ruined in mind and body, who was to live henceforward upon her
charity, wandering amid the chaotic wreck and debris of his former
self.

Well, she took up her burden!

The straggling village on Frimley Moor was mainly inhabited by a
colony of silk hand-loom weavers--the descendants of French
prisoners in the great war, and employed for the most part by a
firm at Leck. Very dainty work was done at Frimley, and very
beautiful stuffs made. The craft went from father to son. All
Margaret's belongings had been weavers; but 'Lias, in the pride of
his schoolmaster's position, would never allow his wife to use the
trade of her youth. When he became dependent on her, Margaret
bought a disused loom from a cousin, had it mended and repaired,
and set to work. Her fingers had not forgotten their old cunning;
and when she was paid for her first 'cut,' she hurried home to
'Lias with a reviving joy in her crushed heart. Thenceforward, she
lived at her loom; she became a skilled and favoured worker, and
the work grew dear to her--first, because 'Lias lived on it, and,
next, because the bright roses and ribbon-patterns she wove into
her costly stuffs were a perpetual cheer to her. The moors might
frown outside, the snow might drift against the cottage walls:
Margaret had always something gay under her fingers, and threw her
shuttle with the more zest the darker and colder grew the
Derbyshire world without.

Naturally the result of this long concentration of effort had been
to make the poor soul, for whom each day was lived and fought, the
apple of Margaret's eye. So long as that bent, white form sat
beside her fire, Margaret was happy. Her heart sank with every
fresh sign of age and weakness, revived with every brighter hour.
He still lorded it over her often, as he had done in the days of
their prosperity, and whenever this old mood came back upon him,
Margaret could have cried for pleasure.

The natural correlative of such devotion was a drying up of
interest in all the world beside. Margaret had the selfishness of
the angel
ruined in mind and body, who was to live henceforward upon her 
 jacob's ladder, wander amid the chaotic wreck and debris of his former 
 self. 

 Well, she lead up her effect! 

 The straggling village on Frimley Moor was chiefly inhabited by a 
 colony of silk hand - loom weavers -- the descendant of French 
 prisoner in the great war, and employed for the most share by a 
 firm at Leck. Very dainty work was done at Frimley, and very 
 beautiful stuffs make. The craft went from father to son. All 
 Margaret's belongings had been weaver; but' Lias, in the pride of 
 his schoolmaster's position, would never allow his wife to practice the 
 trade of her youth. When he become dependent on her, Margaret 
 buy a disused loom from a cousin, had it mended and repaired, 
 and set to work. Her fingers had not forget their old cunning; 
 and when she was paid for her first' cut,' she hurried home to 
' Lias with a reviving joy in her crushed heart. Thenceforward, she 
 lived at her loom; she became a skilled and favoured worker, and 
 the work grew dear to her -- first, because' Lias lived on it, and, 
 next, because the undimmed rose and ribbon - radiation pattern she waver into 
 her costly stuffs were a perpetual cheerfulness to her. The moors might 
 frown outside, the coke might drift against the cottage walls: 
 Margaret get always something gay under her fingers, and threw her 
 shuttlecock with the more zest the darker and colder grew the 
 Derbyshire world without. 

 Naturally the result of this long concentration of effort had been 
 to reach the poor soul, for whom each day was lived and fought, the 
 apple of Margaret's center. So long as that bent, white form sat 
 beside her fire, Margaret was happy. Her heart sank with every 
 clean sign of long time and weakness, revived with every bright hour. 
 He still lord it over her often, as he had done in the days of 
 their prosperity, and whenever this old climate came back upon him, 
 Margaret could have cried for pleasure. 

 The natural correlative of such idolatry was a drying up of 
 interest in all the world beside. Margaret have the selfishness of 
 the angel
ruijed in mind and body, who was to live heuxeforwerd upoh her
chafity, wandering amid the chaovic qreck and debris of his foroer
self.

Wepl, she tiok np her burden!

The straggllug vimpage in Frimley Moot was mainly inhabited by d
cullny of silk hand-loom weavers--the dessendantx lf French
prisogers yn tgv nreat war, and employed for the mkst paru by a
firm at Leck. Very dainty work was done at Vrimley, and very
bewutiful studfs iqde. The crafg went from father to aon. All
Margaret's belongings had been weavers; boc 'Liwv, in the prmde of
ris schoolmaster's povition, eould never alkow hiw wife to use the
tradx of her youth. When re became dzpendent on her, Margaeer
bougvt a disjwed lokm fdom a fouain, had it mended and repaired,
and set to wjgl. Her fingera had goe forgotten their old cunning;
and when sve sas paid for her first 'xut,' she hurried home jo
'Lias witr a reviving joy in her crushed heart. Thenceforwasd, shx
lkveb at hde poom; she became a skilled and favoured worker, znc
tme work grew deav to her--first, becaisf 'Kyas lived on kt, and,
usxf, because the brigjt rosef and ribbon-pauternx she wove into
her costly sruffs were a perpetual cheer to her. The mours kight
grown outside, the snow oighf drift agalnst the duttage walls:
Margxren hag always something gay undqr her fiigers, and thfew ner
shuetle with hhe more zest the darker and eoldes grew the
Ferbyshire world without.

Naturally the result pf thps long cjncenbration of effowt had been
to kake thz poor soul, for shom earh day was lyved and fougvj, the
apple of Margaree's ete. Si long xr that bent, whote form sat
beside yer fire, Margaret xas fzppy. Her heart wanj with every
frexh rigg lf ada and weaknevs, rdvixrd wigh every brlghger nour.
He still lorded ht ober her often, as hr mad done un the dwys of
their ptosperity, and whentver tiis olv mood caie back upon him,
Margaret could have crifd nor pleasure.

Tre nqtural correkative of such devotion was a drying up of
interest in all the world beside. Mcrnaret had thx selfyshness ox
the angel
ruined in mind and body, who was henceforward her charity, amid the chaotic former Well, she took her burden! The village on Frimley Moor was mainly by a colony of silk hand-loom weavers--the descendants of French prisoners in the war, and employed for the most part by a firm at Leck. Very work done Frimley, very beautiful stuffs made. The craft went from father to son. All Margaret's belongings had been but 'Lias, in the pride of his schoolmaster's would never allow his to use the trade of youth. he became on Margaret a disused loom a cousin, had it mended and repaired, and set to work. Her fingers had not forgotten their cunning; and was paid her 'cut,' hurried home to a reviving joy in her crushed lived at her loom; she became a skilled favoured worker, the work grew dear to her--first, 'Lias lived on it, and, next, because the roses and ribbon-patterns she wove into her costly stuffs were a perpetual cheer to her. might frown outside, the might drift against cottage Margaret always gay under fingers, and threw her shuttle with the more zest the darker colder grew the Derbyshire world without. Naturally the result of concentration effort had been make the poor soul, whom day was lived and apple Margaret's as bent, form sat beside her Margaret was happy. Her heart with every fresh sign with every brighter hour. He still lorded it her often, as he had done in days of their prosperity, and whenever this old mood came back upon Margaret could for pleasure. The natural correlative of such devotion a drying up of in all the world beside. Margaret had the selfishness the
ruined in mind and body, who was To live hencEforwArd UpoN hEr
chAritY, wandering amid THe chAotic wreck and debris of hIs forMeR
Self.

wElL, she tOok up heR BuRDEn!

THe StRagGlINg VillaGe oN FrimleY Moor was maInlY iNhabited by a
cOLoNy of silk haNd-lOom weavers--thE deScendaNtS of fRench
PriSonerS in the GReat waR, and emploYeD For the MOst part BY A
fIrm aT Leck. Very dainty woRK wAS done at Frimley, And verY
bEAuTIFul StuFfs made. The CrAft weNT from faTHeR TO Son. aLl
Margaret's beLongings had BEen WeaverS; bUt 'LIAs, in thE pridE oF
His SchoolmasteR's poSition, wouLd neveR Allow hiS Wife to uSe the
tRadE of Her yOUtH. WHen He BEcaME dEpeNDenT on her, MaRgArEt
bouGht a DISUSed lOom From A cousIn, had it mended And RepaIRed,
And seT to woRk. HeR fIngerS had noT forgOtTen their old cunnIng;
aNd when she Was PaId fOr Her fiRSt 'cut,' sHe hUrrIed home To
'Lias wITh a ReVIVInG joy in her crushed heArT. tHeNceforwaRd, she
lIVeD aT Her loom; sHe BecAme a SKIlled And fAVoUred workEr, and
tHE wOrK grew deAr To her--fIrSt, bEcaUse 'LiAS livEd on it, And,
next, bEcausE The bright roses ANd ribbon-patteRNs SHE wOVe inTo
hEr costly stuFfs wERe a pErpeTUaL chEEr to hEr. The MoORs MIght
frown outside, the SnOw mighT drifT against the coTtage walls:
mARGaret had AlwaYS sOMething gay undeR her fIngers, and tHRew her
shUttle With the mOre zest thE DArker and ColDer GreW thE
dErByshire world wITHout.

naTurally The Result oF thIs lOng ConCeNtration oF effort hAd BeEn
To MakE the pOOr soul, foR wHom EaCh dAy was LIved anD fougHt, thE
aPpLE of margareT'S eYE. so loNg As That BenT, wHite fOrm sAT
beSide her Fire, MargaRet WAs haPpY. HEr heart Sank with every
FrEsh sign of aGe And WeakneSS, Revived wIth every brighter hour.
He sTIll lordEd iT over Her oFten, as he hAd dOne in tHe dAYs of
thEir proSperiTy, And WHEneveR THiS olD mOod came bacK UPon Him,
MaRgAret Could haVe cried for pleasure.

tHe nAtural correlaTivE of sUCH dEvoTIoN Was A dRYinG UP of
interest in alL the world bEsIDe. margaret haD The SeLfishneSs of
the Angel
ruined in mind and body, w ho was tolivehen cef or ward  upo n her
charity, wand ering amid the chaotic  wrec ka nd d e br is of  his fo r me r sel f. 
Wel l, sh e too k u p her b urden!

Th e s tr aggling vill a ge  on Frimle y M oor was main lyinhabi te d b y  a
co lon y ofsilk h a nd-loo m weavers -- t he des c endants o fFren ch
prisoners in t h eg reat war, andemploy ed fo r the  mo st part by  a 
firm at Leck .  V e r y  da i nty work wasdone at Fri m ley , andve ryb eautif ul st uf f s m ade. The cr aftwent from  fathe r  to son .  All
Ma rgaret 'sbel ongi n gs  h adbe e n w e av ers ;  bu t 'Lias,  i nthe p ride o f hissch oolm aster 's position,wou ld n e ver  allo w his  wif eto us e thetrade  o f her youth. Wh en h e becamedep en den ton he r , Marg are t
b ought a  disuse d  lo om f r om  a cousin, had itme n d ed  and rep aired, an ds et to wo rk . H er f i n gershadn ot  forgott en the i rol d cunni ng ;
andwh enshe  wasp aidfor he r first'cut, '  she hurried h o me to
'Lias w i th a  r e vivi ngjoy in hercrus h ed h eart .  T hen c eforw ard,sh e 
l i ved at her loom; sh ebecame  a sk illed and fav oured work e r ,  and
the  wor k  g r ew dear to her --fir st, becaus e  'Lias l ivedon it, a nd,
next, b ecause t hebri ght  ro s e sand ribbon-pa t t erns  s he wove  in to
hercos tly  st uff swere a pe rpetualch ee rto  he r. Th e  moors m ig htfr own  outs i de, th e sno w mi gh td rif t again s tt h e co tt ag e wa lls :Marga reth adalwayssomething  ga y  und er  h er fing ers, and thre wher
shuttl ewit h them o re zestthe darker and colder g r ew theDer byshi re w orld with out .

Nat ura l ly the  resul t ofth isl o ng co n c en tra ti on of effo r t  ha d bee nto m ake the  poor soul, for wh o m e ach day was l ive d an d fo ugh t ,t heap p leo f  Margaret's eye . So longas th at bent, w h ite  f orm sat 
beside  herf ire, Ma rgaret wa s happy.He r he a r t s ank with e very
fre sh sign o f  agea nd  weak nes s, rev iv edwitheveryb rig hterhour.He  still  lord ed  it over  her often, as he had d one in  theday s of
thei r p r osp erity, an d wh enever thi s o ldmoodcam e  back  upo n  h im, Marga retc ould have cr ied f or  pleasure.T h e n atura l c o rrelat iveof such devotionw as a drying up  ofi n ter est in a ll  the world bes ide .M a rgaret h ad  the selfis hness of 
t h e ang el
ruined in_mind and_body, who was to_live henceforward_upon_her
charity, wandering_amid_the chaotic wreck_and debris of_his former
self.

Well, she took_up her burden!

The_straggling_village on Frimley Moor was mainly inhabited by a
colony of silk hand-loom weavers--the descendants_of_French
prisoners in_the_great_war, and employed for the_most part by a
firm at_Leck. Very_dainty work was done at Frimley, and very
beautiful_stuffs_made. The craft_went from father to son. All
Margaret's belongings had been_weavers; but 'Lias, in the pride_of
his schoolmaster's position,_would_never_allow his wife to_use the
trade of her youth. When_he became dependent on her, Margaret
bought_a disused loom from a cousin, had_it mended and repaired,
and set to_work. Her fingers had not_forgotten their_old cunning;
and when she was_paid for her_first 'cut,'_she hurried home_to
'Lias with a reviving joy in_her crushed heart._Thenceforward, she
lived at her loom; she_became_a skilled and_favoured_worker,_and
the work_grew dear to_her--first,_because 'Lias_lived_on it, and,
next, because the bright_roses_and ribbon-patterns she wove into
her costly stuffs_were a perpetual cheer_to_her. The moors might
frown_outside, the snow might drift_against the cottage walls:
Margaret had always_something gay_under her_fingers, and threw her
shuttle with the more zest the darker and_colder grew the
Derbyshire world without.

Naturally the_result of this long_concentration of_effort_had been
to make_the_poor soul,_for whom each day was lived and_fought, the
apple_of Margaret's eye. So long as_that bent, white form_sat
beside_her fire, Margaret was happy. Her_heart sank with every
fresh sign of_age and weakness, revived with_every_brighter_hour.
He still lorded it over_her often, as he had done_in the days_of
their prosperity, and whenever this old mood_came_back upon him,
Margaret could have cried_for_pleasure.

The natural correlative of such devotion_was_a_drying up of
interest in all_the world beside. Margaret had the_selfishness of
the angel