"Now, I"ll not have my wench preached to. She"s bad enough as it is,with her dreams and her methodee fancies, and her visions of cities withgoulden gates and precious stones. But if it amuses her I let it abe, butI"m none going to have more stuff poured into her."
"But surely," said Margaret, facing round, "you believe in what I said,that God gave her life, and ordered what kind of life it was to be?"
"I believe what I see, and no more. That"s what I believe, young woman.
I don"t believe all I hear--no! not by a big deal. I did hear a young lassmake an ado about knowing where we lived, and coming to see us. Andmy wench here thought a deal about it, and flushed up many a time,when hoo little knew as I was looking at her, at the sound of a strangestep. But hoo"s come at last,--and hoo"s welcome, as long as hoo"ll keepfrom preaching on what hoo knows nought about."
Bessy had been watching Margaret"s face; she half sate up to speaknow, laying her hand on Margaret"s arm with a gesture of entreaty.
"Don"t be vexed wi" him--there"s many a one thinks like him; many andmany a one here. If yo" could hear them speak, yo"d not be shocked athim; he"s a rare good man, is father--but oh!" said she, falling back indespair, "what he says at times makes me long to die more than ever, forI want to know so many things, and am so tossed about wi" wonder."
"Poor wench--poor old wench,--I"m loth to vex thee, I am; but a manmun speak out for the truth, and when I see the world going all wrong atthis time o" day, bothering itself wi" things it knows nought about, andleaving undone all the things that lie in disorder close at its hand--why,I say, leave a" this talk about religion alone, and set to work on what yo"
see and know. That"s my creed. It"s simple, and not far to fetch, nor hardto work."
But the girl only pleaded the more with Margaret.
"Don"t think hardly on him--he"s a good man, he is. I sometimes think Ishall be moped wi" sorrow even in the City of God, if father is notthere." The feverish colour came into her cheek, and the feverish flameinto her eye. "But you will be there, father! you shall! Oh! my heart!"
She put her hand to it, and became ghastly pale.
Margaret held her in her arms, and put the weary head to rest upon herbosom. She lifted the thin soft hair from off the temples, and bathedthem with water. Nicholas understood all her signs for different articleswith the quickness of love, and even the round-eyed sister moved withlaborious gentleness at Margaret"s "hush!" Presently the spasm thatforeshadowed death had passed away, and Bessy roused herself andsaid,-"
I"ll go to bed,--it"s best place; but," catching at Margaret"s gown, "yo"llcome again,--I know yo" will--but just say it!"
"I will come to-morrow, said Margaret.
Bessy leant back against her father, who prepared to carry her upstairs;but as Margaret rose to go, he struggled to say something: "I could wishthere were a God, if it were only to ask Him to bless thee."
Margaret went away very sad and thoughtful.
She was late for tea at home. At Helstone unpunctuality at meal-timeswas a great fault in her mother"s eyes; but now this, as well as manyother little irregularities, seemed to have lost their power of irritation,and Margaret almost longed for the old complainings.
"Have you met with a servant, dear?"
"No, mamma; that Anne Buckley would never have done."
"Suppose I try," said Mr. Hale. "Everybody else has had their turn at thisgreat difficulty. Now let me try. I may be the Cinderella to put on theslipper after all."
Margaret could hardly smile at this little joke, so oppressed was she byher visit to the Higginses.
"What would you do, papa? How would you set about it?"
"Why, I would apply to some good house-mother to recommend me oneknown to herself or her servants."
"Very good. But we must first catch our house-mother."
"You have caught her. Or rather she is coming into the snare, and youwill catch her to-morrow, if you"re skilful."
"What do you mean, Mr. Hale?" asked his wife, her curiosity aroused.
"Why, my paragon pupil (as Margaret calls him), has told me that hismother intends to call on Mrs. and Miss Hale to-morrow."
"Mrs. Thornton!" exclaimed Mrs. Hale.
"The mother of whom he spoke to us?" said Margaret.
"Mrs. Thornton; the only mother he has, I believe," said Mr. Halequietly.
"I shall like to see her. She must be an uncommon person, her motheradded. "Perhaps she may have a relation who might suit us, and be gladof our place. She sounded to be such a careful economical person, that Ishould like any one out of the same family."
"My dear," said Mr. Hale alarmed. "Pray don"t go off on that idea. I fancyMrs. Thornton is as haughty and proud in her way, as our littleMargaret here is in hers, and that she completely ignores that old timeof trial, and poverty, and economy, of which he speaks so openly. I amsure, at any rate, she would not like strangers to know anything aboutIt."
"Take notice that is not my kind of haughtiness, papa, if I have any atall; which I don"t agree to, though you"re always accusing me of it."
"I don"t know positively that it is hers either; but from little things I havegathered from him, I fancy so."
They cared too little to ask in what manner her son had spoken abouther. Margaret only wanted to know if she must stay in to receive thiscall, as it would prevent her going to see how Bessy was, until late inthe day, since the early morning was always occupied in householdaffairs; and then she recollected that her mother must not be left to havethe whole weight of entertaining her visitor.
