where it stands.


But for th' childer, Measter, do yo' think we can e'er get on together?"

But for th' childer, Measter, do yo' think we can get on together?'


said Mr. Thornton, half-laughing, "it was not my proposal that we should go together. But there's one comfort on your own showing. We neither of us can think much worse of the other than we do now."

said Mr. Thornton, half-laughing, 'we neither of us can think much worse of the other than we do now.'


"That's true," said Higgins, reflectively.

'That's true,' said Higgins, reflectively.


"I've been thinking ever sin' I saw you, what a marcy it were yo' did na take me on, for that I ne'er saw a man whom I could less abide.


But that's maybe been a hasty judgment; and work's work to such as me.


So, measter, I'll come; and what's more, I thank yo'; and that's a deal fro' me," said he, more frankly, suddenly turning round and facing Mr. Thornton fully for the first time.

'So, measter, I'll come; and what's more, I thank yo'; and that's a deal fro' me.'


"And this is a deal from me," said Mr. Thornton, giving Higgins's hand a good grip.

'And this is a deal from me,' said Mr. Thornton, gripping his hand.


"Now mind you come sharp to your time," continued he, resuming the master.


What fines we have, we keep pretty sharply.


And the first time I catch you making mischief, off you go.


I reckon I may bring it wi' me; or would yo' rayther have me 'bout my brains?"

'Would yo' rayther have me wi'out my brains?'


"'Bout your brains if you use them for meddling with my business; with your brains if you can keep to your own."

'Without your brains if you use them for meddling with my business; with your brains if you can keep them for your own.'


"I shall need a deal o' brains to settle where my business ends and yo'rs begins."

'I shall need a deal o' brains to settle where my business ends and yours begins.'


"Your business has not begun yet, and mine stands still for me.


Just before Mr. Thornton came up to Mrs. Boucher's door, Margaret came out of it.


She did not see him; and he followed her for several yards, admiring her light and easy walk, and her tall and graceful figure.

She did not see him; and he followed her for several yards, admiring her light and graceful walk.


But, suddenly, this simple emotion of pleasure was tainted, poisoned by jealousy.

But, suddenly, this simple emotion of pleasure was poisoned by jealousy.


He wished to overtake her, and speak to her, to see how she would receive him, now she must know he was aware of some other attachment.


He wished too, but of this wish he was rather ashamed, that she should know that he had justified her wisdom in sending Higgins to him to ask for work, and had repented him of his morning's decision.

He wished too, but of this wish he was rather ashamed, that she should know that he had repented of his morning's decision about Higgins.


"Allow me to say, Miss Hale, that you were rather premature in expressing your disappointment.

'Allow me to say, Miss Hale, that you were premature in your disappointment.


"He tells me, he repeated to you, what I said this morning about--," Mr. Thornton hesitated.

'He tells me he repeated to you, what I said about-' Mr. Thornton hesitated.


You had a perfect right to express your opinion, which was a very correct one, I have no doubt.


But," she went on a little more eagerly, "Higgins did not quite tell you the exact truth."

But,' Margaret went on more eagerly, 'Higgins did not quite tell you the exact truth.'


The word "truth," reminded her of her own untruth, and she stopped short, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable.

The word 'truth' reminded her of her own untruth, and she stopped short, feeling uncomfortable.


Mr. Thornton at first was puzzled to account for her silence; and then he remembered the lie she had told, and all that was foregone.

Mr. Thornton was puzzled; and then he remembered the lie she had told.


"Very few people do speak the exact truth.

'Very few people do speak the exact truth.


Miss Hale, have you no explanation to give me?


You must perceive what I cannot but think."

You must perceive what I have to think.'


She was wondering whether an explanation of any kind would be consistent with her loyalty to Frederick.

Margaret was silent, wondering whether an explanation would be consistent with loyalty to Frederick.


I may be putting temptation in your way.


At present, believe me, your secret is safe with me.


But you run great risks, allow me to say, in being so indiscreet.


I am only speaking as a friend of your father's: if I had any other thought or hope, of course that is at an end.

I am now only speaking as a friend of your father's: if I had any other thought or hope, of course that is at an end.'


"I am aware of that," said Margaret, forcing herself to speak in an indifferent, careless way.

'I am aware of that,' said Margaret, forcing herself to speak in an indifferent way.


"I am aware of what I must appear to you, but the secret is another person's, and I cannot explain it without doing him harm."

'I am aware of what I must appear to you, but the secret is another person's, and I cannot explain it without doing him harm.'


"I have not the slightest wish to pry into the gentleman's secrets," he said, with growing anger.

'I have not the slightest wish to pry into the gentleman's secrets,' he said, with growing anger.


"My own interest in you is--simply that of a friend.

'My own interest in you is simply that of a friend.


You may not believe me, Miss Hale, but it is--in spite of the persecution I'm afraid I threatened you with at one time--but that is all given up; all passed away.

You may not believe me, Miss Hale, after the persecution I'm afraid I threatened you with at one time - but that is all passed away.


"Yes," said Margaret, quietly and sadly.

'Yes,' said Margaret, quietly and sadly.


"Then, really, I don't see any reason for us to go on walking together.

'Then I don't see any occasion for us to go on walking together.


I thought, perhaps, you might have had something to say, but I see we are nothing to each other.

I thought perhaps you might have had something to say, but I see we are nothing to each other.


If you're quite convinced, that any foolish passion on my part is entirely over, I wish you good afternoon."


thought Margaret,--"what could he mean by speaking so, as if I were always thinking that he cared for me, when I know he does not; he cannot.

thought Margaret, 'what could he mean by speaking so, when I know he does not care for me; he cannot.


His mother will have said all those cruel things about me to him.

His mother will have said cruel things about me to him.


I surely am mistress enough of myself to control this wild, strange, miserable feeling, which tempted me even to betray my own dear Frederick, so that I might but regain his good opinion--the good opinion of a man who takes such pains to tell me that I am nothing to him.

I surely am mistress enough of myself to control this wild, strange, miserable feeling, which tempted me even to betray my own dear Frederick, so that I might regain his good opinion - the good opinion of a man who takes such pains to tell me that I am nothing to him.


We'll be a great deal to one another, if we are thrown off and left desolate."


Her father was almost startled by her merriment this morning.

Her father was almost startled by her merriment that afternoon.


She talked incessantly, and forced her natural humour to an unusual pitch; and if there was a tinge of bitterness in much of what she said; if her accounts of the old Harley Street set were a little sarcastic, her father could not bear to check her, as he would have done at another time--for he was glad to see her shake off her cares.

She talked incessantly, and forced her natural humour to an unusual pitch; and even if there was a tinge of bitterness in much of what she said, he was glad to see her shake off her cares.


In the middle of the evening, she was called down to speak to Mary Higgins; and when she came back, Mr. Hale imagined that he saw traces of tears on her cheeks.


But that could not be, for she brought good news--that Higgins had got work at Mr. Thornton's mill.


Her spirits were damped, at any rate, and she found it very difficult to go on talking at all, much more in the wild way that she had done.


For some days her spirits varied strangely; and her father was beginning to be anxious about her, when news arrived from one or two quarters that promised some change and variety for her.

For some days her spirits varied strangely; and her father was beginning to be anxious about her, when news arrived that promised some variety for her.


Mr. Hale received a letter from Mr. Bell, in which that gentleman volunteered a visit to them; and Mr. Hale imagined that the promised society of his old Oxford friend would give as agreeable a turn to Margaret's ideas as it did to his own.

Mr. Hale received a letter from Mr. Bell, who proposed to visit them; and Mr. Hale imagined this would be as agreeable to Margaret as to himself.


Margaret tried to take an interest in what pleased her father; but she was too languid to care about any Mr. Bell, even though he were twenty times her godfather.

Margaret tried to take an interest; but she was too languid to care about any Mr. Bell, even though he were twenty times her godfather.


She was more roused by a letter from Edith, full of sympathy about her aunt's death; full of details about herself, her husband, and child; and at the end saying, that as the climate did not suit the baby, and as Mrs. Shaw was talking of returning to England, she thought it probable that Captain Lennox might sell out, and that they might all go and live again in the old Harley Street house; which, however, would seem very incomplete without Margaret.

She was more roused by a letter from Edith, full of sympathy about her aunt's death, and saying that as Mrs. Shaw was talking of returning to England, she thought Captain Lennox might sell out of the army, and that they might all go and live again in the old Harley Street house; which, however, would seem very incomplete without Margaret.


Margaret yearned after that old house, and the placid tranquility of that well-ordered, monotonous life.

Margaret yearned after that old house, and the placid tranquillity of that old well-ordered, monotonous life.


She had found it occasionally tiresome while it lasted; but since then she had been buffeted about, and felt so exhausted by this recent struggle with herself, that she thought that even stagnation would be a rest and a refreshment.

She had been so buffeted about, and felt so exhausted by this recent struggle with herself, that even stagnation would be a rest and a refreshment.


So she began to look towards a long visit to the Lennoxes, on their return to England, as to a point--no, not of hope--but of leisure, in which she could regain her power and command over herself.

So she began to look forward to a long visit to the Lennoxes, on their return, as a place where she could regain her command over herself.


At present it seemed to her as if all subjects tended towards Mr. Thornton; as if she could not forget him with all her endeavours.

At present it seemed as if she could not forget Mr. Thornton.


If she went to see the Higginses, she heard of him there; her father had resumed their readings together, and quoted his opinions perpetually; even Mr. Bell's visit brought his tenant's name upon the tapis; for he wrote word, that he believed he must be occupied some great part of his time with Mr. Thornton, as a new lease was in preparation, and the terms of it must be agreed upon.

If she went to see the Higginses, she heard of him there; her father had resumed their readings together, and quoted his opinions perpetually; even Mr. Bell wrote that he believed he would be occupied with Mr. Thornton, as a new lease was in preparation, and the terms of it must be agreed upon.


"Let China's earth, enriched with coloured stains, Pencil'd with gold, and streaked with azure veins, The grateful flavour of the Indian leaf, Or Mocha's sunburnt berry glad receive."


The day after this meeting with Higgins and his daughter Mr. Hale came upstairs into the little drawing-room at an unusual hour.

The day after this meeting with Higgins and his daughter, Mr. Hale came upstairs into the little drawing-room.


He went up to different objects in the room, as if examining them, but Margaret saw that it was merely a nervous trick--a way of putting off something he wished, yet feared to say.

He began to examine different objects there, but Margaret saw that it was merely a nervous way of putting off something he wished, yet feared to say.


I've asked Mr. Thornton to come to tea to-night."

I've asked Mr. Thornton to come to tea tonight.'


Mrs. Hale was leaning back in her easy chair, with her eyes shut, and an expression of pain on her face which had become habitual to her of late.


But she roused up into querulousness at this speech of her husband's.


What in the world does the man want to come here for?


And Dixon is washing my muslins and laces, and there is no soft water with these horrid east winds, which I suppose we shall have all the year round in Milton.

And Dixon is washing my muslins and laces, and there is no soft water with these horrid east winds, which I suppose we shall have all year in Milton.'


"The wind is veering round, my dear," said Mr. Hale, looking out at the smoke, which drifted right from the east, only he did not yet understand the points of the compass, and rather arranged them ad libitum according to circumstances.

'The wind is veering round, my dear,' said Mr. Hale, looking out at the smoke rather vaguely.


said Mrs. Hale, shuddering up, and wrapping her shawl about her still more closely.

said Mrs. Hale, shuddering, and wrapping her shawl tightly about her.


"But, east or west wind, I suppose this man comes."

'But, east or west wind, I suppose this man comes.'


"Oh mamma, that shows you never saw Mr. Thornton. He looks like a person who would enjoy battling with every adverse thing he could meet with--enemies, winds, or circumstances.

'Oh, mamma, Mr. Thornton looks like a person who would enjoy battling with everything - winds included.


The more it rains and blows, the more certain we are to have him.


I'm getting to be a famous clear-starcher.


And he won't want any amusement beyond talking to Papa.

And he won't want any amusement beyond talking to papa.


Papa, I am really longing to see the Pythias to your Damon. You know I never saw him but once, and then we were so puzzled to know what to say to each other that we did not get on particularly well."

You know, Papa, I have only seen him once, and then we were so puzzled to know what to say to each other that we did not get on particularly well.'


"I don't know that you would ever like him, or think him agreeable, Margaret.


Margaret wreathed her throat in a scornful curve.


"I don't particularly admire ladies' men, papa.

'I don't particularly admire ladies' men, papa.


But Mr. Thornton comes here as your friend--as one who has appreciated you"--
"The only person in Milton," said Mrs. Hale.
"So we will give him a welcome, and some cocoa-nut cakes.

But Mr. Thornton comes here as your friend, so we will give him a welcome, and some cocoa-nut cakes.


Dixon will be flattered if we ask her to make some; and I will undertake to iron your caps, mamma."

Dixon will be flattered if we ask her to make some; and I will iron your caps, mamma.'


Many a time that morning did Margaret wish Mr. Thornton far enough away. She had planned other employments for herself: a letter to Edith, a good piece of Dante, a visit to the Higginses.

Margaret had planned other employments for herself: a letter to Edith, some Dante, a visit to the Higginses.


But, instead, she ironed away, listening to Dixon's complaints, and only hoping that by an excess of sympathy she might prevent her from carrying the recital of her sorrows to Mrs. Hale.

But, instead, she ironed away, listening to Dixon's complaints, and hoping that her sympathy might prevent Dixon from carrying the recital of her sorrows to Mrs. Hale.


Every now and then, Margaret had to remind herself of her father's regard for Mr. Thornton, to subdue the irritation of weariness that was stealing over her, and bringing on one of the bad headaches to which she had lately become liable.

Margaret had to remind herself of her father's regard for Mr. Thornton, to subdue the weariness that was stealing over her, and bringing on one of the bad headaches to which she had lately become liable.


She could hardly speak when she sat down at last, and told her mother that she was no longer Peggy the laundry-maid, but Margaret Hale the lady.


She meant this speech for a little joke, and was vexed enough with her busy tongue when she found her mother taking it seriously.

She meant this speech for a little joke, and was vexed with herself when she found her mother taking it seriously.


if any one had told me, when I was Miss Beresford, and one of the belles of the country, that a child of mine would have to stand half a day, in a little poky kitchen, working away like any servant, that we might prepare properly for the reception of a tradesman, and that this tradesman should be the only"--

if anyone had told me, when I was Miss Beresford, that a child of mine would have to stand in a little poky kitchen, working away like any servant, so that we might prepare to receive a tradesman-'


said Margaret, lifting herself up, "don't punish me for so careless a speech. I don't mind ironing, or any kind of work for you and papa.

said Margaret, 'I don't mind ironing, or any kind of work, for you and papa.


I am myself a born and bred lady through it all, even though it comes to scouring a floor, or washing dishes.

I am a born and bred lady through it all.


I am tired now, just for a little while; but in half an hour I shall be ready to do the same over again.

I am just tired now; but in half an hour I shall be ready to do the same over again.


And as to Mr. Thornton's being in trade, why he can't help that now, poor fellow.

And as to Mr. Thornton's being in trade, why, he can't help that, poor fellow.


I don't suppose his education would fit him for much else," Margaret lifted herself slowly up, and went to her own room; for just now she could not bear much more.

I don't suppose his education would fit him for much else.' She rose slowly and went to her own room; for just now she could not bear much more.


In Mr. Thornton's house, at this very same time, a similar, yet different scene was going on.

In Mr. Thornton's house, at this very same time, a similar scene was going on.


A large-boned lady, long past middle age, sat at work in a grim handsomely-furnished dining-room.


Her features, like her frame, were strong and massive, rather than heavy. Her face moved slowly from one decided expression to another equally decided.

Her features were strong and massive, and held a decided expression.


There was no great variety in her countenance; but those who looked at it once, generally looked at it again; even the passers by in the street, half-turned their heads to gaze an instant longer at the firm, severe, dignified woman, who never gave way in street-courtesy, or paused in her straight-onward course to the clearly defined end which she proposed to herself.
She was handsomely dressed in stout black silk, of which not a thread was worn or discoloured.

She was a firm, severe, dignified woman, handsomely dressed in black silk.


She was mending a large, long table-cloth of the finest texture, holding it up against the light occasionally to discover thin places, which required her delicate care.

She was mending a large table-cloth, holding it up against the light occasionally.


There was not a book about in the room, with the exception of Matthew Henry's Bible commentaries, six volumes of which lay in the centre of the massive side-board, flanked by a tea-urn on one side, and a lamp on the other.

There was not a book in the room, except six volumes of Bible Commentaries, which lay on the sideboard, flanked by a tea-urn and a lamp.


In some remote apartment, there was exercise upon the piano going on. Someone was practising up a morceau de salon, playing it very rapidly, every third note, on an average, being either indistinct, or wholly missed out, and the loud chords at the end being half of them false, but not the less satisfactory to the performer.

In some remote room, someone was practising the piano very rapidly and rather carelessly.


Mrs. Thornton heard a step, like her own in its decisive character, pass the dining-room door.

Mrs. Thornton heard a decisive step pass the dining-room door.


Her son opened the door, and showed himself.


I thought you were going to tea with that friend of Mr. Bell's; that Mr. Hale?"

I thought you were going to tea with that Mr. Hale.'


"So I am, mother. I am come home to dress!"

'So I am, mother; I am come home to dress!'


When I was a girl, young men were satisfied with dressing once in a day.


Why should you dress to go and take a cup of tea with an old parson?"

Why should you dress to go and take a cup of tea with an old parson?'


"Mr. Hale is a gentleman, and his wife and daughter are ladies."

'Mr. Hale is a gentleman, and his wife and daughter are ladies.'


mother, because I have never seen Mrs. Hale; I have only seen Miss Hale for half an hour."

because I have never seen Mrs. Hale; I have only seen Miss Hale for half an hour.'


"Take care you don't get caught by a penniless girl, John."

'Take care you don't get caught by a penniless girl, John.'


"I am not easily caught, mother, as I think you know.

'I am not easily caught, mother, as I think you know.


But I must not have Miss Hale spoken of in that way, which, you know, is offensive to me.


I never was aware of any young lady trying to catch me yet, nor do I believe that any one has ever given themselves that useless trouble."

I never was aware of any young lady trying to catch me yet, nor do I believe that any has given themselves that useless trouble.'


Mrs. Thornton did not choose to yield the point to her son; or else she had, in general, pride enough for her sex.


Perhaps our Milton girls have too much spirit and good feeling to go angling after husbands; but this Miss Hale comes out of the aristocratic counties, where, if all tales be true, rich husbands are reckoned prizes."

Perhaps our Milton girls have too much spirit and good feeling to go angling after husbands; but this Miss Hale comes out of the aristocratic counties, where, if all tales be true, rich husbands are reckoned prizes.'


Mr. Thornton's brow contracted, and he came a step forward into the room.


"Mother" (with a short scornful laugh), "you will make me confess. The only time I saw Miss Hale, she treated me with a haughty civility which had a strong flavour of contempt in it.

'Mother,' (with a short scornful laugh), 'I confess that the only time I saw Miss Hale, she treated me with a haughty civility which had a strong flavour of contempt.


She held herself aloof from me as if she had been a queen, and I her humble, unwashed vassal.


What business had she, a renegade clergyman's daughter, to turn up her nose at you!


I would dress for none of them--a saucy set! if I were you."

I would dress up for none of them, if I were you.'


"Mr. Hale is good, and gentle, and learned.

'Mr. Hale is good, and gentle, and learned.


As for Mrs. Hale, I will tell you what she is like to-night, if you care to hear."

As for Mrs. Hale, I will tell you what she is like tonight, if you care to hear.'


I should like to know where she could find such another!


Boy and man, he's the noblest, stoutest heart I ever knew.

He's the noblest, stoutest heart I ever knew.


I don't care if I am his mother; I can see what's what, and not be blind.

I don't care if I am his mother; I can see what's what.


I know what Fanny is; and I know what John is.


Mr. Thornton had had some difficulty in working up his mother to the desired point of civility.

Mr. Thornton had had some difficulty in persuading his mother to visit.


She did not often make calls; and when she did, it was in heavy state that she went through her duties.

She did not often make calls; and when she did, it was with reluctance.


Her son had given her a carriage; but she refused to let him keep horses for it; they were hired for the solemn occasions, when she paid morning or evening visits.

Her son had given her a carriage, but she refused to keep horses; they were hired for solemn occasions.


She had had horses for three days, not a fortnight before, and had comfortably "killed off" all her acquaintances, who might now put themselves to trouble and expense in their turn.


Yet Crampton was too far off for her to walk; and she had repeatedly questioned her son as to whether his wish that she should call on the Hales was strong enough to bear the expense of cab-hire.

Crampton was too far off for her to walk, and she asked her son whether the visit was worth the expense of cab-hire.


She would have been thankful if it had not; for, as she said, "she saw no use in making up friendships and intimacies with all the teachers and masters in Milton; why, he would be wanting her to call on Fanny's dancing-master's wife, the next thing!"

As she said, 'she saw no use in making friendships with all the teachers in Milton.'


"And so I would, mother, if Mr. Mason and his wife were friendless in a strange place, like the Hales."

'The Hales are friendless in a strange place, Mother.'


I only wanted you exactly to understand about it."


"If you are going to-morrow, I shall order horses."


One would think you were made of money."

One would think you were made of money.'


The last time you were out in a cab, you came home with a headache from the jolting."

'The last time you were out in a cab, you came home with a headache from the jolting.'


my mother is not given to complaints," said he, a little proudly.

You are not given to complaints,' said he, a little proudly.


"But so much the more I have to watch over you.


Now, as for Fanny there, a little hardship would do her good."

Now as for Fanny there, a little hardship would do her good.'


"She is not made of the same stuff as you are, John.

'She is not made of the same stuff as you are, John.'


Mrs. Thornton was silent after this; for her last words bore relation to a subject which mortified her.


She had an unconscious contempt for a weak character; and Fanny was weak in the very points in which her mother and brother were strong.

She had an unconscious contempt for a weak character; and her daughter Fanny was weak in the very points in which her mother and brother were strong.


Mrs. Thornton was not a woman much given to reasoning; her quick judgment and firm resolution served her in good stead of any long arguments and discussions with herself; she felt instinctively that nothing could strengthen Fanny to endure hardships patiently, or face difficulties bravely; and though she winced as she made this acknowledgment to herself about her daughter, it only gave her a kind of pitying tenderness of manner towards her; much of the same description of demeanour with which mothers are wont to treat their weak and sickly children.

Mrs. Thornton was not a woman much given to reasoning; her quick judgment and firm resolution served her instead of any long arguments with herself; she felt instinctively that nothing could strengthen Fanny to endure hardships patiently or bravely. Though she winced as she acknowledged this, it gave her a kind of pitying tenderness towards Fanny, as if she were a sickly child.


A stranger, a careless observer might have considered that Mrs. Thornton's manner to her children betokened far more love to Fanny than to John.

A stranger might have considered that Mrs. Thornton showed far more love to Fanny than to John.


But such a one would have been deeply mistaken.


The very daringness with which mother and son spoke out unpalatable truths, the one to the other, showed a reliance on the firm centre of each other's souls, which the uneasy tenderness of Mrs. Thornton's manner to her daughter, the shame with which she thought to hide the poverty of her child in all the grand qualities which she herself possessed unconsciously, and which she set so high a value upon in others--this shame, I say, betrayed the want of a secure resting-place for her affection.

The very daringness with which mother and son spoke out unpalatable truths to each other, showed a reliance on the firm centre of each other's souls. Mrs. Thornton's uneasy tenderness to her daughter went side-by-side with shame; she thought to hide her child's poverty in all the grand qualities which she herself possessed, but this shame betrayed the want of a secure resting-place for her affection.


She never called her son by any name but John; "love," and "dear," and such like terms, were reserved for Fanny.

She never called her son by any name but John; 'love' and 'dear' were reserved for Fanny.


But her heart gave thanks for him day and night; and she walked proudly among women for his sake.

But her heart gave thanks for him day and night; and she was proud of him.


"Fanny dear! I shall have horses to the carriage to-day, to go and call on these Hales.

'Fanny, dear, I shall take the carriage today, to go and call on these Hales.


It's in the same direction, and she's always so glad to see you.


You could go on there while I am at Mrs. Hale's."

You could go on there while I am at Mrs. Hale's.'


mamma, it's such a long way, and I am so tired."

mamma, it's such a long way, and I am so tired.'


asked Mrs. Thornton, her brow slightly contracting.

asked Mrs. Thornton, her brow contracting.


The carriage could fetch her, and she could spend the rest of the day here, which I know she would like."

The carriage could fetch her, and she could spend the day here, which I know she would like.'


Mrs. Thornton did not speak; but she laid her work on the table, and seemed to think.

Mrs. Thornton laid her work on the table, and seemed to think.


"It will be a long way for her to walk back at night!"

'It will be a long way for her to walk back at night!'


At this point, Mr. Thornton came in, just before going to the mill.

At this point, Mr. Thornton came in, on his way to the mill.


I need hardly say, that if there is any little thing that could serve Mrs. Hale as an invalid, you will offer it, I'm sure."

If there is any little thing that could help Mrs. Hale, as an invalid, you will offer it, I'm sure.'


But I have never been ill myself, so I am not much up to invalids' fancies."

But I have never been ill myself, so I am not much up to invalids' fancies.'


here is Fanny then, who is seldom without an ailment.

here is Fanny, who is seldom without an ailment.


She will be able to suggest something, perhaps--won't you, Fan?"

She will be able to suggest something - won't you, Fan?'


"I have not always an ailment," said Fanny, pettishly; "and I am not going with mamma.

'I have not always an ailment,' said Fanny, pettishly; 'and I am not going with mamma.


I have a headache to-day, and I shan't go out."

I have a headache today, and I shan't go out.'


His mother's eyes were bent on her work, at which she was now stitching away busily.

His mother's eyes were bent on her needlework.


I wish you to go," said he, authoritatively.

I wish you to go,' said he, authoritatively.


You will oblige me by going, without my saying anything more about it."

You will oblige me by going, without my saying anything more about it.'


He went abruptly out of the room after saying this.


If he had stayed a minute longer, Fanny would have cried at his tone of command, even when he used the words, "You will oblige me."


"John always speaks as if I fancied I was ill, and I am sure I never do fancy any such thing.

'John always speaks as if I fancied I was ill,' grumbled Fanny, 'and I am sure I never fancy any such thing.


Who are these Hales that he makes such a fuss about?"

Who are these Hales that he makes such a fuss about?'


He has good reasons of some kind or other, or he would not wish us to go.


But the little altercation between her son and her daughter did not incline Mrs. Thornton more favourably towards "these Hales."

But the little altercation did not make Mrs. Thornton think favourably of 'these Hales.'


Her jealous heart repeated her daughter's question, "Who are they, that he is so anxious we should pay them all this attention?"

Her jealous heart repeated her daughter's question, 'Who are they, that we should pay them all this attention?'


It came up like a burden to a song, long after Fanny had forgotten all about it in the pleasant excitement of seeing the effect of a new bonnet in the looking-glass.


It was only of late years that she had had leisure enough in her life to go into society; and as society she did not enjoy it.


As dinner-giving, and as criticising other people's dinners, she took satisfaction in it. But this going to make acquaintance with strangers was a very different thing.

She took satisfaction in dinner-giving, and criticising other people's dinners; but going to visit strangers was a very different thing.


She was ill at ease, and looked more than usually stern and forbidding as she entered the Hales' little drawing-room.


Margaret was busy embroidering a small piece of cambric for some little article of dress for Edith's expected baby--"Flimsy, useless work," as Mrs. Thornton observed to herself.

Margaret was busy embroidering a small article of dress for Edith's expected baby - 'Flimsy, useless work,' as Mrs. Thornton observed to herself.


She liked Mrs. Hale's double knitting far better; that was sensible of its kind.


The room altogether was full of knick-knacks, which must take a long time to dust; and time to people of limited income was money.

The room was full of knick-knacks, which must take a long time to dust.


She made all these reflections as she was talking in her stately way to Mrs. Hale, and uttering all the stereotyped commonplaces that most people can find to say with their senses blindfolded.

She made these reflections as she was talking in her stately way to Mrs. Hale, and uttering all the commonplaces that most people can say blindfolded.


Mrs. Hale was making rather more exertion in her answers, captivated by some real old lace which Mrs. Thornton wore; "lace," as she afterwards observed to Dixon, "of that old English point which has not been made for this seventy years, and which cannot be bought.

Mrs. Hale was making more effort to answer, captivated by some old lace which Mrs. Thornton wore, and which, as she afterwards observed to Dixon, 'had not been made for seventy years, and cannot be bought.


It must have been an heir-loom, and shows that she had ancestors."


So the owner of the ancestral lace became worthy of something more than the languid exertion to be agreeable to a visitor, by which Mrs. Hale's efforts at conversation would have been otherwise bounded.

So the owner of the ancestral lace became worthy of greater efforts at conversation.


And presently, Margaret, racking her brain to talk to Fanny, heard her mother and Mrs. Thornton plunge into the interminable subject of servants.


"I suppose you are not musical," said Fanny, "as I see no piano."

'I suppose you are not musical,' said Fanny, 'as I see no piano.'


"I am fond of hearing good music; I cannot play well myself; and papa and mamma don't care much about it; so we sold our old piano when we came here."

'I am fond of hearing good music; but I cannot play well myself, and we sold our old piano when we came here.'


"I wonder how you can exist without one.

'I wonder how you can exist without one.


It almost seems to me a necessary of life."

It almost seems to me a necessary of life.'


"Fifteen shillings a week, and three saved out of them!"

'Fifteen shillings a week, and three saved out of them!'


She probably has forgotten her own personal experience.


Margaret's manner had an extra tinge of coldness in it when she next spoke.

Margaret's manner had an extra tinge of coldness when she spoke.


"You have good concerts here, I believe."

'You have good concerts here, I believe.'


The directors admit so indiscriminately.


But one is sure to hear the newest music there.

But one is sure to hear the newest music.


I always have a large order to give to Johnson's, the day after a concert."

I always have a large order to give to Johnson's, the day after a concert.'


"Do you like new music simply for its newness, then?"

'Do you like new music simply for its newness, then?'


"Oh; one knows it is the fashion in London, or else the singers would not bring it down here.

'Oh; one knows it is the fashion in London.


"Yes," said Margaret, "I have lived there for several years."

'Yes,' said Margaret; 'I lived there for several years.'


London and the Alhambra are the two places I long to see!"

London and the Alhambra are the two places I long to see!'


ever since I read the Tales of the Alhambra.


But surely, it is a very easy journey to London."

But surely, it is a very easy journey to London.'


"Yes; but somehow," said Fanny, lowering her voice, "mamma has never been to London herself, and can't understand my longing.

'Yes; but somehow,' said Fanny, lowering her voice, 'mamma has never been to London, and can't understand my longing.


She is very proud of Milton; dirty, smoky place as I feel it to be.

She is very proud of Milton, dirty and smoky as it is.


I believe she admires it the more for those very qualities."

I believe she admires it for those very qualities.'


"If it has been Mrs. Thornton's home for some years, I can well understand her loving it," said Margaret, in her clear, bell-like voice.

'If it has been Mrs. Thornton's home for some years, I can understand her loving it,' said Margaret, in her clear voice.


"What are you saying about me, Miss Hale?

'What are you saying about me, Miss Hale?


Margaret had not the words ready for an answer to this question, which took her a little by surprise, so Miss Thornton replied:
"Oh, mamma!


we are only trying to account for your being so fond of Milton."

we are only trying to account for your being so fond of Milton.'


"I do not feel that my very natural liking for the place where I was born and brought up,--and which has since been my residence for some years, requires any accounting for."

'I do not feel that my very natural liking for the place where I was born and brought up requires any accounting for.'


As Fanny had put it, it did seem as if they had been impertinently discussing Mrs. Thornton's feelings; but she also rose up against that lady's manner of showing that she was offended.

Fanny made it sound as if they had been impertinently discussing Mrs. Thornton's feelings; but she also resented that lady's manner.


Mrs. Thornton went on after a moment's pause:
"Do you know anything of Milton, Miss Hale?

Mrs. Thornton went on: 'Do you know anything of Milton, Miss Hale?


said Margaret. "I have not seen anything of that description as yet."


Then she felt that, by concealing her utter indifference to all such places, she was hardly speaking with truth; so she went on:
"I dare say, papa would have taken me before now if I had cared.

Trying to be honest, she went on: 'I dare say, papa would have taken me before now if I had cared.


But I really do not find much pleasure in going over manufactories."

But I really do not find much pleasure in going over factories.'


"They are very curious places," said Mrs. Hale, "but there is so much noise and dirt always.

'They are very curious places,' said Mrs. Hale, 'but there is so much noise and dirt always.'


I remember once going in a lilac silk to see candles made, and my gown was utterly ruined."


"Very probably," said Mrs. Thornton, in a short displeased manner.

'Very probably,' said Mrs. Thornton, in a short, displeased manner.


"I merely thought, that as strangers newly come to reside in a town which has risen to eminence in the country, from the character and progress of its peculiar business, you might have cared to visit some of the places where it is carried on; places unique in the kingdom, I am informed.

'I merely thought, that as strangers come to reside in a newly eminent town, you might have cared to visit some of the places where its business is carried on; places unique in the kingdom.


If Miss Hale changes her mind and condescends to be curious as to the manufactures of Milton, I can only say I shall be glad to procure her admission to print-works, or reed-making, or the more simple operations of spinning carried on in my son's mill.

If Miss Hale changes her mind and condescends to be curious about the manufactures of Milton, I shall be glad to procure her admission to print-works, or reed-making, or the spinning carried on in my son's mill.


Every improvement of machinery is, I believe, to be seen there, in its highest perfection."

Every improvement of machinery is, I believe, to be seen there in its highest perfection.'


"I am so glad you don't like mills and manufactories, and all those kind of things," said Fanny, in a half-whisper, as she rose to accompany her mother, who was taking leave of Mrs. Hale with rustling dignity.

'I am so glad you don't like mills and factories,' said Fanny, in a half-whisper, as she rose to accompany her mother, who was taking leave of Mrs. Hale with rustling dignity.


"I think I should like to know all about them, if I were you," replied Margaret quietly.

'I think I should like to know all about them, if I were you,' replied Margaret quietly.


said her mother, as they drove away, "we will be civil to these Hales: but don't form one of your hasty friendships with the daughter.

said her mother, as they drove away, 'we will be civil to these Hales: but don't form one of your hasty friendships with the daughter.


The mother looks very ill, and seems a nice, quiet kind of person."

The mother seems a nice, quiet kind of person.'


"I don't want to form any friendship with Miss Hale, mamma," said Fanny, pouting.

'I don't want to form any friendship with Miss Hale, mamma,' said Fanny, pouting.


"I thought I was doing my duty by talking to her, and trying to amuse her."

'I thought I was doing my duty by talking to her.'


at any rate John must be satisfied now."

at any rate, John must be satisfied now.'


"As angels in some brighter dreams Call to the soul when man doth sleep, So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, And into glory peep."


Mrs. Hale was curiously amused and interested by the idea of the Thornton dinner party.

Mrs. Hale was curiously interested by the idea of the Thornton dinner party.


She kept wondering about the details, with something of the simplicity of a little child, who wants to have all its anticipated pleasure described beforehand.

She kept wondering about the details, with the simplicity of a child.


But the monotonous life led by invalids often makes them like children, inasmuch as they have neither of them any sense of proportion in events, and seem each to believe that the walls and curtains which shut in their world, and shut out everything else, must of necessity be larger than anything hidden beyond.

But the monotonous life led by invalids often makes them like children, who think their own world is so much greater than anything beyond.


Besides Mrs. Hale had had her vanities as a girl; had perhaps unduly felt their mortification when she became a poor clergyman's wife;--they had been smothered and kept down; but they were not extinct; and she liked to think of seeing Margaret dressed for a party, and discussed what she should wear, with an unsettled anxiety that amused Margaret, who had been more accustomed to society in her one year in Harley Street than her mother in five and twenty years of Helstone.

Besides, Mrs. Hale liked to think of seeing Margaret dressed for a party, and discussed what she should wear with an anxiety that amused Margaret, who had become more accustomed to society in Harley Street than her mother had in five and twenty years of Helstone.


"Then you think you shall wear your white silk. Are you sure it will fit?


It's nearly a year since Edith was married!"

It's nearly a year since Edith was married!'


Mrs. Murray made it, and it's sure to be right; it may be a straw's breadth shorter or longer-waisted, according to my having grown fat or thin.


But I don't think I've altered in the least."

I don't think I've altered in the least.'


But if the worst comes to the worst, I've a very nice pink gauze which Aunt Shaw gave me, only two or three months before Edith was married.

But if the worst comes to the worst, I've a very nice pink gauze which aunt Shaw gave me, only two or three months before Edith was married.


I feel more as if it was the embarrassment of riches."


"I wish I knew what you ought to wear," said Mrs. Hale, nervously.

'I wish I knew what you ought to wear,' said Mrs. Hale nervously.


"Shall I go and put them on one after another, mamma, and then you could see which you liked best?"

'Shall I go and put them on, mamma, and then you could see which you liked most?'


She was very much inclined to play some pranks when she was dressed up at such an unusual hour; to make her rich white silk balloon out into a cheese, to retreat backwards from her mother as if she were the queen; but when she found that these freaks of hers were regarded as interruptions to the serious business, and as such annoyed her mother, she became grave and sedate.

When dressed up, she was inclined to play the fool; but finding that her pranks annoyed her mother, she became grave and sedate.


What had possessed the world (her world) to fidget so about her dress, she could not understand; but that very afternoon, on naming her engagement to Bessy Higgins (apropos of the servant that Mrs. Thornton had promised to enquire about), Bessy quite roused up at the intelligence.

What had possessed the world to fidget so about her dress, she could not understand. That very afternoon, on her mentioning the matter to Bessy Higgins, Bessy quite roused up at the news.


and are you going to dine at Thornton's at Marlborough Mills?"

'Are you going to dine at Thornton's at Marlborough Mills?'


But they visit wi' a' th' first folk in Milton."

But they visit wi' all th' first folk in Milton.'


"And you don't think we're quite the first folk in Milton, eh, Bessy?"

'And you don't think we're quite the first folk in Milton, eh, Bessy?'


Bessy's cheeks flushed a little at her thought being thus easily read.


"Well," said she, "yo' see, they thinken a deal o' money here; and I reckon yo've not getten much."

'Well, they thinken a deal o' money here, and I reckon yo've not getten much.'


But we are educated people, and have lived amongst educated people.


Is there anything so wonderful, in our being asked out to dinner by a man who owns himself inferior to my father by coming to him to be instructed?

Is there anything so strange in our being asked out to dinner by a man who comes to my father to learn?


Few drapers' assistants, as he was once, could have made themselves what he is."

Few drapers' assistants, as he was once, could have made themselves what he is.'


"But can yo' give dinners back, in yo're small house?

'But can yo' give dinners back, in your small house?'


Thornton's house is three times as big."


"Well, I think we could manage to give Mr. Thornton a dinner back, as you call it.

'Well, I think we could manage to give Mr. Thornton a dinner back.


Perhaps not in such a large room, nor with so many people.'


But I don't think we've thought about it at all in that way."


"I never thought yo'd be dining with Thorntons," repeated Bessy.

'I never thought yo'd be dining with Thorntons,' repeated Bessy.


"Why, the mayor hissel' dines there; and the members of Parliament and all."


"I think, I could support the honour of meeting the mayor of Milton."


said Bessy, with an anxious look at Margaret's print gown, which her Milton eyes appraised at sevenpence a yard.

She gave an anxious look at Margaret's print gown, which her Milton eyes appraised at sevenpence a yard.


Margaret's face dimpled up into a merry laugh.


"Thank you, Bessy, for thinking so kindly about my looking nice among all the smart people.


But I've plenty of grand gowns,--a week ago, I should have said they were far too grand for anything I should ever want here.


But as I'm to dine at Mr. Thornton's, and perhaps to meet the mayor, I shall put on my very best gown, you may be sure."

I shall put on my very best gown, you may be sure.'


"A gown I had for a cousin's wedding, a year ago."


"I should be loth to have yo' looked down upon."


I'll be fine enough, if that will save me from being looked down upon in Milton."


"I wish I could see you dressed up," said Bessy.

'I wish I could see you dressed up,' said Bessy.


"I reckon, yo're not what folk would ca' pretty; yo've not red and white enough for that.

'I reckon, you're not what folk would call pretty.


But dun yo' know, I ha' dreamt of yo', long afore ever I seed yo'."

But yo' know, I ha' dreamt of yo', long afore ever I seed yo'.'


Yo'r very face,--looking wi' yo'r clear steadfast eyes out o' th' darkness, wi' yo'r hair blown off from yo'r brow, and going out like rays round yo'r forehead, which was just as smooth and straight as it is now,--and yo' always came to give me strength, which I seemed to gather out o' yo'r deep comforting eyes,--and yo' was drest in shining raiment--just as yo'r going to be drest.

Your very face - looking wi' your clear steadfast eyes out o' th' darkness, wi' your hair blown off from your brow, and going out like rays round your forehead - and yo' always came to give me strength, which I seemed to gather out o' your deep comforting eyes - and yo' were drest in shining raiment - just as you're going to be drest.


"Nay, Bessy," said Margaret, gently, "it was but a dream."

'Nay, Bessy,' said Margaret, gently, 'it was but a dream.'


"And why might na I dream a dream in my affliction as well as others?


Did not many a one i' the Bible? Ay, and see visions too!

'Did not many a one i' the Bible dream, and see visions too?


Why, even my father thinks a deal o' dreams!

Why, even father thinks a deal o' dreams!


I tell yo' again, I saw yo' as plainly, coming swiftly towards me, wi' yo'r hair blown back wi' the very swiftness o' the motion, just like the way it grows, a little standing off like; and the white shining dress on yo've getten to wear.

I tell yo' again, I saw yo' coming swiftly towards me, wi' your hair blown back, and the white shining dress on.


Let me come and see yo' in it. I want to see yo' and touch yo' as in very deed yo' were in my dream."

Let me come and see yo' in it, and touch yo' as yo' were in my dream.'


"My dear Bessy, it is quite a fancy of yours."

'My dear Bessy, it is quite a fancy of yours.'


"Fancy or no fancy,--yo've come, as I knew yo' would, when I saw yo'r movement in my dream,--and when yo're here about me, I reckon I feel easier in my mind, and comforted, just as a fire comforts one on a dree day.

'Fancy or no fancy - yo've come, as I knew yo' would, when I saw yo' in my dream - and when yo're here I feel easier in my mind, and comforted, just as a fire comforts one on a dree day.


Yo' said it were on th' twenty-first; please God, I'll come and see yo'."

Please God, if I'm spared, I'll come and see yo'.'


you may come and welcome; but don't talk so--it really makes me sorry.

you may come and welcome; but don't talk so - it really makes me sorry.'


"Then I'll keep it to mysel', if I bite my tongue out.


At last she said, "Let us talk about it sometimes, if you think it true.

At last she said,
'Let us talk about it sometime, if you think it true.


Tell me, has your father turned out on strike?'


said Bessy heavily--in a manner very different from that she had spoken in but a minute or two before.


"He and many another,--all Hamper's men,--and many a one besides.


Th' women are as bad as th' men, in their savageness, this time.

Th' women are as bad as th' men, in their savageness.


Food is high,--and they mun have food for their childer, I reckon.

Food is dear, and they must have food for their childer.