Oh, mamma!" said Margaret, lifting herself up, "don"t punish me so for acareless speech. I don"t mind ironing, or any kind of work, for you andpapa. I am myself a born and bred lady through it all, even though itcomes to scouring a floor, or washing dishes. I am tired now, just for alittle while; but in half an hour I shall be ready to do the same overagain. And as to Mr. Thornton"s being in trade, why he can"t help thatnow, poor fellow. I don"t suppose his education would fit him for muchelse." Margaret lifted herself slowly up, and went to her own room; forjust now she could not bear much more.
In Mr. Thornton"s house, at this very same time, a similar, yet different,scene was going on. A large-boned lady, long past middle age, sat atwork in a grim handsomely-furnished dining-room. Her features, likeher frame, were strong and massive, rather than heavy. Her face movedslowly from one decided expression to another equally decided. Therewas no great variety in her countenance; but those who looked at itonce, generally looked at it again; even the passers-by in the street, half-turned their heads to gaze an instant longer at the firm, severe, dignifiedwoman, who never gave way in street-courtesy, or paused in herstraight-onward course to the clearly-defined end which she proposed toherself.
She was handsomely dressed in stout black silk, of which not a threadwas worn or discoloured. She was mending a large long table-cloth ofthe finest texture, holding it up against the light occasionally to discoverthin places, which required her delicate care. There was not a bookabout in the room, with the exception of Matthew Henry"s BibleCommentaries, six volumes of which lay in the centre of the massiveside-board, flanked by a tea-urn on one side, and a lamp on the other. Insome remote apartment, there was exercise upon the piano going on.
Some one was practising up a morceau de salon, playing it very rapidly;every third note, on an average, being either indistinct, or whollymissed out, and the loud chords at the end being half of them false, butnot the less satisfactory to the performer. Mrs. Thornton heard a step,like her own in its decisive character, pass the dining-room door.
"John! Is that you?"
Her son opened the door and showed himself.
"What has brought you home so early? I thought you were going to teawith that friend of Mr. Bell"s; that Mr. Hale."
"So I am, mother; I am come home to dress!"
"Dress! humph! When I was a girl, young men were satisfied withdressing once in a day. Why should you dress to go and take a cup oftea with an old parson?"
"Mr. Hale is a gentleman, and his wife and daughter are ladies."
"Wife and daughter! Do they teach too? What do they do? You havenever mentioned them."
"No! mother, because I have never seen Mrs. Hale; I have only seenMiss Hale for half an hour."
"Take care you don"t get caught by a penniless girl, John."
"I am not easily caught, mother, as I think you know. But I must nothave Miss Hale spoken of in that way, which, you know, is offensive tome. I never was aware of any young lady trying to catch me yet, nor doI believe that any one has ever given themselves that useless trouble."
Mrs. Thornton did not choose to yield the point to her son; or else shehad, in general, pride enough for her sex.
"Well! I only say, take care. Perhaps our Milton girls have too muchspirit and good feeling to go angling after husbands; but this Miss Halecomes out of the aristocratic counties, where, if all tales be true, richhusbands are reckoned prizes."
Mr. Thornton"s brow contracted, and he came a step forward into theroom.
"Mother" (with a short scornful laugh), "you will make me confess. Theonly time I saw Miss Hale, she treated me with a haughty civility whichhad a strong flavour of contempt in it. She held herself aloof from me asif she had been a queen, and I her humble, unwashed vassal. Be easy,mother."
"No! I am not easy, nor content either. What business had she, arenegade clergyman"s daughter, to turn up her nose at you! I woulddress for none of them--a saucy set! if I were you." As he was leavingthe room, he said:-"
Mr. Hale is good, and gentle, and learned. He is not saucy. As for Mrs.
Hale, I will tell you what she is like to-night, if you care to hear." Heshut the door and was gone.
"Despise my son! treat him as her vassal, indeed! Humph! I should liketo know where she could find such another! Boy and man, he"s thenoblest, stoutest heart I ever knew. I don"t care if I am his mother; I cansee what"s what, and not be blind. I know what Fanny is; and I knowwhat John is. Despise him! I hate her!"
