And they parted company. Mr. Thornton hurried to his warehouse, and, sternly forbidding his clerks to allow any one to interrupt him, he went his way to his own private room, and locked the door. Then he indulged himself in the torture of thinking it all over, and realising every detail. How could he have lulled himself into the unsuspicious calm in which her tearful image had mirrored itself not two hours before, till he had weakly pitied her and yearned towards her, and forgotten the savage, distrustful jealousy with which the sight of her--and that unknown to him--at such an hour--in such a place--had inspired him! How could one so pure have stooped from her decorous and noble manner of bearing! But was it decorous--was it? He hated himself for the idea that forced itself upon him, just for an instant--no more--and yet, while it was present, thrilled him with its old potency of attraction towards her image. And then this falsehood--how terrible must be some dread of shame to be revealed--for, after all, the provocation given by such a man as Leonards was, when excited by drinking, might, in all probability, be more than enough to justify any one who came forward to state the circumstances openly and without reserve! How creeping and deadly that fear which could bow down the truthful Margaret to falsehood! He could almost pity her. What would be the end of it? She could not have considered all she was entering upon; if there was an inquest and the young man came forward. Suddenly he started up. There should be no inquest. He would save Margaret. He would take the responsibility of preventing the inquest, the issue of which, from the uncertainty of the medical testimony (which he had vaguely heard the night before, from the surgeon in attendance), could be but doubtful; the doctors had discovered an internal disease far advanced, and sure to prove fatal; they had stated that death might have been accelerated by the fall, or by the subsequent drinking and exposure to cold. If he had but known how Margaret would have become involved in the affair--if he had but foreseen that he would have stained her whiteness by a falsehood, he could have saved her by a word; for the question, of inquest or no inquest, had hung trembling in the balance only the night before. Miss Hale might love another--was indifferent and contemptuous to him--but he would yet do her faithful acts of service of which she should never know. He might despise her, but the woman whom he had once loved should be kept from shame; and shame it would be to pledge herself to a lie in a public court, or otherwise to stand and acknowledge her reason for desiring darkness rather than light.

And they parted company. Mr. Thornton hurried to his warehouse, and, sternly forbidding his clerks to allow anyone to interrupt him, he went to his private room, and locked the door. Then he indulged himself in the torture of thinking it all over.
How could he have lulled himself into pity by her tearful image, and have forgotten the savage, distrustful jealousy with which the sight of her and another man - at such an hour - in such a place - had filled him! How could one so pure have stooped from her decorous and noble manner of bearing! But was it decorous?
He hated himself for the idea that forced itself upon him, just for an instant, and yet thrilled him with its old potency of attraction towards her image. And then this falsehood - how terrible her dread must be of some shame to be revealed. After all, the provocation given by such a man as Leonards might be more than enough to justify anyone stating the circumstances openly! How creeping and deadly that fear which could bow down the truthful Margaret to falsehood! He could almost pity her. What would be the end of it? She could not have considered; if there was an inquest and the young man came forward-
Suddenly he started up. There should be no inquest. He would save Margaret. He would take the responsibility of preventing the inquest. He had heard the medical testimony from the surgeon the night before, and it was doubtful; the doctors had discovered an internal disease far advanced, and sure to prove fatal. They had stated that death might have been accelerated by the fall, or by the subsequent drinking and exposure to cold.
If he had only known how Margaret would have become involved in the affair - if he had foreseen that she would have stained her whiteness by a falsehood, he could have saved her by a word; for the necessity of an inquest had hung in the balance only the night before. Miss Hale might love another - was indifferent and contemptuous to him - but he would yet do her faithful acts of service of which she should never know. He might despise her, but the woman whom he had once loved should be kept from shame; and shame it would be to lie in a public court.
