And on Margaret's singling out a little common drinking-cup, which she remembered as the one always standing by Bessy's side with a drink for her feverish lips, Mary said:

And on Margaret's singling out Bessy's little common drinking-cup, Mary said:


"Oh, take summat better; that only cost fourpence!"

'Oh, take summut better; that only cost fourpence!'


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

Mrs. Shaw looked extremely perplexed by this.


and apologies for failure in good manners!


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


Where are you going to reside, Miss Hale?

Where are you going to live, Miss Hale?'


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


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


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

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


"My niece will reside with me in Harley Street.

'My niece will reside with me in Harley Street.


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


At this instant Mr. Thornton entered the room; he had only just returned from Oxford.


His mourning suit spoke of the reason that had called him there.


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

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


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

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


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

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


He had not sat down, and now he seemed to be examining something on the table, almost as if he had discovered an unopened letter, which had made him forget the present company.

, and seemed to be examining something on the table, which had made him forget the present company.


He did not even seem to be aware when they got up to take leave.


He started forwards, however, to hand Mrs. Shaw down to the carriage.


As it drove up, he and Margaret stood close together on the door-step, and it was impossible but that the recollection of the day of the riot should force itself into both their minds.

As it drove up, he and Margaret stood close together on the doorstep, and the recollection of the day of the riot forced itself into both their minds.


Into his it came associated with the speeches of the following day; her passionate declaration that there was not a man in all that violent and a desperate crowd, for whom she did not care as much as for him.

Into his, it came associated with his proposal the following day, and her passionate declaration that there was not a man in all that violent crowd for whom she did not care as much as for him.


And at the remembrance of her taunting words, his brow grew stern, though his heart beat thick with longing love.

And at the memory, his brow grew stern, though his heart beat thick with longing love.


said he, "I put it to the touch once, and I lost it all.


Let her go,--with her stony heart, and her beauty;--how set and terrible her look is now, for all her loveliness of feature!

'Let her go - with her stony heart, and her beauty - how set and terrible her look is now, for all her loveliness!


She is afraid I shall speak what will require some stern repression.


Beauty and heiress as she may be, she will find it hard to meet with a truer heart than mine.


And there was no tone of regret, or emotion of any kind in the voice with which he said good-bye; and the offered hand was taken with a resolute calmness, and dropped as carelessly as if it had been a dead and withered flower.

And there was no tone of regret, or emotion of any kind in the voice with which he said good-bye; and her offered hand was taken with a resolute calmness, and dropped as carelessly as if it had been a withered flower.


But none in his household saw Mr. Thornton again that day.


Margaret's strength was so utterly exhausted by these visits, that she had to submit to much watching and petting, and sighing "I-told-you-so's," from her aunt.

Margaret's strength was so utterly exhausted by these visits, that she had to submit to 'I-told-you-so's,' from her aunt.


Dixon said she was quite as bad as she had been on the first day she heard of her father's death; and she and Mrs. Shaw consulted as to the desirableness of delaying the morrow's journey.


But when her aunt reluctantly proposed a few days' delay to Margaret, the latter writhed her body as if in acute suffering, and said:

But when her aunt reluctantly proposed a few days' delay in their journey, Margaret said, agonised:


So the arrangements went on: and Captain Lennox came, and with him news of Edith and the little boy; and Margaret found that the indifferent, careless conversation of one who, however kind, was not too warm and anxious a sympathiser, did her good.

Captain Lennox came, and with him news of Edith and the little boy; and Margaret found that his careless conversation did her good.


She roused up; and by the time that she knew she might expect Higgins, she was able to leave the room quietly, and await in her own chamber the expected summons.

By the time that Higgins arrived at her house that evening, she was ready to greet him.


said he, as she came in, "to think of th' oud gentleman dropping off as he did!

said he, 'to think of th' oud gentleman dropping off as he did!


Yo' might ha' knocked me down wi' a straw when they telled me.


'Then,' said I, 'there's as good a man gone as ever lived on this earth, let who will be t'other!'


And I came to see yo', and tell yo' how grieved I were, but them women in th' kitchen wouldn't tell yo' I were there.

And I came to tell yo' how grieved I were, but them women in th' kitchen wouldn't tell yo' I were there.


They said yo' were ill,--and butter me, but yo' dunnot look like the same wench.

They said yo' were ill. And yo're going to be a grand lady up i' Lunnon, aren't yo'?'


And yo're going to be a grand lady up i' Lunnon, aren't yo'?"


"Not a grand lady," said Margaret, half smiling.

'Not a grand lady,' said Margaret, half smiling.


Thornton said--says he, a day or two ago, 'Higgins, have yo' seen Miss Hale?'

Thornton said, a day or two ago, "Higgins, have yo' seen Miss Hale?"


'No,' says I; 'there's a pack o' women who won't let me at her.

"No," says I; "there's a pack o' women who won't let me at her.


But I can bide my time, if she's ill. She and I knows each other pretty well; and hoo'l not go doubting that I'm main sorry for th' oud gentleman's death, just because I can't get at her and tell her so.'

But she and I knows each other pretty well; and hoo'l not be doubting that I'm sorry for th' oud gentleman's death, just because I can't get at her and tell her so."


And says he, 'Yo'll not have much time for to try and see her, my fine chap.

And says he, "Yo'll not have much time for to try and see her.


She's not for staying with us a day longer nor she can help.

She's not staying with us a day longer nor she can help.


She's got grand relations, and they're carrying her off; and we shan't see her no more.'

She's got grand relations, and they're carrying her off; and we shan't see her no more."


'Measter,' said I, 'if I dunnot see her afore hoo goes, I'll strive to get up to Lunnon next Whitsuntide, that I will.

"Measter," said I, "if I dunnot see her afore hoo goes, I'll strive to get up to Lunnun next Whissuntide, that I will."


I'll not be baulked of saying her good-bye by any relations whatsomdever.


It were only for to humour the measter, I let on as if I thought yo'd mappen leave Milton without seeing me."


If no one else in Milton remembers me, I'm certain you will; and papa too.


I can ill spare it; but I know he would have liked you to have it.


I'm sure you'll care for it, and study what is in it, for his sake."

I'm sure you'll care for it, and study it, for his sake.'


If it were the deuce's own scribble, and yo' axed me to read in it for yo'r sake and the oud gentleman's, I'd do it.

'If it were the deuce's own scribble, and yo' axed me to read in it for your sake, and th' oud gentleman's, I'd do it.


I'm not going for to take yo'r brass, so dunnot think it.

I'm not going to take your money, so dunnot think it.'


We've been great friends, 'bout the sound o' money passing between us."


"For the children--for Boucher's children," said Margaret, hurriedly.

'For Boucher's children,' said Margaret, hurriedly.


I would not give you one penny," she said, smiling; "don't think there's any of it for you."

I would not give you a penny,' she said, smiling; 'don't think there's any of it for you.'


"And down the sunny beach she paces slowly, With many doubtful pauses by the way; Grief hath an influence so hushed and holy."


whispered Edith to her husband, as they were in their room alone at night after the sad journey to Oxford.

whispered Edith to her husband, as they were in their room that night.


She had pulled his tall head down, and stood upon tiptoe, and implored him not to be shocked, before she ventured to ask this question.


Captain Lennox was, however, quite in the dark; if he had ever heard, he had forgotten; it could not be much that a Fellow of a small College had to leave; but he had never wanted her to pay for her board; and two hundred and fifty pounds a year was something ridiculous, considering that she did not take wine.

Captain Lennox was, however, quite in the dark; if he had ever heard, he had forgotten; and the Fellow of a small college could not have much to leave.


Edith came down upon her feet a little bit sadder; with a romance blown to pieces.

Edith was a little sadder, with her romance blown to pieces.


A week afterwards, she came prancing towards her husband, and made him a low curtsey:


"I am right, and you are wrong, most noble Captain.

'I am right, and you are wrong, most noble Captain.


Margaret has had a lawyer's letter, and she is residuary legatee--the legacies being about two thousand pounds, and the remainder about forty thousand, at the present value of property in Milton."

Margaret has had a lawyer's letter, and she is legatee - the legacies being about two thousand pounds, and the remainder property in Milton worth about forty thousand.'


and how does she take her good fortune?"

and how does she take her good fortune?'


"Oh, it seems she knew she was to have it all along; only she had no idea it was so much.

'Oh, it seems she knew all along; only she had no idea it was so much.


She looks very white and pale, and says she's afraid of it; but that's nonsense, you know, and will soon go off.

She looks very white and pale, and says she's afraid of it; but that's nonsense, you know.


I left mamma pouring congratulations down her throat, and stole away to tell you."

I left mamma pouring congratulations down her throat.'


It seemed to be supposed, by general consent, that the most natural thing was to consider Mr. Lennox henceforward as Margaret's legal adviser.

It seemed to be supposed, by general consent, that Mr. Lennox would naturally be Margaret's legal adviser.


She was so entirely ignorant of all forms of business that in nearly everything she had to refer to him.

She was so ignorant of all forms of business that in nearly everything she had to refer to him.


He chose out her attorney; he came to her with papers to be signed.

He chose her attorney, and brought her papers to be signed.


He was never so happy as when teaching her of what all these mysteries of the law were the signs and types.

He was never so happy as when teaching her of these mysteries of the law.


"Henry," said Edith, one day, archly; "do you know what I hope and expect all these long conversations with Margaret will end in?"

'Henry,' said Edith one day, archly; 'do you know what I hope and expect all these long conversations with Margaret will end in?'


"Oh, very well; then I need not tell Sholto not to ask Mr. Montagu so often to the house."


"Just as you choose," said he with forced coolness.


"What you are thinking of may or may not happen; but this time, before I commit myself, I will see my ground clear.

'What you are thinking of, may or may not happen; but this time, before I commit myself, I will see my ground clear.


It may not be very civil, Edith, but if you meddle in it you will mar it.


She has been very farouche with me for a long time; and is only just beginning to thaw a little from her Zenobia ways.

She is only just beginning to thaw a little towards me.


She has the making of a Cleopatra in her, if only she were a little more pagan."

She has the making of a Cleopatra in her, if only she were more pagan.'


"For my part," said Edith, a little maliciously, "I am very glad she is a Christian.


There was no Spain for Margaret that autumn; although to the last she hoped that some fortunate occasion would call Frederick to Paris, whither she could easily have met with a convoy.

There was no Spain for Margaret that autumn.


Instead of Cadiz, she had to content herself with Cromer.


To that place her aunt Shaw and the Lennoxes were bound.

, where her aunt Shaw and the Lennoxes were bound.


They had all along wished her to accompany them, and, consequently, with their characters, they made but lazy efforts to forward her own separate wish.

They wished her to accompany them, and made only lazy efforts to consider her own separate wish.


Perhaps Cromer was, in one sense of the expression, the best for her.


She needed bodily strengthening and bracing as well as rest.


Among other hopes that had vanished, was the hope, the trust she had had, that Mr. Bell would have given Mr. Thornton the simple facts of the family circumstances which had preceded the unfortunate accident that led to Leonards' death.

Among other hopes that had vanished, was the hope that Mr. Bell would have given Mr. Thornton the facts of the family circumstances which had preceded Leonards' unfortunate accident and death.


Whatever opinion--however changed it might be from what Mr. Thornton had once entertained, she had wished it to be based upon a true understanding of what she had done, and why she had done it.

Whatever opinion Mr. Thornton held of her, she had wished it to be based upon a true understanding of what she had done, and why she had done it.


It would have been a pleasure to her: would have given her rest on a point on which she should now all her life be restless, unless she could resolve not to think upon it.

It would have given her rest on a point on which she should now all her life be restless.


It was now so long after the time of these occurrences, that there was no possible way of explaining them save the one which she had lost by Mr. Bell's death.

It was now so long since these occurrences, that there was no way of explaining them save the one which she had lost by Mr. Bell's death.


She might just submit, like many another, to be misunderstood; but, though reasoning herself into the belief that in this hers was no uncommon lot, her heart did not ache the less with longing that some time--years and years hence--before he died at any rate, he might know how much she had been tempted.

She must just submit, like many another, to be misunderstood; but her heart did not ache the less with longing that some time, he might know the truth.


She thought that she did not want to hear that all was explained to him, if only she could be sure that he would know.


But this wish was vain, like so many others; and when she had schooled herself into this conviction, she turned with all her heart and strength to the life that lay immediately before her, and resolved to strive and make the best of that.

But this wish was vain; and when she had schooled herself into this conviction, she turned with all her heart and strength to the life that lay immediately before her, and resolved to strive and make the best of that.


She used to sit long hours upon the beach, gazing intently on the waves as they chafed with perpetual motion against the pebbly shore,--or she looked out upon the more distant heave, and sparkle against the sky, and heard, without being conscious of hearing, the eternal psalm, which went up continually.

She used to sit long hours upon the beach at Cromer, gazing intently on the waves as they chafed against the pebbly shore - or she looked out upon the more distant heave, and sparkle against the sky, and


She was soothed without knowing how or why.


Listlessly she sat there, on the ground, her hands clasped round her knees, while her aunt Shaw did small shoppings, and Edith and Captain Lennox rode far and wide on shore and inland.

She sat there, on the ground, her hands clasped round her knees, while her aunt Shaw went shopping, and Edith and Captain Lennox rode far and wide.


The nurses, sauntering on with their charges, would pass and repass her, and wonder in whispers what she could find to look at so long, day after day.


And when the family gathered at dinner-time, Margaret was so silent and absorbed that Edith voted her moped, and hailed a proposal of her husband's with great satisfaction, that Mr. Henry Lennox should be asked to take Cromer for a week, on his return from Scotland in October.

When the family gathered at dinner-time, Margaret was so silent and absorbed that Edith agreed with her husband that Mr. Henry Lennox should be asked to visit Cromer for a week in October.


But all this time for thought enabled Margaret to put events in their right places, as to origin and significance, both as regarded her past life and her future.

But all this time for thought enabled Margaret to put events in their right places.


Those hours by the seaside were not lost, as any one might have seen who had had the perception to read, or the care to understand, the look that Margaret's face was gradually acquiring.

Those hours by the seaside were not lost, as anyone might have seen who could read the look that her face was gradually acquiring.


Mr. Henry Lennox was excessively struck by the change.


"The sea has done Miss Hale an immense deal of good, I should fancy," said he, when she first left the room after his arrival in their family circle.

'The sea has done Miss Hale an immense deal of good,' said he, on his arrival in their family circle, after Margaret had left the room.


"She looks ten years younger than she did in Harley Street."

'She looks ten years younger than she did in Harley Street.'


"I knew it would suit her the moment I saw it."


"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Lennox, in the half-contemptuous, half-indulgent tone he generally used to Edith.

'I beg your pardon,' said Mr. Lennox, in the half-contemptuous, half-indulgent tone he generally used to Edith.


"But I believe I know the difference between the charms of a dress and the charms of a woman.


No mere bonnet would have made Miss Hale's eyes so lustrous and yet so soft, or her lips so ripe and red--and her face altogether so full of peace and light.--She is like, and yet more,"--he dropped his voice,--"like the Margaret Hale of Helstone."

'No mere bonnet would have made Miss Hale's eyes so lustrous and yet so soft, or her face so full of peace and light. She is like the Margaret Hale of Helstone, and yet more.'


From this time the clever and ambitious man bent all his powers to gaining Margaret.


He saw the latent sweep of her mind, which could easily (he thought) be led to embrace all the objects on which he had set his heart.


He looked upon her fortune only as a part of the complete and superb character of herself and her position; yet he was fully aware of the rise which it would immediately enable him, the poor barrister, to take.

He looked upon her fortune only as a part of her superb self: yet he was fully aware of the rise which it would enable him, the poor barrister, to take.


Eventually he would earn such success, and such honours, as would enable him to pay her back, with interest, that first advance in wealth which he should owe to her.

Eventually he would earn such success as would let him pay her back with interest.


He had been to Milton on business connected with her property, on his return from Scotland; and with the quick eye of a skilled lawyer, ready ever to take in and weigh contingencies, he had seen that much additional value was yearly accruing to the lands and tenements which she owned in that prosperous and increasing town.

He had been to Milton on business connected with her property, and had seen that much additional value was yearly accruing to the land and houses which she owned in that prosperous and growing town.


He was glad to find that the present relationship between Margaret and himself, of client and legal adviser, was gradually superseding the recollection of that unlucky, mismanaged day at Helstone.

He was glad to find that the present relationship between them, of client and legal adviser, was gradually superseding the recollection of that unlucky day at Helstone.


He had thus unusual opportunities of intimate intercourse with her, besides those that arose from the connection between the families.

It gave him many private opportunites to talk to her.


Margaret was only too willing to listen as long as he talked of Milton, though he had seen none of the people whom she more especially knew.

Margaret was only too willing to listen as long as he talked of Milton, though he had seen none of the people whom she knew.


It had been the tone with her aunt and cousin to speak of Milton with dislike and contempt; just such feelings as Margaret was ashamed to remember she had expressed and felt on first going to live there.

Her aunt and cousin would speak of Milton with dislike and contempt; just such feelings as Margaret was ashamed to remember she had expressed on first going to live there.


But Mr. Lennox almost exceeded Margaret in his appreciation of the character of Milton and its inhabitants.

But Mr. Lennox almost exceeded Margaret in his appreciation of Milton and its inhabitants.


Their energy, their power, their indomitable courage in struggling and fighting; their lurid vividness of existence, captivated and arrested his attention.

Their energy, their power, their courage in struggling; their lurid vividness of existence, captivated him.


He was never tired of talking about them; and had never perceived how selfish and material were too many of the ends they proposed to themselves as the result of all their mighty, untiring endeavour, till Margaret, even in the midst of her gratification, had the candour to point this out, as the tainting sin in so much that was noble and to be admired.

He never perceived how selfish and material were too many of the purposes of their mighty endeavour, till Margaret had the candour to point this out, as the tainting sin in so much that was admirable.


Still, when other subjects palled upon her, and she gave but short answers to many questions, Henry Lennox found out that an enquiry as to some Darkshire peculiarity of character called back the light into her eye, the glow into her cheek.

Still, when she gave short answers on other subjects, Henry Lennox found that some enquiry about Darkshire called back the light into her eye.


When they returned to town, Margaret fulfilled one of her sea-side resolves, and took her life into her own hands.

When they returned to London Margaret fulfilled one of her sea-side resolves.


Before they went to Cromer, she had been as docile to her aunt's laws as if she were still the scared little stranger who cried herself to sleep that first night in the Harley Street nursery.


But she had learnt, in those solemn hours of thought, that she herself must one day answer for her own life, and what she had done with it; and she tried to settle that most difficult problem for woman, how much was to be utterly merged in obedience to authority, and how much might be set apart for freedom in working.

But she had learnt, in those solemn hours of thought, that she must one day answer for her own life, and what she had done with it; and she tried to settle that most difficult problem for women, how much to be obedient to authority, and how much to assert one's freedom.


Mrs. Shaw was as good-tempered as could be; and Edith had inherited this charming domestic quality; Margaret herself had probably the worst temper of the three, for her quick perceptions and over-lively imagination made her hasty, and her early isolation from sympathy had made her proud: but she had an indescribable childlike sweetness of heart, which made her manners, even in her rarely wilful moods, irresistible of old; and now, chastened even by what the world called her good fortune, she charmed her reluctant aunt into acquiescence with her will.

Mrs. Shaw and Edith were both good-tempered; Margaret herself had probably the worst temper of the three. Her quick perceptions and over-lively imagination made her hasty, and her early isolation from sympathy had made her proud. But she had a sweetness of heart which made her manner irresistible; and now, chastened by what the world called her good fortune, she charmed her reluctant aunt into allowing her


So Margaret gained the acknowledgment of her right to follow her own ideas of duty.

the right to follow her own ideas of duty.


"Only don't be strong-minded," pleaded Edith.

'Only don't be strong-minded,' pleaded Edith.


"Mamma wants you to have a footman of your own; and I'm sure you're very welcome, for they're great plagues.

'Mamma wants you to have a footman of your own; and I'm sure you're very welcome, for they're great plagues.


Only to please me, darling, don't go and have a strong mind; it's the only thing I ask.

Only darling, don't have a strong mind; it's the only thing I ask.


Footman or no footman, don't be strong-minded."

Footman or no footman, don't be strong-minded.'


I'll faint on your hands at the servants' dinner-time, the very first opportunity; and then, what with Sholto playing with the fire, and the baby crying, you'll begin to wish for a strong-minded woman, equal to any emergency."

I'll faint on your hands at the first opportunity; and then, what with Sholto playing with the fire, and the baby crying, you'll begin to wish for a strong-minded woman, equal to any emergency.'


"And you'll not grow too good to joke and be merry?"

'And you'll not grow too good to joke and be merry?'


"Not I. I shall be merrier than I have ever been, now I have got my own way."

'Not I. I shall be merrier than I have ever been, now I have got my own way.'


"And you'll not go a figure, but let me buy your dresses for you?"

'And you'll let me buy your dresses for you?'


You shall come with me if you like; but no one can please me but myself."

, though you shall come with me if you like.'


I was afraid you'd dress in brown and dust-colour, not to show the dirt you'll pick up in all those places.

I was afraid you'd dress in brown and dust-colour, so as not to show the dirt you'll pick up in all those places.


I'm glad you're going to keep one or two vanities, just by way of specimens of the old Adam."

I'm glad you're going to keep one or two vanities.'


"I am going to be just the same, Edith, if you and my aunt could but fancy so.


Only as I have neither husband nor child to give me natural duties, I must make myself some, in addition to ordering my gowns."

Only as I have neither husband nor child to give me natural duties, I must make myself some, in addition to ordering my gowns.'


In the family conclave, which was made up of Edith, her mother, and her husband, it was decided that perhaps all these plans of hers would only secure her the more for Henry Lennox.


They kept her out of the way of other friends who might have been eligible sons or brothers; and it was also agreed that she never seemed to take much pleasure in the society of any one but Henry, out of their own family.

They kept her out of the way of other eligible men; and she never seemed to take much pleasure in the society of anyone but Henry, outside their own family.


The other admirers, attracted by her appearance or the reputation of her fortune, were swept away, by her unconscious smiling disdain, into the paths frequented by other beauties less fastidious, or other heiresses with a larger amount of gold.

Admirers attracted by the reputation of her fortune were swept away, by her unconscious smiling disdain, into the paths of other beauties less fastidious.


Henry and she grew slowly into closer intimacy; but neither he nor she were people to brook the slightest notice of their proceedings.

Henry and she grew slowly into closer intimacy; but neither he nor she would tolerate the slightest notice of their friendship.


"There are briars besetting every path, Which call for patient care; There is a cross in every lot, And an earnest need for prayer."


Margaret went out heavily and unwillingly enough.

Margaret went out heavily and unwillingly.


But the length of a street--yes, the air of a Milton Street--cheered her young blood before she reached her first turning.

But the length of a street cheered her young blood.


She began to take notice, instead of having her thoughts turned so exclusively inward.

; she began to take notice, instead of having her thoughts turned inward.


She saw unusual loiterers in the streets: men with their hands in their pockets sauntering along; loud-laughing and loud-spoken girls clustered together, apparently excited to high spirits, and a boisterous independence of temper and behaviour.

She saw unusual loiterers in the streets: men with their hands in their pockets sauntering along; loud-laughing girls clustered together, in high spirits, with a boisterous independence.


The more ill-looking of the men--the discreditable minority--hung about on the steps of the beer-houses and gin-shops, smoking, and commenting pretty freely on every passer-by.

Discreditable-looking men hung about on the steps of the beer-houses and gin-shops, smoking, and commenting pretty freely on every passer-by.


Margaret disliked the prospect of the long walk through these streets, before she came to the fields which she had planned to reach.


Instead, she would go and see Bessy Higgins.


It would not be so refreshing as a quiet country walk, but still it would perhaps be doing the kinder thing.


Nicholas Higgins was sitting by the fire smoking, as she went in.

Nicholas Higgins was sitting at one side of the fire smoking, as she went in.


Bessy was rocking herself on the other side.


Nicholas took the pipe out of his mouth, and standing up, pushed his chair towards Margaret; he leant against the chimney-piece in a lounging attitude, while she asked Bessy how she was.

Nicholas took the pipe out of his mouth, and standing up, pushed his chair towards Margaret. He leant against the chimney piece, while she asked how Bessy was.


"Hoo's rather down i' th' mouth in regard to spirits, but hoo's better in health.

'Hoo's rather down i' th' mouth, but hoo's better in health.


Hoo's a deal too much set on piece and quietness at any price."

Hoo's a deal too much set on peace and quietness at any price.'


"This is th' third strike I've seen," said she, sighing, as if that was answer and explanation enough.

'This is th' third strike I've seen,' said Bessy, sighing, as if that was explanation enough.


See if we don't dang th' masters this time.


See if they don't come and beg us to come back at our own price.

See if they don't beg us to come back at our own price


We've missed it afore time, I grant yo'; but this time we'n laid our plans desperate deep."

This time we'n laid our plans desperate deep.'


"Striking is leaving off work till you get your own rate of wages, is it not?


You must not wonder at my ignorance; where I come from I never heard of a strike."

'Excuse my ignorance; where I come from I never heard of a strike.'


"I wish I were there," said Bessie, wearily.

'I wish I were there,' said Bessy, wearily.


"But it's not for me to get sick and tired o' strikes.


Before it's ended I shall be in the Great City--the Holy Jerusalem."

Before it's ended I shall be in the Great City - the Holy Jerusalem.'


"Hoo's so full of th' life to come, hoo cannot think of th' present.

'Hoo's so full of th' life to come, hoo cannot think of th' present.


Now I, yo see, am bound to do the best I can here.

Now I am bound to do the best I can here.


I think a bird i' th' hand is worth two i' th' bush.


So them's the different views we take on th' strike question."

So them's the different views we take on th' strike question.'


"But," said Margaret, "if the people struck, as you call it, where I come from, as they are mostly all field labourers, the seed would not be sown, the hay got in, the corn reaped."

'But,' said Margaret, 'if the people struck, where I come from, as they are mostly field labourers, the seed would not be sown, or the corn reaped.


He had resumed his pipe, and put his "well" in the form of an interrogation.


"Why," she went on, "what would become of the farmers?"


"I reckon, they'd have either to give up their farms, or to give fair rate of wage."

'They'd have either to give up their farms, or to give fair rate of wage.'


"Suppose they could not, or would not do the last; they could not give up their farms all in a minute, however much they might wish to do so; but they would have no hay, nor corn to sell that year; and where would the money come from to pay the labourers' wages the next?"

'Suppose they could not do the latter; they could not give up their farms all in a minute, but they would have no corn to sell that year; and where would the money come from to pay the labourers' wages the next?'


I have heerd they're a pack of spiritless, down-trodden men; welly clemmed to death; too dazed wi' clemming to know when they're put upon.

I have heerd they're a pack of spiritless, down-trodden men; too much dazed wi' hunger to know when they're put upon.


We known when we're put upon; and we'en too much blood in us to stand it.

We know when we're put upon; and we won't stand it.


We just take our hands fro' our looms, and say, 'Yo' may clem us, but yo'll not put upon us, my masters!'


And be danged to 'em, they shan't this time!"

Be danged to 'em, they shan't put upon us this time!'


"I wished I lived down South," said Bessy.

'I wish I lived down South,' said Bessy.


"There's a deal to bear there," said Margaret.


'There are sorrows to bear everywhere,' said Margaret.


There is very hard bodily labour to be gone through, with very little food to give strength."

'There is very hard labour to be gone through there, with very little food to give strength.'


"And away from the endless, endless noise, and sickening heat."

'And away from the endless, endless noise, and heat.'


"It's sometimes in heavy rain, and sometimes in bitter cold.

'It's sometimes in heavy rain, and sometimes in bitter cold.


A young person can stand it; but an old man gets racked with rheumatism, and bent and withered before his time; yet he must just work on the same, or else go to the workhouse."

A young person can stand it; but an old man gets bent and withered before his time; yet he must just work on, or go to the workhouse.'


"I thought yo were so taken wi' the ways of the South country."

'I thought yo' were so taken wi' the ways of the South country.'


"So I am," said Margaret, smiling a little, as she found herself thus caught.


"I only mean, Bessy, there's good and bad in everything in this world; and as you felt the bad up here, I thought it was but fair you should know the bad down there."

'I only mean, Bessy, there's good and bad in everything in this world; and I thought it was only fair you should know the bad down there.'


"And yo say they never strike down there?"

'And yo' say they never strike down there?'


said Margaret; "I think they have too much sense."

said Margaret; 'I think they have too much sense.'


"An' I think," replied he, dashing the ashes out of his pipe with so much vehemence that it broke, "it's not that they've too much sense, but that they've too little spirit."

'An' I think,' replied he, dashing the ashes out of his pipe vehemently, 'that they've too little spirit.'


said Bessy, "what have ye gained by striking?

said Bessy, 'what have ye gained by striking?


Just think of that first strike when mother died--how we all had to clem--you the worst of all; and yet many a one went in every week at the same wage, till all were gone in that there was work for; and some went beggars all their lives at after."

Think of that first strike when mother died - how we all had to clem and go hungry - you the worst of all; and yet many men went in every week at the same wage, and took all the jobs; and some went beggars after.'


Folk got into th' management of it, as were either fools or not true men.


Yo'll see, it'll be different this time."


"But all this time you've not told me what you're striking for," said Margaret, again.

'But you've not told me what you're striking for,' said Margaret.


"Why, yo see, there's five or six masters who have set themselves again paying the wages they've been paying these two years past, and flourishing upon, and getting richer upon.

'Why, yo' see, there's five or six masters who have set themselves against paying the wages they've been paying these two years past.


And now they come to us, and say we're to take less.


We'll just clem them to death first; and see who'll work for 'em then.


They'll have killed the goose that laid 'em the golden eggs, I reckon."

They'll have killed the goose that laid the golden eggs, I reckon.'


"And so you plan dying, in order to be revenged upon them!"

'And so you plan dying, in order to be revenged upon them!'


I just look forward to the chance of dying at my post sooner than yield.

But I'd die at my post sooner than yield.


That's what folk call fine and honourable in a soldier, and why not in a poor weaver-chap?"

That's what folk call fine and honourable in a soldier, and why not in a poor weaver?'


"But," said Margaret, "a soldier dies in the cause of the Nation--in the cause of others."

'But,' said Margaret, 'a soldier dies for his country - for others.'


"My lass," said he, "yo're but a young wench, but don't yo think I can keep three people--that's Bessy, and Mary, and me--on sixteen shillings a week?

'My lass,' said he, 'do yo' think I can keep three people - Bessy, and Mary, and me - on sixteen shilling a week?


Dun yo think it's for mysel' I'm striking work at this time?


It is just as much in the cause of others as yon soldier--only m'appen, the cause he dies for is just that of somebody he never clapt eyes on, nor heerd on all his born days, while I take up John Boucher's cause, as lives next door but one, wi' a sickly wife, and eight childer, none on 'em factory age; and I don't take up his cause only, though he's a poor good-for-nought, as can only manage two looms at a time, but I take up th' cause o' justice.

Yon soldier might die for somebody he never clapt eyes on, while I take up John Boucher's cause, as lives next door but one, wi' a sickly wife, and eight childer, even though he's a poor good-for-nought, as can only manage two looms at a time - but I take up th' cause o' justice.


Why are we to have less wage now, I ask, than two year ago?"

Why are we to have less wage now, I ask, than two year ago?'


"Don't ask me," said Margaret; "I am very ignorant.


Surely they will give you a reason for it.


It is not merely an arbitrary decision of theirs, come to without reason."


"Yo're just a foreigner, and nothing more," said he, contemptuously.

'Much yo' know about it,' said he, contemptuously.


They'd tell us to mind our own business, and they'd mind theirs.

They'd tell us to mind our own business.


Our business being, yo understand, to take the bated wage, and be thankful; and their business to bate us down to clemming point, to swell their profits.

Our business being, yo' understand, to take the smaller wage, and be thankful, and their business to starve us, and swell their profits.


"But," said Margaret, determined not to give way, although she saw she was irritating him, "the state of trade may be such as not to enable them to give you the same remuneration."

'But,' said Margaret, determined not to give way, although she saw she was irritating him, 'the state of trade may be such that they cannot pay you the same wage.'


Th' masters keep th' state o' trade in their own hands; and just walk it forward like a black bug-a-boo, to frighten naughty children with into being good.

Th' masters keep th' state o' trade in their own hands; and use it like a bug-a-boo, to frighten naughty children into being good.


I'll tell you it's their part,--their cue, as some folks call it,--to beat us down, to swell their fortunes; and it's ours to stand up and fight hard,--not for ourselves alone, but for them round about us--for justice and fair play.

I tell yo' they want to beat us down; and we have to stand up and fight hard for justice - not for ourselves alone, but for them round about us.


We help to make their profits, and we ought to help spend 'em.


It's not that we want their brass so much this time, as we've done many a time afore.


We'n getten money laid by; and we're resolved to stand and fall together; not a man on us will go in for less wage than th' Union says is our due.

We've getten money laid by; and we're resolved to stand and fall together; not a man on us will go in for less wage than th' Union says is our due.


So I say, 'hooray for the strike,' and let Thornton, and Slickson, and Hamper, and their set look to it!"

So I say, "hooray for the strike," and let Thornton, Slickson, and Hamper, and the rest look to it!'


Thornton o' Marlborough Mill, as we call him."


"He is one of the masters you are striving with, is he not?


Set a bulldog on hind legs, and dress him up in coat and breeches, and yo'n just getten John Thornton."

Set a bulldog on hind legs, and dress him up in coat and breeches, and yo'n just getten John Thornton.'


"Nay," said Margaret, laughing, "I deny that.

'Nay,' said Margaret, laughing, 'I deny that.


Mr. Thornton is plain enough, but he's not like a bulldog, with its short broad nose, and snarling upper lip."

Mr. Thornton is plain enough, but he's not like a bulldog.'


But let John Thornton get hold on a notion, and he'll stick to it like a bulldog; yo might pull him away wi' a pitchfork ere he'd leave go.

But let John Thornton get hold on a notion, and he'll stick to it like a bulldog.


He's worth fighting wi', is John Thornton.


As for Slickson, I take it, some o' these days he'll wheedle his men back wi' fair promises; that they'll just get cheated out of as soon as they're in his power again.

As for Slickson, he'll wheedle his men back wi' fair promises, and cheat them as soon as they're in his power again.


He'll work his fines well out on 'em, I'll warrant.


He's like a cat,--as sleek, and cunning, and fierce.


It'll never be an honest up and down fight wi' him, as it will be wi' Thornton.


Thornton's as dour as a door-nail; an obstinate chap, every inch on him,--th' oud bulldog!"


You don't like struggling and fighting as your father does, do you?"


I could have wished to have had other talk about me in my latter days, than just the clashing and clanging and clattering that has ever wearied a' my life long, about work and wages, and masters, and hands, and knobsticks.

I've been wearied all my life wi' the clashing and clattering about work and wages.'


Thou'rt looking a sight better already for a little stir and change.


Beside, I shall be a deal here to make it more lively for thee."

Besides, I shall be home to make it more lively for thee.'


"Then I'll never smoke no more i' the house!"


"But why didst thou not tell me afore, thou foolish wench?"

'But why didst thou not tell me afore, thou foolish wench?'


She did not speak for a while, and then so low that only Margaret heard her:

She answered so low that only Margaret heard her:


"I reckon, he'll want a' the comfort he can get out o' either pipe or drink afore he's done."

'He'll want a' the comfort he can get out o' either pipe or drink afore he's done.'


Her father went out of doors, evidently to finish his pipe.

Her father went outside to finish his pipe,


"Now am not I a fool,--am I not, Miss?--there, I knew I ought for to keep father at home, and away fro' the folk that are always ready for to tempt a man, in time o' strike, to go drink,--and there my tongue must needs quarrel with this pipe o' his'n--and he'll go off, I know he will,--as often as he wants to smoke--and nobody knows where it'll end.

'Now am not I a fool? I knew I ought to keep father at home, and away fro' the folk that are always ready for to tempt a man, in time o' strike, to go drink - and now he'll go off, I know he will, whenever he wants to smoke - and nobody knows where it'll end.'


I wish I'd letten myself be choked first."


"No--not to say drink," replied she, still in the same wild excited tone.

'No - not to say drink,' replied she, still in the same wild tone.


There are days wi' you as wi' other folk, I suppose, when yo' get up and go through th' hours, just longing for a bit of a change--a bit of a fillip, as it were.

'But there are days when yo're just longing for a bit of a change - a bit of a fillip, as it were.


I know I ha' gone and bought a four-pounder out o' another baker's shop to common on such days, just because I sickened at the thought of going on for ever wi' the same sight in my eyes, and the same sound in my ears, and the same taste i' my mouth, and the same thought (or no thought, for that matter) in my head, day after day, for ever.


I've longed for to be a man to go spreeing, even if it were only a tramp to some new place in search o' work.

I've longed for to be a man, and to go spreeing.


And father--all men--have it stronger in 'em than me to get tired o' sameness and work for ever.

And men have the feeling stronger than me.


It's little blame to them if they do go into th' gin-shop for to make their blood flow quicker, and more lively, and see things they never see at no other time--pictures, and looking-glass, and such like.

It's little blame if they do go into th' gin-shop to make their blood flow more lively.


But father never was a drunkard, though maybe, he's got worse for drink, now and then.

But father never was a drunkard, though maybe he's got worse for drink now and then.


Only yo' see," and now her voice took a mournful, pleading tone, "at times o' strike there's much to knock a man down, for all they start so hopefully; and where's the comfort to come fro'?

Only yo' see,' and now her voice took a mournful, pleading tone, 'at times o' strike there's much to knock a man down, for all they start so hopefully; and where's the comfort to come fro'?


He'll get angry and mad--they all do--and then they get tired out wi' being angry and mad, and maybe ha' done things in their passion they'd be glad to forget.

He'll get angry and mad - they all do - and maybe do things in their passion they'd be glad to forget.


but yo' dunnot know what a strike is yet."

but yo' dunnot know what a strike is yet.'


"Come, Bessy," said Margaret, "I won't say you're exaggerating, because I don't know enough about it: but, perhaps, as you're not well, you're only looking on one side, and there is another and a brighter to be looked to."

'Come, Bessy,' said Margaret, 'I won't say you're exaggerating, because I don't know enough about it: but, perhaps, as you're not well, you're only looking on the dark side.'


"It's all well enough for yo' to say so, who have lived in pleasant green places all your life long, and never known want or care, or wickedness either, for that matter."

'It's well enough for yo' to say, who have lived in pleasant green places all your life, and never known want or wickedness.'


"Take care," said Margaret, her cheek flushing, and her eye lightening, "how you judge, Bessy.

'Take care how you judge,' said Margaret, flushing.


I shall go home to my mother, who is so ill--so ill, Bessy, that there's no outlet but death for her out of prison of her great suffering; and yet I must speak cheerfully to my father, who has no notion of her real state, and to whom the knowledge must come gradually.

'I shall go home to my mother, who is so ill that only death will free her from her great suffering; and yet I must speak cheerfully to my father, who has no notion of her real state.


The only person--the only one who could sympathise with me and help me--whose presence could comfort my mother more than any other earthly thing--is falsely accused--would run the risk of death if he came to see his dying mother.

The only person who could help me - who could comfort my mother more than any other - is falsely accused, and would risk death if he came to see her.


No other person in Milton--hardly any other person in England knows.


Do I not know anxiety, though I go about well-dressed, and have food enough?

I know anxiety, though I go about well-dressed, and have food enough.


Oh, Bessy, God is just, and our lots are well portioned out by Him, although none but He knows the bitterness of our souls."

Oh, Bessy, God is just, and our lots are well portioned out by Him, although none but He knows the bitterness of our souls.'


"I ask your pardon," replied Bessy, humbly.

'I ask your pardon,' replied Bessy humbly.


"Sometimes, when I've thought o' my life, and the little pleasure I've had in it, I've believed that, maybe, I was one of those doomed to die by the falling of a star from heaven; 'And the name of the star is called Wormwood; and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.'

'Sometimes, when I've thought o' my life, and the little pleasure I've had in it, I think I'm one of them as is prophesied to die in Revelations.


One can bear pain and sorrow better if one thinks it has been prophesied long before for one: somehow, then it seems as if my pain was needed for the fulfilment; otherways it seems all sent for nothing."


Don't dwell so much on the prophecies, but read the clearer parts of the Bible."

Don't dwell so much on the prophecies, but read the clearer parts of the Bible.'


"I dare say it would be wiser; but where would I hear such grand words of promise--hear tell o' anything so far different fro' this dreary world, and this town above a' as in Revelations?

'I dare say it would be wiser; but where would I hear such grand words of promise as in Revelations?


Many's the time I've repeated the verses in the seventh chapter to myself, just for the sound.

Many's the time I've repeated the seventh chapter to myself, just for the sound.


It's as good as an organ, and as different from every day, too.


It gives me more comfort than any other book i' the Bible."

It gives me more comfort than any other book i' the Bible.'


"Let me come and read you some of my favourite chapters."

'Let me come and read you some of my favourite chapters.'


He's deaved wi' my talking; he says it's all nought to do with the things o' to-day, and that's his business."


I were loth to let her go; but somehow we must live; and th' Union can't afford us much."


"Yes, I came here very sad, and rather too apt to think my own cause for grief was the only one in the world.

'Yes. I came here very sad, and thinking my own cause for grief was the only one in the world.


And now I hear how you have had to bear for years, and that makes me stronger."

And now I hear what you have had to bear for years, and that makes me stronger.'


I thought a' the good-doing was on the side of gentlefolk.


I shall get proud if I think I can do good to yo'."

I shall get proud if I think I can do yo' good.


But you'll only puzzle yourself if you do, that's one comfort."


Bessy stilled her rocking to gaze after her.


"I wonder if there are many folk like her down South.

'I wonder if there are many folk like her down South.


She's like a breath of country air, somehow.


Who'd a thought that face--as bright and as strong as the angel I dream of--could have known the sorrow she speaks on?

Who'd ha' thought that bright face could have known the sorrow she speaks on?


It's not often hoo's stirred up to notice much."

It's not often hoo's stirred up to notice much.'
.


"So on those happy days of yore Oft as I dare to dwell once more, Still must I miss the friends so tried, Whom Death has severed from my side.


But ever when true friendship binds, Spirit it is that spirit finds; In spirit then our bliss we found, In spirit yet to them I'm bound."


Margaret was ready long before the appointed time, and had leisure enough to cry a little, quietly, when unobserved, and to smile brightly when any one looked at her.

Margaret was ready long before the appointed hour.


Her last alarm was lest they should be too late and miss the train; but no!

She was alarmed lest they should miss the train; but no!


they were all in time; and she breathed freely and happily at length, seated in the carriage opposite to Mr. Bell, and whirling away past the well-known stations; seeing the old south country-towns and hamlets sleeping in the warm light of the pure sun, which gave a yet ruddier colour to their tiled roofs, so different to the cold slates of the north.

they were in time. She breathed freely and happily at last, seated in the carriage opposite Mr. Bell, and whirling away past old country-towns and hamlets sleeping in the warm sunlight, which gave a ruddy colour to their tiled roofs, so different to the cold slates of the north.


Broods of pigeons hovered around these peaked quaint gables, slowly settling here and there, and ruffling their soft, shiny feathers, as if exposing every fibre to the delicious warmth.

Broods of pigeons hovered around these peaked quaint gables, ruffling their soft feathers.


There were few people about at the stations, it almost seemed as if they were too lazily content to wish to travel; none of the bustle and stir that Margaret had noticed in her two journeys on the London and North-Western line.

There were few people about at the stations; none of the bustle and stir of the London and North-Western line.


Later on in the year, this line of railway should be stirring and alive with rich pleasure-seekers; but as to the constant going to and fro of busy tradespeople it would always be widely different from the northern lines.


Here a spectator or two stood lounging at nearly every station, with his hands in his pockets, so absorbed in the simple act of watching, that it made the travellers wonder what he could find to do when the train whirled away, and only the blank of a railway, some sheds, and a distant field or two were left for him to gaze upon.

A spectator or two stood lounging at nearly every station, watching the passing trains.


The hot air danced over the golden stillness of the land, farm after farm was left behind, each reminding Margaret of German Idylls--of Herman and Dorothea--of Evangeline.

The hot air danced over the golden stillness of the land, and farm after farm was left behind, until they stepped down from the train and took the fly to Helstone.


It was the place to leave the train and take the fly to Helstone.


And now sharper feelings came shooting through her heart, whether pain or pleasure she could hardly tell.

Whether she felt pain or pleasure, Margaret could hardly tell.


Every mile was redolent of associations, which she would not have missed for the world, but each of which made her cry upon "the days that are no more," with ineffable longing.

Every mile was full of associations which she would not have missed for the world, but which made her long for 'the days that are no more.'


The last time she had passed along this road was when she had left it with her father and mother--the day, the season, had been gloomy, and she herself hopeless, but they were there with her.

The last time she had passed along this road was when she left with her father and mother.


Now she was alone, an orphan, and they, strangely, had gone away from her, and vanished from the face of the earth.

Now she was alone, an orphan, and they had vanished from the face of the earth.


It hurt her to see the Helstone road so flooded in the sunlight, and every turn and every familiar tree so precisely the same in its summer glory as it had been in former years.

It hurt her to see the Helstone road so flooded in sunlight, and every familiar tree so precisely the same in its summer glory as it had been in former years.


Nature felt no change and was ever young.

Nature felt no change, and was ever young.


Mr. Bell knew something of what would be passing through her mind, and wisely and kindly held his tongue.


They drove up to the Lennard Arms; half farm-house, half-inn, standing a little apart from the road, as much as to say, that the host did not so depend on the custom of travellers, as to have to court it by any obtrusiveness; they, rather, must seek him out.

They drove up to the Lennard Arms; half farm-house, half-inn, by the village green.


The house fronted the village green; and right before it stood an immemorial lime-tree benched all round, in some hidden recesses of whose leafy wealth hung the grim escutcheon of the Lennards.

Before it stood an ancient lime-tree benched all round.


The door of the inn stood wide open, but there was no hospitable hurry to receive the travellers.


When the landlady did appear--and they might have abstracted many an article first--she gave them a kind welcome, almost as if they had been invited guests, and apologised for her coming having been so delayed, by saying, that it was hay-time, and the provisions for the men had to be sent a-field, and she had been too busy packing up the baskets to hear the noise of wheels over the road, which, since they left the highway, ran over soft short turf.

When the landlady did appear she gave them a kind welcome, and apologised for having been delayed; it was hay-time, and she had been busy packing up baskets of provisions to be sent out to the men in the field.


exclaimed she, as at the end of her apology a glint of sunshine showed her Margaret's face, hitherto unobserved in that shady parlour.


"It's Miss Hale, Jenny," said she, running to the door, and calling to her daughter.


"Come here, come directly, it's Miss Hale!"


And then she went up to Margaret, and shook hands with motherly fondness.

And she shook Margaret's hands with motherly fondness.


We've never ceased to be sorry that he left."

We've never ceased to be sorry that he left.'


Margaret tried to speak and tell her of her father's death; of her mother's it was evident that Mrs. Purkis was aware, from her omission of her name.


But she choked in the effort, and could only touch her deep mourning, and say the one word, "Papa."

She could only touch her deep mourning, and say, 'Papa.'


said Mrs. Purkis, turning to Mr. Bell for confirmation of the sad suspicion that now entered her mind.


"There was a gentleman here in the spring--might have been as long ago as last winter--who told us a deal of Mr. Hale and Miss Margaret; and he said Mrs. Hale was gone, poor lady.

'There was a gentleman here in the spring - or maybe last winter - who told us a deal of Mr. Hale and Miss Margaret; and he said Mrs. Hale was gone, poor lady.


But never a word of the Vicar's being ailing!"

But never a word of the Vicar's ailing!'


"He died quite suddenly, when on a visit to me at Oxford.

'He died quite suddenly,' said Mr. Bell.


'He was a good man, Mrs. Purkis, and there's many of us that might be thankful to have as calm an end as his.


Her father was my oldest friend, and she's my god-daughter, so I thought we would just come down together and see the old place; and I know of old you can give us comfortable rooms and a capital dinner.

She's my god-daughter, so I thought we would just come down together and see the old place; and I know you can give us comfortable rooms and a capital dinner.


You don't remember me I see, but my name is Bell, and once or twice when the parsonage has been full, I've slept here, and tasted your good ale."

You don't remember me, but my name is Bell, and I've stayed here before.'


"To be sure; I ask your pardon; but you see I was taken up with Miss Hale.

'To be sure; I ask your pardon; but I was taken up with Miss Hale.


Let me show you to a room, Miss Margaret, where you can take off your bonnet, and wash your face.

Let me show you to a room, Miss Margaret, where you can wash your face.


It's only this very morning I plunged some fresh-gathered roses head downward in the water-jug, for thought I, perhaps some one will be coming, and there's nothing so sweet as spring-water scented by a musk rose or two.

It's only this very morning I plunged some fresh-gathered roses head downward in the water-jug, for, thought I, perhaps some one will be coming, and there's nothing so sweet as spring-water scented by a musk rose or two.'


Well, to be sure, we must all die; only that gentleman said, he was quite picking up after his trouble about Mrs. Hale's death."


"Come down to me, Mrs. Purkis, after you have attended to Miss Hale.


I want to have a consultation with you about dinner."


The little casement window in Margaret's bed-chamber was almost filled up with rose and vine branches; but, pushing them aside, and stretching a little out, she could see the tops of the parsonage chimneys above the trees, and distinguish many a well-known line through the leaves.

The little casement window in Margaret's bed-chamber was almost filled up with rose and vine branches; but pushing them aside, and stretching out, she could see the tops of the parsonage chimneys above the trees.


said Mrs. Purkis, smoothing down the bed, and despatching Jenny for an armful of lavender-scented towels, "times is changed, miss; our new Vicar has seven children, and is building a nursery ready for more, just where the arbour and tool-house used to be in old times.

said Mrs. Purkis, smoothing down the bed, 'times is changed, miss; our new Vicar Mr. Hepworth has seven children, and is building a nursery ready for more, where the arbour used to be.


And he has had new grates put in, and a plate-glass window in the drawing-room.


He and his wife are stirring people, and have done a deal of good; at least they say it's doing good; if it were not, I should call it turning things upside down for very little purpose.

He and his wife have done a deal of good, they say; though I should call it turning things upside down for very little purpose.


The new Vicar is a teetotaller, miss, and a magistrate, and his wife has a deal of receipts for economical cooking, and is for making bread without yeast; and they both talk so much, and both at a time, that they knock one down as it were, and it's not till they're gone, and one's a little at peace, that one can think that there were things one might have said on one's own side of the question.

The new Vicar is a teetotaller, miss, and a magistrate, and his wife has a deal of receipts for economical cooking; and they both talk so much, and both at a time, that they knock one down as it were.


He'll be after the men's cans in the hay-field, and peeping in; and then there'll be an ado because it's not ginger-beer, but I can't help it.

He'll be after the men's cans in the hay-field, and there'll be an ado because it's not ginger beer.


My mother and my grandmother before me sent good malt liquor to hay-makers, and took salts and senna when anything ailed them; and I must e'en go on in their ways, though Mrs. Hepworth does want to give me comfits instead of medicine, which, as she says, is a deal pleasanter, only I've no faith in it.


But I must go, miss, though I'm wanting to hear many a thing; I'll come back to you before long."

But I must go, miss; I'll come back to you before long.'


Mr. Bell had strawberries and cream, a loaf of brown bread, and a jug of milk (together with a Stilton cheese and a bottle of port for his own private refreshment), ready for Margaret on her coming down stairs; and after this rustic luncheon they set out for a walk, hardly knowing in what direction to turn, so many old familiar inducements were there in each.

Mr. Bell had strawberries and cream, a loaf of brown bread, and a jug of milk (together with a Stilton cheese and a bottle of port for his own refreshment,) ready for Margaret on her coming downstairs; and after this rustic luncheon they set out to walk.


We will go this way, and make a round so as to come back by it," said Margaret.

We will go this way, and come back by it.'


Here and there old trees had been felled the autumn before; or a squatter's cottage roughly-built and decaying cottage had disappeared.

Here and there old trees had been felled; or a decaying cottage had disappeared.


Margaret missed them each and all, and grieved over them like old friends.

Margaret grieved over them like old friends.


They came past the spot where she and Mr. Lennox had sketched.


The white, lightning-scarred trunk of the venerable beech, among whose roots they had sate down was there no more; the old man, the inhabitant of the ruinous cottage, was dead; the cottage had been pulled down, and a new one, tidy and respectable, had been built in its stead.

The white, lightning-scarred trunk of the venerable beech where they had sat down was there no more; the old man who lived in the ruinous cottage was dead; the cottage had been pulled down, and a new one built.


There was a small garden on the place where the beech-tree had been.

There was a small garden where the beech-tree had been.


"I did not think I had been so old," said Margaret after a pause of silence; and she turned away sighing.

'I did not think I was so old,' said Margaret after a pause.


"It is the first changes among familiar things that make such a mystery of time to the young, afterwards we lose the sense of the mysterious.


I take changes in all I see as a matter of course.


The instability of all human things is familiar to me, to you it is new and oppressive."

The instability of all human things is familiar to me, but to you it is new and oppressive.'


"Let us go on to see little Susan," said Margaret, drawing her companion up a grassy road-way, leading under the shadow of a forest glade.

'Let us go and see little Susan,' said Margaret, leading him up a grassy track into a forest glade.


"With all my heart, though I have not an idea who little Susan may be.

'With all my heart, though I have no idea who little Susan may be.'


But I have a kindness for all Susans, for simple Susan's sake."


"My little Susan was disappointed when I left without wishing her good-bye; and it has been on my conscience ever since, that I gave her pain which a little more exertion on my part might have prevented.

'My little Susan was disappointed when I left without wishing her goodbye; and it has been on my conscience ever since.


You see, here there are no views that can give one an excuse for stopping to take breath.


You would think it romantic to be walking with a person 'fat and scant o' breath' if I were Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.

You would think it romantic to be walking with a person "fat and scant o' breath" if I were Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.'


Have compassion on my infirmities for his sake."


I like you twenty times better than Hamlet."

'I like you twenty times better than Hamlet.


"On the principle that a living ass is better than a dead lion?"


"I am content to take your liking me, without examining too curiously into the materials it is made of.


Only we need not walk at a snail's pace."


Walk at your own pace, and I will follow.


Or stop still and meditate, like the Hamlet you compare yourself to, if I go too fast."

Stop and meditate, like Hamlet, if I go too fast.'


But as my mother has not murdered my father, and afterwards married my uncle, I shouldn't know what to think about, unless it were balancing the chances of our having a well-cooked dinner or not.

But as my mother has not murdered my father, and afterwards married my uncle, I shouldn't know what to think about, unless it were the chances of our having a well-cooked dinner.


She used to be considered a famous cook as far as Helstone opinion went."

Mrs. Purkis used to be considered a famous cook.'


"But have you considered the distraction of mind produced by all this haymaking?"

'But have you considered the distraction of all this haymaking?'


Margaret felt all Mr. Bell's kindness in trying to make cheerful talk about nothing, to endeavour to prevent her from thinking too curiously about the past.

Margaret felt Mr. Bell's kindness in trying to make cheerful talk about nothing, to prevent her from thinking too much about the past.


But she would rather have gone over these dear-loved walks in silence, if indeed she were not ungrateful enough to wish that she might have been alone.

But she would rather have walked in silence.


They reached the cottage where Susan's widowed mother lived.


Margaret was disappointed, and the poor woman saw it, and began to make a kind of apology.


Only she used to stop at home with you."

Only she used to stop at home with you.'


I used to teach her what little I knew at nights.


But she were getting such a handy girl, that I miss her sore.


But she's a deal above me in learning now."

But she's a deal above me in learning now.'


But I should say, that the child was getting a better and simpler, and more natural education stopping at home, and helping her mother, and learning to read a chapter in the New Testament every night by her side, than from all the schooling under the sun."

growled Mr. Bell. 'But I should say, that the child was getting a better and more natural education stopping at home, and helping her mother, and reading the New Testament every night by her side, than from all the schooling under the sun.'


Margaret did not want to encourage him to go on by replying to him, and so prolonging the discussion before the mother.

Margaret did not want to encourage him to go on,


"I don't know," said the woman rather shortly.

'I don't know,' said the woman rather shortly.


asked Margaret, who had formerly been the peace-maker of the village.


could not you get it back again when you told her it was yours?"

could not you get it back again when you told her it was yours?'


By dint of questioning, Margaret extracted from her the horrible fact that Betty Barnes, having been induced by a gipsy fortune-teller to lend the latter her husband's Sunday clothes, on promise of having them faithfully returned on the Saturday night before Goodman Barnes should have missed them, became alarmed by their non-appearance, and her consequent dread of her husband's anger, and as, according to one of the savage country superstitions, the cries of a cat, in the agonies of being boiled or roasted alive; compelled (as it were) the powers of darkness to fulfil the wishes of the executioner, resort had been had to the charm.

Margaret extracted from her the horrible fact that Betty Barnes, having been induced by a gypsy fortune-teller to lend the latter her husband's Sunday clothes, with which the gypsy had then disappeared, had followed one of the savage country superstitions: the cries of a cat, in the agonies of being boiled or roasted alive, would compel the powers of darkness to fulfil the executioner's wishes.


The poor woman evidently believed in its efficacy; her only feeling was indignation that her cat had been chosen out from all others for a sacrifice.

Susan's mother evidently believed in it; she was only indignant because her cat had been the one chosen for a sacrifice.


Margaret listened in horror; and endeavoured in vain to enlighten the woman's mind; but she was obliged to give it up in despair.

Margaret listened in horror; and tried to use logical argument to enlighten her; but she was obliged to give up in despair.


Step by step she got the woman to admit certain facts, of which the logical connexion and sequence was perfectly clear to Margaret; but at the end, the bewildered woman simply repeated her first assertion, namely, that "it were very cruel for sure, and she should not like to do it; but that there was nothing like it for giving a person what they wished for; she had heard it all her life; but it were very cruel for all that."

The bewildered woman simply repeated that 'it were very cruel for sure, but there were nothing like it for giving a person what they wished for; she had heard it all her life.'


Margaret gave it up in despair, and walked away sick at heart.


"You are a good girl not to triumph over me," said Mr. Bell.

'You are a good girl not to triumph over me,' said Mr. Bell.


Anything rather than have that child brought up in such practical paganism."

Anything rather than have that child brought up in such practical paganism.'


I must go and see her; would you mind calling at the school?"

I must go and see her; would you mind calling at the school?'


I am curious to see something of the teaching she is to receive."


They did not speak much more, but thridded their way through many a bosky dell, whose soft green influence could not charm away the shock and the pain in Margaret's heart, caused by the recital of such cruelty; a recital too, the manner of which betrayed such utter want of imagination, and therefore of any sympathy with the suffering animal.

They did not speak much more, but threaded their way through many a green dell, whose soft influence could not charm away the shock in Margaret's heart.


The buzz of voices, like the murmur of a hive of busy human bees, made itself heard as soon as they emerged from the forest on the more open village-green on which the school was situated.

The buzz of voices, like the murmur of a hive of busy human bees, made itself heard as soon as they emerged on the open village-green where the school was situated.


The door was wide open, and they entered.

The door was wide open; when they entered,


A brisk lady in black, here, there, and everywhere, perceived them, and bade them welcome with somewhat of the hostess-air which, Margaret remembered, her mother was wont to assume, only in a more soft and languid manner, when any rare visitors strayed in to inspect the school.

a brisk lady in black bade them welcome.


She knew at once it was the present Vicar's wife, her mother's successor; and she would have drawn back from the interview had it been possible; but in an instant she had conquered this feeling, and modestly advanced, meeting many a bright glance of recognition, and hearing many a half-suppressed murmur of "It's Miss Hale."

Margaret knew at once it was the present Vicar's wife, and she would have drawn back if possible; but she conquered this feeling, and modestly advanced, meeting many a bright glance of recognition, and hearing many a murmur of 'It's Miss Hale.'


The Vicar's lady heard the name, and her manner at once became more kindly.

The Vicar's lady heard the name, and her manner became more kindly


Margaret wished she could have helped feeling that it also became more patronizing.


The lady held out a hand to Mr. Bell, with,--


I am sure I am very glad to see you, sir, and so will the Vicar be."


Margaret explained that it was not her father, and stammered out the fact of his death; wondering all the time how Mr. Hale could have borne coming to revisit Helstone, if it had been as the Vicar's lady supposed.

Margaret stammered out the fact of her father's death.


She did not hear what Mrs. Hepworth was saying, and left it to Mr. Bell to reply, looking round, meanwhile, for her old acquaintances.


I see you would like to take a class, Miss Hale.


First class stand up for a parsing lesson with Miss Hale."

First class stand up for a parsing lesson with Miss Hale.'


Poor Margaret, whose visit was sentimental, not in any degree inspective, felt herself taken in; but as in some way bringing her in contact with little eager faces, once well-known, and who had received the solemn rite of baptism from her father, she sate down, half losing herself in tracing out the changing features of the girls, and holding Susan's hand for a minute or two, unobserved by all, while the first class sought for their books, and the Vicar's lady went as near as a lady could towards holding Mr. Bell by the button, while she explained the Phonetic system to him, and gave him a conversation she had had with the Inspector about it.

Poor Margaret felt herself taken in; but it was a way of studying the little eager faces, once well-known, of those who had received baptism from her father. She sat down, holding Susan's hand for a minute or two unobserved, while the first class sought for their books, and the Vicar's lady went as near as a lady could towards holding Mr. Bell by the button, while she explained the Phonetic system to him.


Margaret bent over her book, and seeing nothing but that--hearing the buzz of children's voices, old times rose up, and she thought of them, and her eyes filled with tears, till all at once there was a pause--one of the girls was stumbling over the apparently simple word "a," uncertain what to call it.

Margaret bent over her book, and at the buzz of children's voices, old times rose up, and her eyes filled with tears. One of the girls was stumbling over the apparently simple word 'a,' uncertain what to call it.


"A, an indefinite article," said Margaret, mildly.

'A, an indefinite article,' said Margaret, mildly.


"I beg your pardon," said the Vicar's wife, all eyes and ears; "but we are taught by Mr. Milsome to call 'a' an--who can remember?"

'I beg your pardon,' said the Vicar's wife, all eyes and ears; 'but we are taught by Mr. Milsome to call "a" an - who can remember?'


"An adjective absolute," said half-a-dozen voices at once.

'An adjective absolute,' said half-a-dozen voices at once.


Margaret spoke no more during the lesson.


But after it was over, she went quietly round to one or two old favourites, and talked to them a little.


They were growing out of children into great girls; passing out of their recollection in their rapid development, as she, by her three year's absence, was vanishing from theirs.

They were growing into great girls; passing out of her memory in their rapid development, as she was vanishing from theirs.


Still she was glad to have seen them all again, though a tinge of sadness mixed itself with her pleasure.

Still she was glad to have seen them all again.


When school was over for the day, it was yet early in the summer afternoon; and Mrs. Hepworth proposed to Margaret that she and Mr. Bell should accompany her to the parsonage, and see--the word "improvements" had half slipped out of her mouth, but she substituted the more cautious term "alterations" which the present Vicar was making.

When school was over for the day, Mrs. Hepworth proposed to Margaret that she and Mr. Bell should accompany her to the parsonage, and see the - the word 'improvements' had half slipped out of her mouth before she substituted 'alterations.'


Margaret did not care a straw about seeing the alterations, which jarred upon her fond recollection of what her home had been; but she longed to see the old place once more, even though she shivered away from the pain which she knew she should feel.

Margaret did not care a straw about these, but she longed to see the old place once more, even though she shivered away from the pain which she knew she should feel.


The parsonage was so altered, both inside and out, that the real pain was less than she anticipated.

The parsonage was so altered, both inside and out, that the real pain was less than she had anticipated.


The garden, the grass-plat, formerly so daintily trim that even a stray rose-leaf seemed like a fleck on the exquisite arrangement and propriety, was strewed with children's things; a bag of marbles here, a hoop there; a straw-hat forced down upon a rose-tree as on a peg, to the destruction of a long beautiful tender branch laden with flowers, which in former days would have been trained up tenderly, as if beloved.

The garden, once so daintily trim, was strewed with children's things.


The little square matted hall was equally filled with signs of merry healthy rough childhood.


said Mrs. Hepworth, "you must excuse this untidiness, Miss Hale.

said Mrs. Hepworth, 'you must excuse this untidiness, Miss Hale.


When the nursery is finished, I shall insist upon a little order.'


We are building a nursery out of your room, I believe.


How did you manage, Miss Hale, without a nursery?"


we are throwing out a window to the road on this side.

we are putting in a new window in Mr. Hepworth's study.


Mr. Hepworth is spending an immense deal of money on this house; but really it was scarcely habitable when we came--for so large a family as ours I mean, of course."

Mr. Hepworth is spending an immense deal of money on this house; but really it was scarcely habitable when we came - for so large a family as ours, I mean.'


Every room in the house was changed, besides the one of which Mrs. Hepworth spoke, which had been Mr. Hale's study formerly; and where the green gloom and delicious quiet of the place had conduced, as he had said, to a habit of meditation, but, perhaps, in some degree to the formation of a character more fitted for thought than action.

Every room was changed, besides the study, where


The new window gave a view of the road, and had many advantages, as Mrs. Hepworth pointed out.

the new window gave a view of the road, and had many advantages, as Mrs. Hepworth pointed out.


From it the wandering sheep of her husband's flock might be seen, who straggled to the tempting beer-house, unobserved as they might hope, but not unobserved in reality; for the active Vicar kept his eye on the road, even during the composition of his most orthodox sermons, and had a hat and stick hanging ready at hand to seize, before sallying out after his parishioners, who had need of quick legs if they could take refuge in the "Jolly Forester" before the teetotal Vicar had arrested them.

From it, her husband's flock might be seen straggling to the tempting beer-house; for the active Vicar kept his eye on the road, even while writing his sermons, and was ready to hurry out after his parishioners, who needed quick legs if they were to take refuge in the 'Jolly Forester' before the teetotal Vicar had arrested them.


The whole family were quick, brisk, loud-talking, kind-hearted, and not troubled with much delicacy of perception.


Margaret feared that Mrs. Hepworth would find out that Mr. Bell was playing upon her, in the admiration he thought fit to express for everything that especially grated on his taste.

Margaret feared that Mrs. Hepworth would find out that Mr. Bell was making fun of her in the admiration he expressed for everything that grated on his taste.


she took it all literally, and with such good faith, that Margaret could not help remonstrating with him as they walked slowly away from the parsonage back to their inn.

she took it all literally, and with such good faith, that Margaret could not help remonstrating with him as they walked back to their inn.


If she had not shown you every change with such evident exultation in their superior sense, in perceiving what an improvement this and that would be, I could have behaved well.

If she had not shown such exultation in all their improvements, I could have behaved well.'


But if you must go on preaching, keep it till after dinner, when it will send me to sleep, and help my digestion."


They were both of them tired, and Margaret herself so much so, that she was unwilling to go out as she had proposed to do, and have another ramble among the woods and fields so close to the home of her childhood.

They were both tired. Margaret was unwilling to go out as she had proposed to do, and have another ramble among the woods and fields.


And, somehow, this visit to Helstone had not been all--had not been exactly what she had expected.

Somehow, this visit to Helstone had not been what she had expected.


There was change everywhere; slight, yet pervading all.


Households were changed by absence, or death, or marriage, or the natural mutations brought by days and months and years, which carry us on imperceptibly from childhood to youth, and thence through manhood to age, whence we drop like fruit, fully ripe, into the quiet mother earth.


Places were changed--a tree gone here, a bough there, bringing in a long ray of light where no light was before--a road was trimmed and narrowed, and the green straggling pathway by its side enclosed and cultivated.

: places were changed - a tree gone here, a road trimmed there, and the green straggling pathway by its side enclosed and cultivated.


A great improvement it was called; but Margaret sighed over the old picturesqueness, the old gloom, and the grassy way-side of former days.

A great improvement it was called; but Margaret sighed over the grassy wayside of former days.


She sate by the window on the little settle, sadly gazing out upon the gathering shades of night, which harmonized well with her pensive thought.

She sat by the window, sadly gazing out upon the gathering shades of night.


Mr. Bell slept soundly, after his unusual exercise through the day.


At last he was roused by the entrance of the tea-tray, brought in by a flushed-looking country-girl, who had evidently been finding some variety from her usual occupation of waiter, in assisting this day in the hay-field.

He was roused by the entrance of the tea-tray, brought in by a country-girl.


I could not imagine what woman was sitting there in such a doleful attitude, with her hands clasped straight out upon her knees, and her face looking so steadfastly before her.

I could not imagine what woman was sitting there in such a doleful attitude.


asked Mr. Bell, coming to the window, and standing behind Margaret.


"Nothing," said she, rising up quickly, and speaking as cheerfully as she could at a moment's notice.

'Nothing,' said she, rising quickly, and speaking as cheerfully as she could.


A bleak back-ground of trees, some white linen hung out on the sweet-briar hedge, and a great waft of damp air.

A bleak background of trees, and a great waft of damp air.


Shut the window, and come in and make tea."


She played with her teaspoon, and did not attend particularly to what Mr. Bell said.

She did not attend particularly to what Mr. Bell said,


He contradicted her, and she took the same sort of smiling notice of his opinion as if he had agreed with her.


Then she sighed, and putting down her spoon, she began, apropos of nothing at all, and in the high-pitched voice which usually shows that the speaker has been thinking for some time on the subject that they wish to introduce--"Mr. Bell, you remember what we were saying about Frederick last night, don't you?"

until she began - 'Mr. Bell, you remember what we were saying about Frederick last night?'


Yes, to be sure, I recollect we talked about him, poor fellow."


"Yes--and do you remember that Mr. Lennox spoke about his having been in England about the time of dear mamma's death?"

'And do you remember that Mr. Lennox said Frederick had been in England about the time of dear mamma's death?'


asked Margaret, her voice now lower than usual.

asked Margaret, her voice lower than usual.


"And I thought--I always thought that papa had told you about it."

'I always thought that papa had told you.'


"I want to tell you of something I did that was very wrong, about that time," said Margaret, suddenly looking up at him with her clear honest eyes.

'I want to tell you of something I did that was very wrong, about that time,' said Margaret, suddenly looking up at him with her clear honest eyes.


"I told a lie;" and her face became scarlet.

'I told a lie;' and her face became scarlet.


"True, that was bad I own; not but what I have told a pretty round number in my life, not all in downright words, as I suppose you did, but in actions, or in some shabby circumlocutory way, leading people either to disbelieve the truth, or believe a falsehood.

'That was bad, I admit; though I have told a pretty round number in my life, not all in downright words, as I suppose you did, but in actions, or by leading people to believe a falsehood.


You know who is the father of lies, Margaret?


a great number of folk, thinking themselves very good, have odd sorts of connexion with lies, left-hand marriages, and second-cousins-once-removed.

A great number of folk who think themselves very good, have connections with lies - left-hand marriages, and second cousins-once-removed.


The tainting blood of falsehood runs through us all.


I should have guessed you as far from it as most people.


Nay, now we'll not talk of it, if it ends in this way.


I dare say you have been sorry for it, and that you won't do it again, and it's long ago now, and in short I want you to be very cheerful, and not very sad, this evening."

Nay, I dare say you have been sorry, and won't do it again, and I want you to be cheerful, and not sad, this evening.'


Margaret wiped her eyes, and tried to talk about something else, but suddenly she burst out afresh.


"Please, Mr. Bell, let me tell you about it--you could perhaps help me a little; no, not help me, but if you knew the truth, perhaps you could put me to rights--that is not it, after all," said she, in despair at not being able to express herself more exactly as she wished.

'Please, Mr. Bell, let me tell you about it. If you knew the truth, perhaps you could put me to rights - though that is not quite it,' said she, in despair at not being able to express herself exactly.


"It's a long story; but when Fred came, mamma was very ill, and I was undone with anxiety, and afraid, too, that I might have drawn him into danger; and we had an alarm just after her death, for Dixon met some one in Milton--a man called Leonards--who had known Fred, and who seemed to owe him a grudge, or at any rate to be tempted by the recollection of the reward offered for his apprehension; and with this new fright, I thought I had better hurry off Fred to London, where, as you would understand from what we said the other night, he was to go to consult Mr. Lennox as to his chances if he stood trial.

'It's a long story; but when Fred came, mamma was very ill, and I was afraid that I might have drawn him into danger; and we had an alarm just after her death, for Dixon met someone in Milton - a man called Leonards, who had known Fred, and seemed tempted by the reward offered for his capture. So I thought I had better hurry off Fred to London, to consult Mr. Lennox about his chances if he stood trial.


So we--that is, he and I,--went to the railway station; it was one evening, and it was just getting rather dusk, but still light enough to recognize and be recognized, and we were too early, and went out to walk in a field just close by; I was always in a panic about this Leonards, who was, I knew, somewhere in the neighbourhood; and then, when we were in the field, the low red sunlight just in my face, some one came by on horseback in the road just below the field-style on which we stood.--I saw him look at me, but I did not know who it was at first, the sun was so in my eyes, but in an instant the dazzle went off, and I saw it was Mr. Thornton, and we bowed"----

He and I went to the railway station; it was dusk, but still light enough to see, and we were too early, and went out to walk in a field close by. I was in a panic about this Leonards. When we were in the field, at sunset, someone came by on horseback in the road alongside, and I saw him look at me, but I did not know who it was at first, the sun was so in my eyes, but then I saw it was Mr. Thornton, and we bowed-'


"And he saw Frederick of course," said Mr. Bell, helping her on with her story, as he thought.

'And he saw Frederick, of course,' said Mr. Bell, helping her on.


"Yes; and then at the station a man came up--tipsy and reeling--and he tried to collar Fred, and over-balanced himself as Fred wrenched himself away, and fell over the hedge of the platform; not far, not deep; not above three feet; but oh!

'Yes; and then at the station a man came up - tipsy and reeling - and he tried to collar Fred, and over-balanced himself as Fred wrenched himself away, and fell over the edge of the platform; only about three feet; but oh!


Mr. Bell, somehow that fall killed him!"

Mr. Bell, somehow that fall killed him!'


he went off immediately after the fall, which we never thought could have done the poor fellow any harm, it seemed so slight an injury."

he went off immediately after the fall, which we never thought could have done the poor fellow any harm.'


now comes the bad part," said she, nervously twining her fingers together.

now comes the bad part,' said she, nervously twining her fingers together.


"A police inspector came and taxed me with having been a companion of the young man, whose push or blow had occasioned Leonards' death; that was a false accusation, you know, but we had not heard that Fred had sailed, he might still be in London and liable to be arrested on this false charge, and his identity with the Lieutenant Hale, accused of causing the mutiny, discovered, he might be shot; all this flashed through my mind, and I said it was not me.

'A police inspector came and taxed me with having been the companion of the young man, whose push or blow had caused Leonards' death; that was false, you know, but we had not heard that Fred had sailed - he might still be in London and liable to be arrested and shot. All this flashed through my mind, and I said it was not me.


I was not at the railway station that night.


I had no conscience or thought but to save Frederick."


You forgot yourself in thought for another.


At that very time Fred was safely out of England, and in my blindness I forgot that there was another witness who could testify to my being there."

At that very time Fred was safely out of England, and in my blindness I forgot that there was another witness who could testify to my being there.'


You know he had seen me close to the station; we had bowed to each other."


he would know nothing of this riot, about the drunken fellow's death.

he would know nothing of this drunken fellow's death.


I suppose the injury never came to anything."

I suppose the inquiry never came to anything.'